Private Legend of Lies

[MjolnirV]

"So Zhar, what else can you tell us of this place? Perhaps anything about how you came to learn of it, or any other Gauldur stories?"

With arms crossed the mage paced the campsite digging for any relevant information. A steady heel-toe step rythmically kept his mind moving towards some form of answer. In mid stride Zhar stopped what he was doing and pivoted towards Kjorvir. When he spoke the mage sounded partially detached from Tamriel and secluded within the madness in his mind.

"This excavation, this tomb... No one has been down there for thousands of years. Yet this one has the feeling that somebody either has or will be down there waiting for us. The mysterious individual named "Shadow" would have ample opportunities to eliminate us within the tomb, so we must be ever alert and ready for battle. Keep your eyes sharp."

Moving closer to Kjorvir Zhar lowered his voice to a low murmur so that the warrior was the only one to hear him. "One time I delved into a tomb from roughly the same era as this one. It was filled to the brim with danger: dragur, traps, magical wards, and worse. This one wouldn't be surprised if the tomb has excessive magical properties, fitting for a royal battlemage. I fear that one of us will meet an untimely demise from some dark magic instead of a blade."

Looking over towards Elsa, Zhar watched her takes bites out of her sweet roll. The mage's face became solemn and he let loose a heavy sigh. "Please watch out for Elsa. I wish to see her leave this place unscathed or worse..."

 

[Aerin]

"This excavation, this tomb... No one has been down there for thousands of years. Yet this one has the feeling that somebody either has or will be down there waiting for us. The mysterious individual named "Shadow" would have ample opportunities to eliminate us within the tomb, so we must be ever alert and ready for battle. Keep your eyes sharp."

Elsa listened quietly, mulling over the words as she finished eating. Wiping sugar-frosted fingers against her thigh, the young thief considered the tomb and what lay in wait. Though she was youthful and confident in her abilities, it was not arrogance that had kept her alive all these years. Taking a moment to clear her head Elsa reached for her bow and began to examine the weapon with precise attention. Nimble fingers tested the bend of the wood and the give of the twine, a quick check over her quiver satisfied her concerns that she may be low on arrows. Fishing about her pack Elsa pulled out a rag and some resin polish which she began to rub into the elegant carvings of her bow, taking great care to ensure the weapon was properly cleaned. The archer lost herself in the soothing motions and began to mentally plan out her approach in the tomb.

She wouldn't deny it, the simple fact was that in closed quarters Elsa worked better alone. Rather than sticking to high ground and shadow, Elsa would be forced now to watch where her companions stepped, not just where she could place her feet. She had visited a tomb like this once before, and even now she could recall the foul stench of death and decay that had invaded her nose and assaulted her senses. It had been easy then for the lithe girl to slip by the sleeping dead, but in a large group, with heavy footed warriors, a stealthy and silent approach would be hard won. No, blood would fall and Elsa had no doubt that she would find herself staring into the cold glowing eyes of the dead more than once. Elsa began now to make note of the potions and poisons she had in her bag, attaching a few favoured concoctions to her belt for easier access. Lastly Elsa checked her twin daggers, running her thumbs over the blades. Hardly any pressure and she broke the calloused pad of her thumb. Lifting her hands Elsa sucked at the blood that welled along the wound and looked up at Zhar and Kjorvir. Unsure as to what to make of the from gracing the khajiit's features, Elsa chose for the moment to ignore all thoughts unrelated to the job. It was easier to stay focussed that way, she'd be less likely to make a mistake if she wasn't allowing herself to worry about her friends. Others might find her cold in that manner, but as far as she was concerned, survival didn't always allow emotional involvement, and she'd already made herself vulnerable by getting attached in the first place. Sighing she rubbed at her temples and packed her things away, standing up to stretch and limber up before they left.

 

[MjolnirV]

The troupe gathered their belongings at a slow pace, partially due to the lethargy of sleep but primarily for the fear of what lies ahead. One by one the adventurers gathered around Zhar: Kjorvir stood and cracked his neck before giving the mage an assuring nod, Sander finished strapping his gauntlet into place before saluting the Khajiit, and Elsa slung her ebony bow across her back and gave her lover a small smile. With everyone ready Zhar led his followers over the hill and towards the tomb.

An hour or so passed before Zhar spotted a fissure among the crags, peering into the darkness the mage could make out the outline of a figure laying motionless on the ground, surely the caravan guard who met his unfortunate end. A large grin overtook the Khajiit's face and his tail began to sway to and fro, "At long last..."

Leaping into the hole Zhar disappeared into the void landing gracefully on his feline feet. Regaining his composure, Zhar dusted off his robes and yelled up to his comrades, "It's a good drop to the bottom. It would be best to lower a rope and lower yourselves down."

Obediently Kjorvir took the rope from his pack and tied it off to a nearby crag which offered as a good anchor point. Unraveling the rope, he dropped it down into the fissure. One by one the adventurers lowered themselves into the darkness. At the bottom the group scanned the area for Zhar but couldn't see him in the dark.

Suddenly a burst of light erupted in the distance and beneath it was Zhar, he was roughly twenty meters ahead of his friends. "Follow me!" cried Zhar and the cavern carried his voice into the depths and he darted off down a pathway.

In pursuit the troupe followed the radiance of the Khajiit's magelight. Each one wondering what insanity would cause the cat to take off on his own in this nightmare of a ruin. Zhar began to slow his pace and eventually stopped his advance all together and waited for his comrades to accompany him.

Turning a corner the troupe saw Zhar standing in front of a large set of stone doors standing nearly 30 meters high, each carved beautifully with ancient Nordic runes and depictions. Large basins containing green mage fire lined the pathway to the mighty gates of the tomb.

