This Entry Contains Violence, Nudity and Coarse Language. Viewer Discretion is Advised.
Esbern awoke to a sudden screaming that cut through the peacefulness of the early morning hours.
"Mara have mercy, that gave me a fright." The woman behind the counter said in exasperation.
"What's the matter?" Esbern asked Eydis, the keeper of Old Hroldan Inn as he emerged from his rented room clothed and dagger in hand.
"There's a... Ghost. Just wandering around my inn like is owned the place." The woman seemed shaken.
"You say you've seen a ghost?" The old man questioned, looking puzzled and still half asleep, sheathing his weapon.
"Yes. I've heard stories that Old Hroldan was haunted, but no ones seen a ghost here since the Great War. He's from the battle, I just know it. He's got to be one of Tiber Septim's soldiers... back from the dead."
"Perhaps he's just thirsty." Esbern quipped at her with a half smirk and a raised eye brow.
Eydis clutched a bottle and picked it up. Her knuckles white and daggers in her stare. "I'll give you ale, alright."
"I'll... go see what it wants." He shrunk back from the innkeeper her temper receding as she placed the bottle back on the counter top.
"Hjalti? Is that you? I've been waiting." The ghost spoke aloud, misplacing Esbern for an old friend. "I fought by your side. To take back the Reach from the savages. Do you remember me now Hjalti?"
"Hjalti? Who is that?" Esbern looked at the luminous figure. One eyebrow cocked higher than the other in confusion. Clearly the ghost had mistaken him for another.
"You promised me, Hjalti. You promised that when we sacked Hroldan, you would make me your sword brother. And I've waited. Even after the enemies' arrows dug into my chest and their hammers crushed my bones. I've waited. Give me your sword Hjalti. That we may become brothers as you promised."
"Can not fetch you the sword, friend. I must be off to find my own." Esbern tried to explain to the apparition.
"I cannot go into battle without a sword, Hjalti. You don't remember me Hjalti? Two campaigns we served together. You saved my life time and time again."
"My apologies soldier but I must be off."
Esbern turned his back on the blue spectre and walked across the inn to speak with Eydis.
"He seeks someone named Hjalti. He also mentioned a sword."
"Hjalti? I've never heard of anyone named Hjalti. "Eydis puzzled over the information Esbern had brought her as she looked around him eyeing the ghost while he made himself at home. "Tiber Septim had many names." She continued now looking at the old man in front of her. "Maybe that's one of them? As for the sword, I remember a legend that Tiber Septim had attacked one of the enemy camps before he came to Old Hroldan. It could be there. Here," she said. "I'll mark it down on your map."
"Well perhaps one day someone will bring him this sword he seeks, but I must be off, Eydis."
"So you will not do what he wants? You must. He thinks you are Hjalti."
Esbern shook his head as he stood there in silence, his eyes fixed on her as she reached again for the bottle of ale.
"He's only here because of you." Her tone growing louder and her brow furrowed in anger.
Esbern knew it was time to take his leave as he backed away from the woman behind the counter. The bottle in her hand sailed across the inn as he reached for the door. It flew through the chest of the ghost sitting at the table who remained unfazed by the action, before smashing against the wall and soaking the stone in ale while bits of broken glass scattered across the floor.
***
The heavy wooden door of the old inn creaked as it came to a close. The sound of glass shattering cracked the air and Esbern was happy to be on the other side of the door. Against the night sky a bold red light could be seen coming from the south. It came from up in the mountains near the old ruins of Valthuum. The old man had to hurry now. Time was of the essence. He couldn't let another finish his task for him before he even got started.
Esbern walked from the inn on the hill back to the road that ran along the Karth River. As he was crossing a bridge near where he resumed his journey he could see torch light walking his way from along the opposite shore. It's light reflecting off of golden elven-made half-helms. He counted three of them in the darkness. Ahead at the end of the bridge was a shrine to Dibella, Goddess of Beauty. Esbern ducked low behind the stone railing of the bridge and ran for the statue just ahead. The old Blade fugitive drew up his hood and wrapped his cloak about him and fell to his knees, shrouding himself from the passers-by, he appeared to be just another traveler who stopped to say a prayer before the Goddess. Esbern positioned himself facing the shrine but also towards the High Elves where he might keep an eye on them from his down-turned face. One of the tall Thalmor looked his way but seen only a cloaked figure worn from the road, head bowed and hands clasped together. The armed patrol continued to follow the road across the bridge. Esbern was certain he was in the clear for a while now as he rose from his position and placed an old coin in the wooden bowl upon the base of the statue depicting the Goddess of Beauty. "Praise you." He murmured softly.
