» Tue Dec 06, 2011 7:00 am Aelwin is an ex-soldier who served in the Imperial Legion, and before that he fought for one of the Breton lords. He is a sword and shield warrior with some restoration magic. I'm playing "dead is dead", so if he dies in the game he will die in the blog (hopefully that won't happen for a while!) Also, I'm new to the Elder Scrolls series, so I hope I don't make any big lore blunders.
Here is the first instalment, I hope you enjoy it. Any comments and critique are welcome.
Thanks.
--------------------------------------------
Tirdas, 18th of Last Seed, 4E201, a cave in the Deep Falls Barrow.
Aelwin paused when he reached the top of the ramp and took in the chamber beyond. It had the same half built, half natural look that the previous ones had. The bare rock was slick with water and stalactites hung where it dripped into stagnant puddles on the floor. In contrast to this, there was a series of thick stone pillars appearing to hold the roof up, and two plinths on his right which held ancient stone and iron coffins. At the far end, the chamber opened out into a large space which was so brightly lit it could only be sunlight streaming in. This place was different, he thought. Different from the series of caverns and corridors he had passed through to get here. There was something ominous about the cavern. Even the draugr, the undead skeletons he had had to fight his way through, hadn't felt as evil as this place. Perhaps this was where their dead lord was entombed?
Aelwin stepped carefully into the chamber, his shield and mace at the ready and the elf, Faendal, following behind him. The sound of his boots crunching on the loose rock disturbed a flock of bats, and the creatures flooded down from the ceiling and past him into the corridor he had arrived from. He heard Faendal gasp in surprise. The kid was a good shot with that bow of his, Aelwin grinned to himself, but he had a lot to learn about real fighting. In time he might stop jumping at every shadow. Satisfied that there were no immediate threats, Aelwin walked further into the chamber.
The large space at the end of the chamber was lit by a bright shaft of sunlight beaming down from a large crack in the ceiling fifty metres above. It illuminated a flight of steps leading up to a smooth stone platform. At the end of the platform was a large carved wall. There was a carving that looked like the face of some ancient creature and below that were lines of writing. The craftsmanship of the carving was impressive, for it to have lasted so long in this damp cave.
Aelwin felt strangely drawn to the carvings, and as he walked closer he thought he could hear voices chanting. He whipped around, hunting for the source.
"Do you hear that?" he whispered.
"Hear what?" Faendal replied.
"Voices, chanting," Aelwin said, still looking about the chamber.
"No. Only the water and the bats. Are you alright? Maybe we should go back?"
"There's something here. Be on your guard, keep your eyes open and your weapons ready."
Aelwin walked cautiously up the stone steps. The chanting was getting louder as he approached the wall. He reached the platform and saw another of the stone and iron coffins next to a chest. Aelwin gestured to Faendal, watch the coffin. He didn't want to be caught out by another of those dead Draugr climbing out of it. He had that feeling, the anticipation of a fight. He checked over his gear. The straps were all done up on his armour, he had his mace and shield at the ready. He had some potions in his belt -- some health and a resist cold -- and a scroll he had picked up earlier, something to do with keeping undead at bay. That might be handy. Aelwin stretched his shoulders then relaxed them. Taking a deep breath, he stepped up to the wall.
The chanting got louder. One of the words carved into the wall started to glow an eerie blue colour. He stepped closer. He couldn't draw his eyes away from it. Closer. Wind rushed in his ears. All he could hear was the chanting, all he could see was the glowing word. Closer.
Then suddenly it stopped. Aelwin found he had dropped to his knees in front of the carving. The word was no longer glowing and the chanting voices had stopped. Aelwin felt Faendal's hand on his shoulder.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes. I think so."
"What was that?"
"I... I don't know."
"I think we should go. I don't like it in here."
"Perhaps you're right..."
There was a loud cracking, crunching, grinding sound behind them, like someone crushing animal bones with a pestle. Except Aelwin knew it was the other way around. It was the sound of ancient bones punching through the lid of an iron-bound stone coffin. It was a sound made all too familiar over the last few hours.
"The coffin!" he yelled.
The pair of them swung round. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Aelwin realised he was right, this chamber was where they had buried their lord. Faendal stared in shock as the creature burst through the lid of the coffin. Aelwin dashed forward and leapt up onto the plinth holding the coffin, shield held in front of him, mace raised high. The creature had barely had time to sit up before Aelwin's mace came crashing down on its helmeted skull. The ancient skeleton barely seemed to notice. It turned and hissed at Aelwin, then drew a rattling breath and shouted.