Turning around the Khajiit had a large krin across his feline face, throwing his arms up into the air Zhar's voiced erupted with excitement. "Welcome, my friends, to the tomb of Lord Lodbrok, the Royal Battlemage to King Harald himself!"

Looking back towards the gate Zhar's eyes reflected the green flames. "Elsa, my dear, would you be so kind as to unlock the tomb for us?"

 

[Sierra312]

As they had packed up what scant provisions that constituted a campsite the night before, Sander had not been able to shake the vague sensation of foreboding that had taken root in his thoughts. Despite the relatively mild morning air, uncharacteristic for the Reach, and the calls of the red-shouldered songbirds native to Skyrim, the knight was unable to suppress a brief shiudder of apprehension as his mind turned from the beauty of the dawn around them to plumbing the echoing depths of a dark, dank labyrinth; the subterranean tunnels and traps the ancient Nords had created to protect treasures lost to time and memory, where dead hands clasped their long forgotten gold.

He attempted to stifle the fear, giving a cocky salute to Zhar as the Khajiit nodded at them to leave, but as he grasped Frosts reins and they began the last leg of their trek through the wild, the shadow and the threat only grew in the Redguards mind. Some doom was drawing near, borne swiftly towards their party on silent wings.

Travelling over increasingly rough terrain, the small band eventually came to a parting among the rocks, where a crevasse framed by jagged, stony protrusions scarred the surrounding granite, giving it the form of a threatening fanged mouth. Climbing down the rope into that forbidding hole, the knight could easily imagine those stone lips coming together, sealing them inside, as the small circle of sky above him receded and he and his companions descended deeper into darkness.

There was a body down there with them, Sander could smell it, and as his eyes adjusted to the gloom at the bottom of the pit they found themselves in he could begin to see it too, a ragged, mouldering corpse, lying where it had fallen. He looked to have been garbed in mail and rough furs, a mercenary, perhaps, or adventurer, and Sander wondered what misfortune had led him to stumble over the bare rock of the Reach and plummet to his death in this gods-forsaken place.

The knight was dimly aware of Kjorvir and Elsas furtive movements in the dark as they skirted round that unfortunate first visitor to the cave, but could see no sign of Zhar. All at once, a brilliant light flared ahead, pale but fierce, and blinding; the knight put a gloved hand to his visor to shield his eyes from the harshness of it. The Khajiiti mage had illuminated the tunnel that now lay before them and he sprang away with an excited cry of "Follow me!" that was more feline yowl than actual speech.

Unslinging the crossbow from his shoulder, Sander charged after his employer down the passage, hoping they would not run headlong into some cunning device of the long-dead Nords who had hewn a tomb from the cavern rock around them, or worse, an ambuscade set up by the assassins of the mysterious being who hunted them.

Rounding a bend as the tunnel began to curve, the Redguard was confronted by the sight of Zhar, silhouetted impressively against the backdrop of two immense stone doors, cut from the surrounding rock and illuminated by gigantic braziers, each brimming with emerald flame. The cats eyes glittered weirdly in the dancing firelight, the sickly green glow coupled with his manic grin and lashing tail lending the mage a slightly demented look.

"Welcome, my friends, to the tomb of Lord Lodbrok, the Royal Battlemage to King Harald himself!"

 

[AS88]

By the time Kjorvir had swung down from Fjori's saddle and seen to hiding and settling her, the other had already set up ropes and lowered themselves into a hazardous-looking cavern. This alone was already one of the more dangerous things they'd done on the trip, save maybe for the bandit raid and ambush on the mercenaries. Mindful of the extra weight he carried compared to the others, he gave the rope a strong tug before steadily lowering his way in, taking note of the late morning breeze. Might be the last time I feel that for a while. Talos guard us.

His plated boot squelched into a damp patch of earth which had been left exposed to the Reach's rains since the centuries-old ceiling had collapsed. Immediately he felt the tension among his colleagues, and tasted the death in the air as he watched Sander's athletic silhouette step gingerly over a corpse of some kind. Kjorvir's eyes tried desperately to adjust to the lack of light, but his glove was thrust in front of his eyes instinctively following the burst of light from Zhar's direction. His eyes recovered as the light settled, and Kjorvir set off in wake of the others. He flipped over the body which was now grimly illuminated by the effect of Zhar's light on the cracked and carved passageway, and noted the man's race to be a Nord, or possibly a big Breton. He appeared to be just another adventurer, just like Kjorvir had been until this adventure had begun.

His mind returned to the task at hand, and not a moment too soon as the others had began to get too far away by tomb-raiding standards. It was then that Zhar's triumphant yet slightly manic voice echoed through the tunnels.

"Welcome, my friends, to the tomb of Lord Lodbrok, the Royal Battlemage to King Harald himself!"

 

[Aerin]

Elsa followed dutifully behind the group, her footsteps barely heard over the crunch of armoured feet ahead of her. Ulfvindr was strung and balanced lightly in the thief's fingers, the wood a gentle but reassuring weight in Elsa's grip. Zhar had broken into a sprint at one point, provoking the nord to mutter a curse under her breath. As she trailed after the group Elsa began to take inventory. She mentally ran over weapons and supplies in her mind, trying her best to keep record of landmarks and any signs that the group was being tracked and followed.

Her mind was racing, her heart beating a frantic rhythm in her ribcage. Trying to control and slow her breathing Elsa willed herself to calm despite the fact that the closer they got to the tomb, the more her throat seemed to constrict in fear. The risk in comparison to potential gain did not suit Elsa in the slightest, there was far too much riding on their success. And yet despite this Zhar seemed to forget himself entirely, his face twisted into a manic krin as he led his friends and travelling companions to a small opening in the ground.