Esbern continued west for a short ways before turning north to Karthspire. He knew he would have to venture through the old caves to get to Cloud Ruler Temple if he wanted to avoid the Thalmor. It had been a long while since the old Blade had been this way. The grounds surrounding Karthspire were filled with the Forsworn tribesmen. They had managed to build a small village over the water consisting of numerous huts all connected by wooden walkways and ramps that remained elevated above the river by large wooden posts. The sight was remarkable. How a band of savage tribesmen could build such structures was beyond his comprehension. The old path to Karthspire was blocked now by ramps too high to climb on to. There was no going around without being spotted. He had to go under and that meant getting wet. Esbern prepared himself and reached for his dagger and bit down on it, holding it safely between his teeth so the current wouldn't rip it from its place at his hip. He took his pack from his back and held it over his head with both hands as he slipped slowly and quietly into the icy water and walked under the elevated walkway and its supporting structure. His foot slipped as a rock underfoot turned over causing him to splash in the water. He caught himself before falling under to be swept away by the current. The splash he made caught the attention of a near-by savage who was sitting on a chair next to a brazier fixing what looked to be a bone blade to a long wooden handle with thin leather strips. Putting down his unfinished makeshift axe, the Forsworn moved from his seat by the warmth of the fire and came to investigate. Esbern backed up so he was under the wooden bridge and out of sight. He could still see his searcher dressed in his patchwork of hides and belts and animal bones through the gaps in the wooden slats that made up the platform over head. Esbern silently wedged his pack in a V of the lower supporting structure and took his dagger from between his teeth holding it in a reverse grip. He moved deeper into the water staying under the elevated ramp. The icy water was now up to his chest and he was directly beneath the savage. He knocked on the wood with the side of his blade to draw his searchers attention. Pulling a bone-tooth sword from his hip, the Forsworn bent over to investigate the noise. As his head emerged from above the rough wooden planks Esbern buried his dagger to the hilt under the man's jaw and dragged him below the water holding him there while he drowned. The splash it caused was minimal but did not go entirely unnoticed. Esbern grabbed his pack and emerged from below the structure keeping himself low. Two others had come in search of their tribemate. Both wore the same basic patchwork armor as the first, one had a headdress of an elks skull and short antlers. He was the larger of the two and wielded a pair of bone axes. The other held only a dagger. They spotted the drowned corpse floating down stream towards a waterfall.
"Show yourself, killer. And we'll show you a quick death." One of them called out.
Esbern took advantage of their distraction and pulled himself from the cold waters and into the long grass on the shore. He picked up a stone from the waters edge and threw it into the grass just ahead of him. The savages turned their attention to where the rock landed a short distance from the old Blade and immediately proceeded to search the area. The one wielding the dagger was nearest, the bigger one followed a few steps behind. He could see them through the grasses and one was looking right at him. The darkness concealed the old man but sealed the fate of the one holding the dagger. Esbern lunged from the tall grass and drove his dagger hilt deep into the heart of the man in furs whose eyes went wide as eggs, his other hand upon the wrist of the hand holding the surprised mans rust covered dagger. His soft layered armor did nothing against the sharpened steel his attacker held. Esbern continued to charge the other, pushing his victim backwards using him as a shield against the twin axes of the coming tribesman. The Forsworn swung his weapons at the same time bringing them both down from overhead and into the back of his fallen friend removing the strangers shield. Esbern disarmed the dead man of his rusted blade and his dagger pulled free from the savage after the first attack when the body fell away. Before the man in furs could pull his weapons free of the dead weight, Esbern feinted right and as the savage turned, Esbern then went left and got inside of his attackers defences burying both daggers into his ribs. As he pulled them out a spurt of blood had sprayed the ground around them in red, he had found the heart but still the wildling seemed to have some fight left in him. Esbern buried the short blades again. This time the Savage stopped fighting and fell to the ground, his mouth filling with blood and pulling the old man to the ground on top of him. He watched the life fade from the dying man for a moment before shaking his head. Dirty work, saving the world.
It was all over in a matter of moments. Esbern picked his head up to peak from the tall grass to see if the commotion had brought any other unwanted attention to his presence. He didn't seem to think so. He could see one other Forsworn walking the ramps across the river as the sun began to light the sky and scattered clouds above in hues of yellows and pinks illuminating the world around them. Once the man was out of sight, Esbern climbed the old path in to Karthspire and entered the ancient cavern system below the high mountain.