Aelwin was thrown backwards away from the draugr Lord, landing against the chest. How did a skeleton draw breath and shout, the logical part of his brain wondered? The fighting part pushed the thoughts away. Some other time. He pushed himself back to his feet, thankful that he had kept hold of his shield and mace. The instincts from his Legion days were still there he was glad to see.
He pushed himself to his feet and turned to face his enemy. An arrow thumped into the creature's skull from the side. Faendal had recovered from his shock then. The draugr raised its sword to strike at Aelwin, and he only just got his shield up in time. The blow thudded into the wood, sending a sharp shock up Aelwin's arm and driving him a step backwards.
The creature drew back its arm to strike again, but Aelwin was ready this time. As the sword fell, he lunged forwards and bashed the descending arm out of the way with his shield. The skeleton staggered backwards, dropping its guard for an instant and Aelwin swung with his mace. The flanged head bit into the creature's ribs, cracking and splintering them.
Aelwin swung again, but the skeleton blocked his blow with its shield this time. It followed up with a sweep of its sword which Aelwin caught with his shield. The blow bounced off the iron boss in the centre of the shield and flew up, catching Aelwin on his upper arm. It was a shallow cut that drew only a little blood, but it felt to Aelwin like someone had poured ice water on his arm. Sheor take this thing, it had some kind of magic weapon. He dodged back as the thing took another swing at him. He could feel his shield arm was sluggish, slow to respond. Best not to think about what will happen if it does more than scratch me, Aelwin thought.
Another arrow from Faendal struck the creature, catching it in the hip. The arrow head lodged in the joint, wedging the draugr's thigh in place. Aelwin took the opportunity to strike at the creatures left shoulder. The mace crushed the collar bone with a crunch and bit into the top rib. The rotten tendons parted and the skeleton's shield arm went limp. Aelwin drew the mace back and struck again. The draugr tried to raise its shield to block the blow, but its arm was too badly damaged. The mace caught it high on the left arm, cracking the femur and severing more of the decayed muscle fibres.
Enraged, the draugr screamed at Aelwin and struck at him with its icy sword. Blow after blow bit into Aelwin's shield, sending shocks up his arm and driving him backwards. His right foot came up against something hard. The chest. Aelwin braced his foot against the chest, and as the sword came down for its next strike, Aelwin pushed off with his leg and slammed the shield forwards. The blow from the shield knocked the sword aside and the edge cracked into the creature's chest. Aelwin hit it again and again with the shield, splintering ribs and breaking off fragments of its rusted armour each time. The fourth blow broke through the armour and split the draugr's sternum, the edge of the shield driving deep inside the creature's chest.
The shield caught in the creature's chest, trapped by the broken rib bones. The draugr leered at Aelwin over the top of the shield, its eyes glowing an icy blue, and made a strange rasping, coughing noise that could only be laughter. Aelwin roared back at it, then swung his mace down on the creature's skull with all of his remaining strength. One of the mace's flanges cut through the helmet like butter and bit deep into the skull. The force of the blow threw the creature back, ripping the shield from its chest. The draugr gave a final gurgling splutter, then the unnatural light in its eyes faded to nothing.
Aelwin stood there for a moment as the last of the adrenaline washed over him. Praise be to Talos, he thought, that was a close one. Pulling a rag from his pouch, he wiped the sweat from his brow.
He glanced over at Faendal. "You okay?"
"Yes, I think so," the elf replied.
"Good." Aelwin grunted.
Turning back, he checked the cut on his arm. The cold feeling had gone now and he could see that the cut wasn't deep. He summoned a trickle of energy from Aethrius and focused it on the wound. As he watched, the bleeding stopped and the skin started to knit together. He continued until the scar had faded into nothing.
Aelwin crouched down to look at the decayed corpse. Should he take the sword? If it was cursed then he should destroy it so that it couldn't hurt anyone else. On the other hand, if it was a straight forward enchantment, then it could be a useful weapon. Either way he couldn't just leave it here, so he picked it up, slid it back into its sheath and hooked it onto his belt. Maybe he would find a wizard who could tell him. Until then, though, he wouldn't use it.
What else was there on the corpse; some gold coins, a couple of gems and a carved stone tablet. He studied the tablet, turning it over in his hands. There was what looked like a map of Skyrim on one side, and some strange writing on the other that matched the writing on the carved wall behind him. An artefact like that might be valuable to the right person so he tucked it into his satchel.
Aelwin got to his feet and gestured to Faendal. "Come on, it's time we were going. It'll be a fair treck back to Riverwood."
He took one last look around the cavern. Now that the ominous feeling had dissipated, the cavern was actually rather pleasant. The sunlight streaming in from the crack in the ceiling, the water cascading down the wall. Back in its day, this would have made an impressive hall for the lord who lived here.