As they lowered themselves down into the tomb Elsa was shrouded in darkness. Breathing deep her senses were overwhelmed with the pungent stench of death and decay. Exhaling through her mouth Elsa knew from experience that she would quickly grow accustomed to the smell, her eyes well trained to see through the invasive darkness.

Once she reached the bottom of the pit she flexed her toes within her boots, testing the texture of the ground as she shuffled her feet. Cautiously she stepped forward, squinting gently as she looked about. The structure of the tomb was visible to her, even as dark as it was. Even now she found the architecture of her ancestors breathtaking. It was beautiful, the carvings of stone graceful and elegant, but in ways that did nothing to hide the brutal strength of Nordic craftsmanship.

Zhar set about welcoming the group, his eyes luminescent as they reflected the eerie green mage light he had conjured to illuminate their path.

At the mages request, Elsa nodded silently, handing her bow to Sander as she moved kneel before the locked door Zhar had gestured towards. Reaching into a small parcel she kept tucked into her pack Elsa pulled out a small lock pick and a knife. The handle was wooden, wrapped in worn leather, the hide frayed and torn from years of use. Gently she inserted the lock pick into the key hole, practised fingers using the pick to stroke at the pegs within the lock. Her breath was coming slowly, her mind relaxing as she dealt with the task at hand.

As the last peg slid into place Elsa began to gently rotate the lock until the satisfying click reverberated against the stone walls of the tomb. Sitting back on her haunches Elsa tidied away her tools, her jaw clenched in thought.

"When we're inside try to avoid touching anything. There may be raised pressure pads, rigged doors and chests...I'll try to scout ahead and keep you updated, but we're walking into dangerous territory here. We can't afford careless mistakes. Not when we may be walking into an ambush as well." The thief's words were clipped and brusque, a far cry from her usual casual flirting and jests. It was clear the young woman was feeling the stress of the job, her concern bleeding into her voice. Retrieving her bow from Sander she reached to her quiver she had strapped tightly to her back. Resting the arrow in a loose nock, she nodded at Zhar, indicating he could proceed when he was happy to do so.

 

[MjolnirV]

Elsa's nimble fingers worked diligently at the ancient lock, her eyes focused and her demeanor turned almost meditative as she worked the tumblers. Zhar couldn't keep his eyes off of her work, awaiting a result which occur at any moment. The anxiety sent adrenaline rushing through the mage's body. Come on, open already!

At last the last tumbler locked into place with a loud clunk. Readying her weapon, Elsa nodded to Zhar conveying her readiness to move onward. Returning the gesture Zhar put his hands upon the mighty stone doors and heaved with force. To his surprise the doors swung open with great ease, as if they were made of paper. Recovering from his embarrassment peered through the doorway. A long hallway laid before the mage with more braziers lining the walls. The concoction of death and dust created an unpleasant perfume that would ward away the inexperienced traveler but required a moment to grow accustomed to.

The Khajiit took his first step into the tomb and with it the first set of braziers burst into illumination with green flame, and upon approaching the next set of braziers they too sparked a green mage flame. Down the hall the group ventured, guiding their steps to avoid unseen hazards and scanning the walls and ceiling for gruesome residents.

Carved into the walls were accounts of Lord Lodbrok's historic achievements, countless battles with the Elves and Reachmen spanning from what appears to be full on war to duels between champions. It was obvious that the Royal Battlemage was a powerful individual.

The hall opened into a circular room with an old Nordic door lock on the other side of the room, one that would require both the correct alignment of creatures and a dragon claw. In the center of the room stood a pedestal with a claw resting upon and below it a piece of parchment, not yet withered away by time.

Zhar stepped toward the pedestal and retrieved the parchment, to his surprise the paper showed no blemish of time. Opening the parchment Zhar read aloud what was written,

"To my adventurous friends,​

Here is the key to your treasures. Take it with care.​

Do try your best not to get everyone killed, Khajiit.​

-Shadow"​

​

Zhar's face twisted into a snarl, his eyes grew intense. "Who is this fool?! How can he know so much about us yet we have never met this individual?" Looking back at the letter Zhar read it over a second time to himself, simmering with frustration. "He will be here... be on your guard."​

​

Balling the parchment in his hands Zhar tucked it away into his satchel. Taking the claw in his hands Zhar turned it over for the code: Dragon, Whale, and... A strange new symbol the mage has never seen before. It appears to be a mammoth. Moving to the door Zhar turned the rings until the correct pattern was aligned then placed the claw into it's recess, turning it to open the door.​

​

Slowly the rings spun into their final position then the barrier dropped allowing the group to venture deeper into the tomb. However the door gave way to a landing overseeing strange chasm that delved into a dark abyss that Zhar could not see the bottom of.​

​

Roughly 50 meters across from the door is another landing leading to another dragon claw door. At the edge of the landing that the party stood upon is a stone tablet with writing carved into it. Zhar read the writing aloud:​

"Before you lies the Dragon's Gape,​

Tread carefully, make no mistake.​

Let this not be the end of your adventure,​

The dragon holds all the answers."​

​

With an eyebrow raised Zhar looked up from the tablet in search of the dragon the message spoke of. Above the door the party entered was a dragon statue looming over the landing, it's wingspan ran the length of the landing, talons reaching for the party and it's jaws ready to swallow an unfortunate victim. A most impressive carving.​

​

In the dragon's mouth is an orb the size of an apple. With his arm extended towards the orb Zhar's hand begun to glow orange with magicka causing the orb to dislodge from the dragon's jaws and fall into Zhar's palm.​

​

Once the orb touched Zhar's finger tips it illuminated with various shades of red swirling within the orb as if caught in a mini maelstrom. Over the chasm a red magical bridge materialized connecting the two landings together. With a smirk on his face the mage looked over to his comrades, "Not very difficult is it? Let's press forward." ​

​

One by one the group moved across the chasm to the other side. Using the dragon claw the group opened the Nordic lock and couldn't believe what laid on the other side...​

​

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(To be continued in another post)​

 

[MjolnirV]

"This will be problematic..."