It took some time for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but in the distance light could be seen as it penetrated a large crevice in the rock over head letting in the natural light. He walked across the caverns wide entrance and up a stone ramp to a landing where there was an ancient pillar puzzle. It had been solved. Esbern examined the dirt and dust that had collected around the base. These had been moved long ago. Even the stone bridge that the puzzle engaged had been in place for some time as there was moss and ivy growing over and across it. Esbern moved forward across the bridge and came to another tunnel. Within the passage of rock he could not even see his own hand before his face, but he knew these old tunnels like he never left them. This used to be home. The old man, still soaking wet from his time in the water placed his hand upon the wall and followed it until he came to another room. There were dead Thalmor scattered across the floor. They had died upon the pressure plates in the floor as they tried to disarm the trap with the deactivation chain held by a gargoyle at the far end of the room. Esbern bent down and examined the corpse of the elf nearest him. Nothing usable but an old dulled sword and a torch. The torch he took from the dead Thalmor's hand. The old gauntlet that grasped it came away with the torch as the skeletal arm broke away from its body at the elbow. He shook it off. Taking some of the old clothing that remained on the skeleton, he wound it around the head of the torch and reach into his pack. From it, Esbern pulled a chunk of shale and struck a spark with the old dulled blade. The rags caught instantly and before long lit the area around him. Torch held low, the old Blade walked across the room stepping only upon the correctly marked tiles of the ancient but very operational trap. He left the traps lever engaged should anyone follow him inside. He exited the room and entered another chamber through a carved stone archway, before him was a room, it shared the same natural light as the room on the open lower level. On the floor, the old seal of the Dov remained unsolved. It would require blood of a dragon to open. Something that had long since disappeared from Tamriel. Esburn looked around the room and found an abandoned camp in a darkened corner. A few old bedrolls and some minor supplies. Nothing more than an old cook pot, a tanning rack that had seen better days and a few rocks that had been kicked out of place. They used to make a circle at one point in time, within them there was a pile of half burnt wood, its ends charred by fire. Roots most like and too wet to catch fire properly when the original fire was made. They had long since dried out. Esbern repositioned the rocks to reform the circle around the wood and put his torch to the dried roots. The fire caught quickly, but it wouldn't last forever and there was nothing else dry enough to burn within the cavern. Then he took the old dilapidated tanning rack and hung his clothes from it to dry while dragging over an old bedroll to sit on, warming himself by the flames.
Sitting bare arsed on one bedroll with the other wrapped around him to keep warm waiting for his clothes to dry, Esbern found himself deep in thought.
I'm not about to kill a dragon with this puny dagger, so I'll would need to find another way in. Going through the Thalmor guards that are likely posted at the other entrance is out of the question.
He knew he could handle a few ill-equipped savages but not trained soldiers with elven crafted blades... That's when it hit him.
The blade. The Ghost of Old Hroldan. Find Hjalti's blade for the old ghost and bring him here to activate the lever from the other side and release the Dragon Seal to lower the Headway. I must find that sword.
Only then he would gain entrance to Cloud Ruler Temple, ancient headquarters of The Blades.
Esbern pulled his pack nearer and shuffled through its contents before pulling forth his map. He searched for her mark. There, marked with an X and circled in charcoal.
Broken Tower Redoubt.
***
Esbern emerged from the caverns of Karthspire and remained low. The old path before him would lead him back to the over-water village of the Forsworn hilltribe. He looked to his right and decided to climb down the rock face. It wasn't all that steep and the climb up would surely have been far more difficult to achieve than climbing down. He started his way down the slope being sure of his footing before continuing down to the next ledge. From his height he could see a far ways down the old road that lead to Markarth and Karthwasten. Then he saw them. They were returning from the way they went earlier. They must have stopped at the Inn. Eydis or her boy must have mentioned seeing him there and she was in a right mood for causing the old man trouble after his refusing to help her. The three Thalmor Justiciary marched down the road towards him. The old man, nimble for his age quickly climbed down and along another ledge to a group of small pines where he took his perch in their lower branches. He watched them from his cover as they passed him by. He let them continue on their way for a short while before emerging from his hiding spot. Two more ledges of rock he had to climb down before he was back on level ground.
He crossed back over the Karth River by way of the stone bridge. The Thalmor never left his sight in the distance as he stalked them from behind. He needed to know where they were headed so that way he might avoid them. It was only a short time before the Thalmor turned in at Markarth. Searching for him there might take them a while. He hoped that would buy him some time to gain some ground on them so he might get to Broken Tower Redoubt without confrontation.