Zhar stepped into the next chamber, if that is the word to use, for the door opened into a vast underground lake spanning deep into the pitch black. The ground consisted of a damp soil with a stone stairway delving straight into the water. Stalactites hung from overhead, looming over the lake as notched arrows ready to be released. The air was cool and damp similar to an early morning at sea.

What perturbed Zhar the most was the complete silence. The lake was still, no signs of life beneath the glassy surface.

Ignoring his surroundings, Zhar moved to the pedestal that stood beside the lake.

"The depths are forever,​

The length a lifetime.​

Find your way across. ​

Let the King sleep."​

​

​

Scratching the back of his neck, Zhar stared off into the deep. Moments passed before the mage turned to his allies. "For the first time in many years this one can say he is stuck..."​

 

[Aerin]

"The depths are forever,​

The length a lifetime.​

Find you way across.​

Let the King sleep.​

​

​

Elsa huffed a sigh and rolled her eyes at the ridiculous letter left waiting for the weary group of explorers. The trick with the magic orb had been nice, a little showy for the nord's simple tastes, but she supposed it was enough to discourage the more opportunistic travelers. ​

​

"For the first time in many years this one can say he is stuck..."​

​

​

"Well at least it didn't rhyme, we have that I suppose." Moving forward to stand beside Zhar Elsa scanned the surface of the lake with her eyes and sneered in distaste. Scraping her right foot against the ground she bent down to pick up a small rock she had disrupted with her foot and tossed it in the air a few times, catching it with ease.​

​

"Before us lies a rather sinister and mysterious lake. There is no light, and from the irritatingly cryptic message, we can assume the lake is likely to be home to many dangers. I wonder what would happen if I threw this stone into the water." Elsa quietly mused her thoughts, slowly turning the message's words over in her mind. Examining the steps leading down into water Elsa grew confused. "Rather odd to simply have steps that lead into a watery abyss don't you think? Unless this chamber hadn't always been flooded...the only other reason for these steps that I can think of would be to have us follow them. 'Tis a shame none of us are argonian, this chamber would have proved far less troublesome."​

​

​

Turning back towards Kjorvir and Sander, Elsa arched a brow and nodded at the water. "What say you? I'm sorely tempted to anger whatever lies beneath and throw this rock in if no one objects." Turning to Zhar Elsa grinned, her eyes twinkling in the dim mage light. "After all, the worst that could happen would be that we die a horrible death and our bodies rot in a watery grave. Unfortunate but at least that whoreson Shadow won't get what he wants. I'd call that a minor victory at least, and I hear the nordic after life is just one big party. I might not be invited but I'm yet to come across somewhere I couldn't sneak into." ​

 

[MjolnirV]

Scratching his chin Zhar mused at Elsa's proposition at wakening what may or may not reside in the lake. His blue eyes peering out across the lake hoping to find some hint of life. None was to be found.

Shrugging his shoulders the Khajiit shook his head in acceptance, "There isn't much else that we could do. Khajiit cannot breathe underwater and a formidable battle could prove interesting. However this one thinks it would be best to explore the waters first. Khajiit could send a storm atronach to cross the lake. It would levitate above the surface and hopefully locate the so called 'king' in the lake."

Calling forth the magicka within him, Zhar's palm formed a purple orb to materialize a storm atronach. Point across the lake Zhar ordered the construct to cross, dutifully the being complied.

Silently the group watched the atronach move steadily across the lake, time meant nothing to the creature therefore speed was not a priority. Fifty meters out it went, then one hundred meters, then one hundred and fifty meters. Slowly the atronach came to a halt. Hovering in place the atronach turned to it's right and let loose two bolts of lightning into the water.

Crossing his arms Zhar studied the atronach's direction of fire for movement but couldn't find anything. Suddenly there was a burst of movement from the atronach's location. A large water beast flung itself from the depths of the lake and swallowed the construct whole. It appeared to be serpentine in design but not much could be seen in the darkness.

Raising an eyebrow Zhar mumbled to Elsa, "By the Gods, I hope you have a bigger rock."

 

[Aerin]

"By the Gods, I hope you have a bigger rock."

The small smile that had formed on the thief's face slowly fell as she took in the side that befell the travellers.

"Yes, well you're the one with magic hands. Why don't you magic a great big rock to hurl at that…that thing? A stone atro- atro-whatever?" Elsa's voice took on a slightly panicked edge as she glanced at the small rock in her hand. Mashing her lips together Elsa gripped the rock and hurled it at the monstrous beast, the pebble sized detritus bouncing off slick scales back, down into the black abyss that seemed to heave with foreboding. Elsa grabbed her bow and nocked an arrow, briefly looking over at Zhar and shrugging her shoulders.

"Don't look at me like that, I don't see you coming up with a better idea!"

Looking back to the beast Elsa recoiled in horror as she looked closer. Inky scales seemed to gleam iridescent under the pale green light cast by Zhar's hands. The body was serpentine indeed, the sides of the monster's body lined with spike and fins that seemed to shake and vibrate in agitation as the creature looked down upon its prey. The tightly coiled muscles of the beasts body seemed to tense as it watched for any sudden movements. The head was flat, small eyes peering out into the darkness. Elsa sent a prayer of thanks to her shadow sight, her eyes trained to pick up on the details hidden in the murk and mire. A threatening hiss emanated from the creature in warning, it's ghastly maw parting to reveal rows upon rows of vicious teeth, ready to tear apart the companions.

Slowly stepping closer to Zhar, Elsa looked over her shoulder to see what Sander and Kjorvir were planning. So far she couldn't spot any weaknesses of the water creature that could be exploited, but surely the environment they found themselves in could offer help. Stalagmites and stalactites seemed to grow from every surface available, the rock reflecting what light reached the elegantly carved surfaces. If they were to fall or the beast was forced to impale itself upon the unforgiving rock then perhaps they had a chance of surviving. Of course there was the water itself. If it were to somehow alight then maybe…

Her train of thought was brought to a halt as the creature seemed to finally decide it had waited long enough. The beast shrieked, its voice rattling and terrifying. The volume of its cry caused a few smaller formations to shake and fall into the water, splashing the feet and legs of the band of explorers as they scrambled to react and form some plan of attack.

 

[MjolnirV]

Zhar's focus had broken when Elsa heaved the small rock at the lake monster, causing the mage to raise an eyebrow at the thief in disbelief.

"Don't look at me like that, I don't see you coming up with a better idea!"


With a shake of his head Zhar gave a deep sigh and returned his sight to the beast. Readying his magicka Zhar clenched his fists and looked for any form of advantage he could gain over the serpent. The only thing he could come up with was using the rock formations to his advantage, hoping to send the stalactites into the wurm's flesh.

Out of the corner of his eye Zhar saw Elsa moving closer to him, arrow at the ready.

"We would be wise to use the cave against the beast. Causing the stalactites to fall onto the beast may give us an edge..."

Suddenly the beast lunged forward at the duo with rows of teeth exposed. Both the mage and thief dove out of the way; Elsa performing an elegant roll into a crouched stance while Zhar landed in the dirt. The serpent was slow to recover, stunned from the impact with the earth. Taking advantage of the opportunity Zhar dual casted a lightning bolt at the serpent's head; roaring in pain the beast withdrew itself back into the lake and disappeared.

"Stay on your guard. The beast is not done yet!"

 

[Sierra312]

Some sorcery must have imbued the enormous doors with weightlessness, for at Zhars touch they swung inward, revealing a darkened hallway, which as the Khajiit passed through the stone portal was illuminated in rapid succession by more of the same magically-lit braziers.

As Sander too stepped over the threshold Elsas warning rang fresh in his mind, and he became uncomfortably aware of his heavy steel-shod boots, more likely to spring a trap or trigger a pressure plate than protect against one. Treading more gingerly and with greater care than before, the knight brought his crossbow to shoulder and continued into a passage now awash with viridian flames.

The blazing magefires threw into odd relief the intricate carvings which lined the walls and appeared to extend to the lofty ceiling above; the exaggerated figures and fantastical beasts depicted there seeming to shift and move just at the edge of the knights vision.

Drawing closer to one of these, Sander saw the artwork portrayed a dragon with wings outstretched, surrounded by a group of Nord warriors, who were knelt in an attitude of supplication. Wavering lines and intricate swirling patterns traced from the creature to the men and back once more, and the knight wondered whether this represented the subjugation of the humans by the dragon, reverence towards the beast itself, humility before a force of nature, or the transfer of some power or knowledge between the two parties. It could mean all, or none of these things.

Startled from his study of the mural by Zhars voice somewhere in the distance, the Redguard realised he was alone and hurried to catch up with his companions.

Moving through a round room containing only an empty stone pedestal and tentatively crossing an abyss spanned by a narrow bridge constructed from a beam of magicka resembling red light, Sander found his boots crunching gravel as he came upon his friends stood on the shores of a vast obsidian lake.

The water had collected in what was apparently a natural cavern, creating numerous rocky protrusions as it seeped down from the surface, through the bedrock, and dripped from the ceiling to form the massive subterranean reservoir which now lay before them, its onyx surface placid and smooth as glass.

Despite the deathly stillness the waters seemed alive with a sleepless malice, and Sander watched as Zhar conjured a storm atronach, a silent golem composed of rubble, cloud vapour and the forked lightning which bound its body together. Obediently, the daedric servant did as commanded and began to drift across the silent lake, the faint glow produced by the sparks of electricity which played over its roughly hewn features receding into the stygian gloom.

Sanders eyes strained to see the dim radiance produced by the construct, which now seemed to have halted almost uncertainly as it hovered above the lakes surface. There were two abrupt flashes of light, punctuated by resounding cracks as the atronach discharged lightning bolts into the water below, before a sinuous, ophidian mass erupted from the depths and the daedras light was utterly extinguished.

Sander took a knee and sighted along his crossbows stock as the waters near the lakeshore roiled and churned to reveal the lashing coils of a primordial monster. A sinister, flattened head extended into gaping, prognathous jaws, filled with needle-like teeth. That nightmarish maw distended wide enough to swallow a man whole, and the serpents body was thick as a battering ram, covered in rattling frills, spines and gleaming jet-black scales. With a ghastly cry somewhere between a hiss and a shriek the creature lunged, pale eyes alight with unnatural hunger.

Zhar and Elsa leapt aside as the vicious head struck at where they had been standing not moments before, the mage blasting the writhing horror with lightning in retaliation. Recoiling, the leviathan withdrew, hissing its frustration.

 

[AS88]

Kjorvir brushed past Sander as he stepped over stray rocks and skeever ribcages in the Hall of Stories. He had seen halls similar to this many times before, all unique in their size and design, but most all depicting chilling scenes of times gone by. Refusing to make eye contact with any of the carved figures on the murals, Kjorvir thought back to the old mercenary who always told him tall tales whenever he visited a tavern in Dawnstar.

"They say, boy, that the walls start off blank, save for the creepy feller in the middle. Every time the tomb claims a victim, their carving is added to the wall, and they become the guardians of the place forever. They say there's a way to avoid eternal damnation, so they do... I know you're listening to me boy! They say that if you don't look at the walls, the wall doesn't remember you. Suppose it's your choice - eternal service, or having your corpse eaten by the skeevers."

He shook his head and stopped. Ysmir's beard, I won't be ruled by an old man's tales! He turned and looked at the carvings, just as he used to when he'd been no more than a beginner in this job. Again his mind took him back to the past, to a time where he would look over scholars' shoulders to sneak a peek at their research notes, and ask his employers all about what they'd hoped to find. Before long Kjorvir had worked out that the approach wasn't always the most effective way of getting work, but as he gained more experience he had learned how to study the tombs himself, without paper and quill.

Brushing ancient dust off one of the carvings with a gloved hand, he looked into the eyes of the people kneeling before their master. He traced their gaze from one person to the next, until his gaze reached the one responsible for their subjugation, presumably the person for whom the tomb was built all those years ago. A cold gust seemed to rush through the Hall, or perhaps just across Kjorvir's shoulders. Briefly, he thought back to the man in Dawnstar, before heading out of the dimly-lit tunnel in pursuit of Zhar and Elsa.

Zhar and Elsa strode across the bridge, their tools at the ready. How can they hold such trust in something which is barely real? Kjorvir forced himself out into the abyss, kicking some dirt from the ledge over the apparition to make sure it was not a trick to isolate the other two. The dust settled on the first few feet of the bridge, causing a misty distraction from the perils of the drop below. Kjorvir took a few seconds to watch tiny pebbles slip across the surface of the bridge and tumble into the chasm, heaved a sigh and pressed on after the leading pair, with one hand gripped tightly around his shield and the other ready to snap to his sword at any moment. His pace quickened and he almost darted into a sprint as the light seemed to fade from under him, and he jumped warily over the final few feet to safety. He had already began to miss the supernatural lights in the first passage.

By the time he caught the Nord and Khajiit, they had passed through another puzzle door and were stood at the edge of a second ledge. Sander had caught up and Kjorvir gave him a stern nod, with a look of combined trust and concern. Kjorvir took a few steps back the way he had come while Zhar experimented in the cavern using a Storm Atronach. Daedra unsettled him at the best of times, but in a dark cavern in the middle of the Reach, seemingly following this 'Shadow' character straight into a trap, surrounded by people seemingly willing to do so, Kjorvir preferred to busy his mind with something else while the others observed. He returned to poke around the puzzle door and studied the pedestal and the riddle there.

The depths are forever,
The length is a lifetime.
Find your way across.
Let the King sleep.
........................

I hate riddles. The King is presumably someone Zhar was expecting to be here... Lodbrok? Kjorvir's thoughts trailed off as he saw the beast erupt from the lake. Monstrous, eldritch, immense, unfathomable. The group had no time to react before the beast lunged with unnatural velocity and slammed into the ledge they were stood upon. Out of instict, Kjorvir took a step to the side to avoid the lunge and ripped his sword from his scabbard with enough force to nearly tear it from top to bottom. As quickly as he had avoided the beast, he leapt back at it and struck along it's jaw. The scales and sheer size of the beast made his sword feel no more deadly than the wooden swords he and his father would train with, but the weapon's enchantment ran from its malachite edge and across the surface of the creature. The small wisp of flame on the sword poured across the creature's head as it recoiled and dove back into the lake. Kjorvir looked across to Zhar, sword still gripped firmly in hand.

"I don't think that's just water in there..."

 

[AS88]

Zhar's eyes darted to and fro along the lake's surface in hope of locating the serpent; body tense with magicka flowing through his body, the Khajiit could feel bloodlust mounting in his veins.

Turning his gaze to the stalactites Zhar's mind turned down a brutal path, one that would surely lead to the demise of the great lake beast. A smirk broke through the stone face of the Khajitt; lowering his hands Zhar relaxed his body and walked to the water's edge. With his eyes closed Zhar spoke to Elsa:

"The beast ate my atronach, a grave mistake on its part. I'll take advantage of it's folly."

With a snap of his fingers two flame atronachs appeared before their master and greeted him with a jovial display of twists, twirls, and flips. Opening his eyes Zhar greeted his servants with a smile.

"Hello, girls. I've missed you two." Point out toward the lake Zhar gave his orders: head out towards the center of the lake and stay together. Once again the duo performed an acrobatic display before carrying out their master's bidding.

Out across the lake the two atronachs drifted, their bodies a beacon of light in the blackness of the tomb. Closing his eyes once again Zhar focused his efforts into his magicka, his hands forming orbs of lightning that grew in size with each passing moment. Zhar heard the sound of the beast lunging out of the lake to swallow his children of flame and waiting for his cue.

The beast had just begun to retreat back into it's lair when an explosion erupted from it's jaws; the two flame atronachs gave way to a burst of energy that caused the serpent to screech in anguish. Zhar's eyes snapped open as he brought his right foot back a stride, bringing his hands together, causing the two lightning orbs to imbue together as one large mass of magicka. With a thunderous roar Zhar forced his palms forward and discharged the orb into a high intensity beam of lightning striking the beast's mouth.

The lake monster's muscles began to contract in pain; it's cries of pain were deafening and echoed off every surface. Writhing in pain the beast thrashed it's head from side to side colliding with the larger stalactites that hung from the cavern's ceiling, causing the stone to break away and pummel into the serpent's flesh. A few of the sharper stalactites pierced the beast's scaley armor.

With a second roar, more boisterous than the first, the mage forced more magicka out of his being and into his lightning storm. The added power was enough to burrow through the beast's mouth and into it's skull; effectively cooking the brain.

Smoke began to escape the serpent's jaws as the body went limp and crashed into the lake. Slowly the beast sank deeper into it's watery grave, a tomb within a tomb.

Ceasing his spell Zhar fell to his hands and knees gasping for breath.

"Damned...Beast..."

Rolling onto his back Zhar allowing his body to rest.


"Zhar will... NOT... Be doing... That again..."

 

[MjolnirV]

Zhar sat up and rubbed his temples, the mage's mind throbbing from his exertion of magicka. His vision slightly blurred and his extremities feeling numb the mage gathered himself and made it to his feet, only stumbling slightly. Once upright Zhar dusted off his robes and made his way to the edge of the great lake.

"Zhar greatly detests the thought of swimming... Do any of you, by some miracle of the gods, have a suggestion?"

The Khajiit's companions were as dumbstruck as he. Muttering curses to himself Zhar began to pace the length of the shoreline, hands behind his back, upper body leaning forward.

For an hour Zhar kept at it. Retelling the riddle to himself over and over again, formulating methods of crossing the lake with what resources could be found. (Unfortunately for him dirt and water do not create a buoyant vessel)

In mid stride Zhar pivoted on his heels to face his companions, who took to relaxing near the entryway, eye lid twitching before his face erupted into a hearty laugh. The puzzled expressions on his comrades' faces caused the mage to laugh even harder.

"It's so simple... It was staring us in the face the entire time!"
Everyone just stared at Zhar, lost to what discovery their guide had finally stumbled upon.
"The answer is IN the lake and yet it ISN'T in the lake."
Zhar ran to the pedestal with the inscription and ran his finger across each line,
"It's all here, 'The depths are forever, The length a lifetime' means we can spend forever scouring this blasted cave and not find the answer unless you 'Let the King sleep.' The lake beast holds the key to crossing the lake! Sleep is synonymous with death and only with the serpent's death will we find the orb that will let us cross!"

At this point Zhar was dancing in his boots, his grin caused his face to hurt but he continued to smile. "Somebody must dive into the lake and retrieve the orb from the carcass..."

 

[Aerin]

Elsa was stood slightly to the side, her breathing heavy as her muscles burned from exertion. Now that the beast was dead it was time to move on and get out of this damnable cavern.

Pushing the loose strands of hair from her face and checking her bow for signs of damage she walked over to the others who were thinking on how to proceed.

Of course Zhar needed but a moment before the Mage stumbled upon the solution. At his revelation that someone would be required to swim down and retrieve another gods be damned orb from the water beasts body Elsa sighed rather loudly.

The others at least had the decency to look uncomfortable as it became quite clear who would be diving. eWorld it be the water hating Mage? Or perhaps one of the two warriors clad in cumbersome heavy armour? No, no if course it would be best if she were to do the retrieving of the strange but valuable ball of whatever put there by whoever. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it. I'm just looking for another orb thing right? Should be simple enough."

Placing her bag on the ground Elsa quickly removed her outer layer, her leathers carefully placed upon her pack. Clad in some simple woollen leggings and a tunic she thanked her nord blood and prayed that the water wouldn't be too uncomfortable. Rifling through her bag she pulled out a small phial, white in colour, that contained a strange swirling liquid that seemed to move within the bottle of it's own accord. Provided the water was not too deep she would have plenty of time, however if not she knew she had another bottle of the potion in her bag should she need it. She grabbed her small knife and looked towards the dark expanse of water and poured slightly. It was dark and seeing the near black scales of the creature would be near impossible, even with her vision. "Zhar, could you throw a light for me? You know the spell with the hovering light that follows you? What's that one called? Never mind, you know what I'm talking about."

Uncorking the stopped with her teeth she spat the top onto her clothes and quickly downed the milky fluid, grimacing at the sensation of the thick potion sliding down her throat. Coughing briefly she ran towards the water and dove in, feeling the soft glow from Zhar's magika follow her.

Once in the water Elsa thanked the gods that the potion was working and she began to swim downwards, her knife now clenched between her teeth. She could begin to see the outline of the creature form before her eyes, and though she had just witnessed it's death, the sight of the monster sent a icy spike of fear through her gut. Swallowing hard she pressed on, eyes stinging in the murky water but intent on the goal of location the orb.

The light from Zhar's spell reflected on an odd surface, the glint catching the corner of her eye, and Elsa was quick to dive further down and grab the orb. It was a small distance from the body, tangled in weeds and vines, lying atop numerous skeletons and perhaps more disturbingly, the bloated and warped body parts of more recent victims. Bracing herself she grabbed onto the orb, it's surface dimpled and rough, wholly unlike the smooth and almost pearlescent surface of the precious artefact.

Holding it close to her body Elsa kicked upwards only to find she had a weed wrapped around her shin. Very aware she was running out of time before the potion lost effect she tried to tamp down on her rising panic, the claustrophobia of the pitch black murk that surrounding her scratching at her mind. Grabbing her knife she artlessly hacked at the plant, cutting her self in a few places were the weed had tightly would itself around her ankle.

As soon as she was free she placed the knife in her mouth once more and ascended, her lungs beginning to tighten as the potion wore off. Fighting her way up through detritus and more underwater foliage Elsa was desperate to see the surface, her lungs now burning as she was forced to hold her breath. Zhar's light seemed to shudder and flicker too, and the thief was all to aware that she had to surface now.

Breaking the surface Elsa gasped for air, her eyes wide and she tried to blink away the water that cling to her lashes. She could feel some of the weeds had tangled in her hair which was plastered across her face but she hugged the orb tighter to her body and lazily swam over to the waters edge where the others were stood. Lifting the orb gently she rolled it towards Kjorvir's feet and hauled herself out of the water, her body shaking from the cold now she was out and subjected to the icy winds that blew through the tomb. Wrapping herself in the blanket tied to her pack she hurriedly dried herself, hoping the leather of her armour would help to warm her.

Once dressed and ready to travel once more Elsa cupped her hands and concentrated on forming a small ball of fire to warm her now wrinkles fingers. The others were already examine the magic artefact with keen interest so she simply walked over to stand beside them and wait for the path to be revealed.

 

[MjolnirV]

When Elsa broke the water's surface gasping for air Zhar couldn't help himself but to chuckle. "A graceful creature Elsa is. How could anybody resist her charm?"

As the Nord changed back into her leathers Kjorvir studied the pitted orb, at the center of which a deep hue of blue spiraling in a slow, clockwise motion. Despite having the device in hand nothing happen; no glimmering bridge made of arcane material, no burst of magicka to evaporate the lake. Kjorvir shot Zhar a puzzled look, hoping he did not damage the orb in any way, however Zhar met the warrior with the same expression of curiosity. "Zhar is unsure as to why the orb isn't working..."

Reaching out the Khajiit took the orb from Kjorvir's grasp. Upon touching the sphere the blue hue at the core gave a flash of light and the small vortex of magicka spun at an increased rate, with it the lake began to churn into a whirlpool. Within a few moments the lake drained through a series of canals, most likely emptying into some other chamber farther into the earth.

With a twinge of his ear Zhar approached the staircase, which was now fully exposed and led down into the cavity of the once great lake. The mage's eyes grew wide as the braziers running parallel to the steps ignited one by one into green flame, each flickering in his pupils. At the bottom of the staircase was another dragon claw door awaiting the key claw. "The cleverness of the tomb's architect never ceases to amaze Zhar. Truly remarkable."

The party then made its way down the stone steps to the ancient door. After arranging the effigies in the correct order and inserting the claw into it's indention the door gave way. With the first moment of exposure a freezing gust leaked from the next chamber...

 

[MjolnirV]

What was hidden behind the dragon claw door was not a ruined chamber but a frozen arena one hundred meters in length. The walls were a sleek sheet of ice and on the floor was a foot of snow. Numerous pillars ran the length of the arena, each carved from stone but were covered with snow. With every exhale Zhar could see his breath. From the ceiling hung large chandeliers alight with green candles which reflected beautifully off the ice and sparkled in the snow. On the far end of the arena was a large throne, far too large for a man or elf to sit in, chiseled from a glacier.

Zhar stepped into the new room and looked about it curiously, his eyes wandering from the carvings upon the pillars to the ice running from floor to ceiling.

When the party reached the center of the arena the chandeliers went dark and the frozen throne began to emit a blue light. Soon a figure began to form seated upon the throne, it was a large creature with horns protruding from it's cranium. As the figure came into being the group quickly recognized it as a frost giant with a large club by it's side.

Soon the chandeliers reignited and the green flames once again illuminated the chamber. The sound of rock scraping against rock alerted Zhar and was discovered to be the entrance to the arena closing behind the party.

The frost giant stood from his throne, lifted his club and charged at his prey...

 

[Sierra312]

"Sander had little time to react as the creature surged forwards onto the shore for a second foray, and a snaking coil, strong and hard as black iron, smashed the wind from his lungs and buffeted the knight to the ground.

This time Kjorvir bore the brunt of the serpents attack, and was barely able to avoid the questing head and savage jaws as he spun aside, only to whirl, blindingly fast, to deliver a powerful counter-strike. The malachite sword shone in the darkness as the enchantment within unleashed a torrent of flames which poured over the beasts mailed skull . . . "

The events played themselves over and over in the knights mind. The speed with which Zhar and Kjorvir had reacted to the danger. He, Sander, had not been fast enough. That made him slow, and slow could get you killed.

"Focus," the Redguard told himself, "be faster." But it was one thing to think it; acting was quite another.

He watched with some interest as Elsa emerged from the black waters of the morass, the artifact they needed to progress further into the tomb clutched tight in her fingers. She looked small, and cold. He shuddered: diving into that lake, where the coils of the monster lay, wrapped both by the waters icy chill and the embrace of death, colder still, seemed like a foolhardy task.

Looking over to Zhar and Kjorvir, he watched as they studied the orb Elsa had acquired. The warrior passed the object to the mage, whose touch seemed to activate a response in the sphere's depths; it flashed, and some surge of energy within began to swirl, glowing brighter, answering perhaps to the call of the kindred magic it found in Zhar.

With a dull roar the waters of the lake began to drain into a tremendous whirlpool, revealing immense stone steps as they subsided into an array of channels cut into the chambers walls. The body of the serpent, too, had disappeared along with the once menacing waters, sucked, as they were, into the bowels of the earth.

Now, green light flared in the depths of the chamber that lay before them, as more of the braziers native to the tomb burst into flame, illuminating the damp stairs which descended deeper into the dark.

At the bottom, the party found themselves once again confronted by an enormous door. Unlike the first, this required a key to open: a series of huge, interlocking stone rings depicted more of the swirling carvings which seemed to crawl and move just at the edge of vision. Each ring was divided into bands, with a corresponding plaque of dull metal wrought into the likeness of an ancient creature the Nords had once revered, or feared. In the center-most band there was an indentation, which displayed no carvings but was the housing for an ornate treasure: the dragon claw key used to open the lock. The rotating bands could then be shifted so that each creature on the rings matched those of the key, and only then would the portal give way to allow access to whatever lay beyond.

Sander dimly recalled the conversation he had once overheard between two adventurers as they pondered the mysteries of a tomb not unlike this one.

"It makes no sense," one was saying, "why even bother with the symbols?"

"What do you mean?" his companion asked.

"If you have the claw, you have the symbols to open the door. Why even have a combination if you're going to write it on the key?"

"So?"

"So the symbols on the doors aren't meant to be another lock. Just a way of making sure the person entering is alive and has a functioning mind."

"Then the doors . . ."

"Were never meant to keep people out. They were made to keep something in."

The stone rings ground, rock on rock, slowly rotating into place, and the door opened.