The old man shrouded in his cloak walked along the low road that followed the river as it came in and out of view. With Markarth behind him it was only a short few hours walk to the bridge that crossed the river beyond Karthwasten and headed east up into the high hills. Aside from a small pack of wolves that kept their distance, the rest of the trip was fairly uneventful. The sun was high in the sky now and it must have been coming on meal time. His stomach gave a low growl, he hadn't eaten anything since the sweetroll he had the night before at the inn. He grabbed his waterskin that hung from his pack hoping that the water would quench his parched throat and quell the churning in his stomach. He noticed something from the corner of his eye as stood up after depositing his water skin back onto his fur pack.
Bloody Thalmor again? They've swarmed the Reach like flies on a skeever's corpse.
The old man continued forward, his hood drawn up and his face down as he met the four Thalmor on the road.
"Move along traveler. This is Thalmor business." The one that led them announced. They were escorting a soldier of the Stormcloak rebellion to one of the major keeps.
Esbern put some speed in his step keeping his head low.
"Wait. You, hold there!" Another voice commanded as he passed.
Esbern slowed and hesitated but did not turn around.
"I know your face. You're one of the ones that Lady Elenwen is searching for." He spoke up again.
At the sound of the woman's name Esbern ran for all he was worth and turned when came to a path that lead down into the hills. He hoped he could lose them there and if not he would have to risk the cold waters and sharp rocks of the river as he let the current take him through the fast moving waters through the rapids and falls. A javelin of solid ice flew past his head.
Damn, they've got a mage with them.
The ice shattered on a stone ahead of him. Another one came but was thrown too high. It impaled a small juniper tree just ahead of him. Esbern came to a valley filled with rocks that protruded from the earth, each at least twice the height of any man and nearly as wide. He hoped to hide amongst them so he might face them one-by-one. But beyond the rocks he found a camp.
Forsworn. He thought in a surge on panic.
But he was mistaken. It was a camp of Stormcloaks.
"Help me. Please, help me. The...The Thalmor are trying to capture me. They've got one... of your own." He stammered breathlessly, exhausted from the chase.
Six men in Stormcloak uniforms stood around the man bewildered as he barged into their camp, trying to register what the traveler had just said.
"You heard him!" One of them yelled. He was wearing officers garb, complete with bear cloak, claws and mantle. "Lets go claim our brother and kill those Imperial-loving bastards."
The soldiers followed their leader over the grass hill and through the high rocks and met the Thalmor head on, taking them unawares. Esbern stayed behind. The Thalmor Mage readied another conjured ice lance and the captive Stormcloak he was escorting bowled into him with his shoulders as he made to throw it, both of them falling to the ground. The captive looked over lying on the hard ground and already the mage had an axe buried in his skull with nothing to protect it but a hood. He pried out the lodged weapon with two bound hands and fought with his brothers burying it in the back of another Elf with an overhead attack.
When the fighting was over, the party returned to their camp and questioned the old man that they saved here on this afternoon.
"Now ol' timer," Kottir Red-Shoal, the Acting Commander of the Stormcloak Reach Encampment said squaring his shoulders to Esbern who now stood in front of him and next to the blazing fire. "Why was those Thalmor n'terested in a weary ol' traveler? What is it 'bout ya that would make the Thalmor give chase while already escortin' a prisoner? I suppose what I mean to say is, 'What makes ya so damn important to 'em?'" His head was tilted slightly back and his eyes were open wide, nostrils slightly flared as he breathed in the cool air. His expression almost as if he was expecting something strange to happen.
Esbern looked Kottir Red-Shoal in the eyes and straight faced. Even the lines in his brow disappeared as he held his mask of facade. Silence filled the air between them as the men stood by the fire holding each others gaze, neither man wavering.
"I called their mothers a pack of haggard Orsimer." He grinned with a sly face.
The silence remained unbroken for a moment. Not even the soldiers looking on broke a smile. It was Kottir that broke first unable to keep his unwavering facade. The rest of his men followed in hysterical laughter.
"Aye! That'd bout do it." He roared laughing with his men as Esbern join in. "Them Mer are too proud and keep stickin'em long noses where they ain't be needed." The large Nord handed Esbern a tankard of thick Nordic Mead, pouring it himself from the keg on a nearby table. "I like ya' ol' timer. what brings ya' through savage n'fested territory in the middle of a bleedin' war with no guard an' not to protect yerself but tha' small meat pick on yer belt."
"I'm headed into Broken Tower Redoubt to-" Esbern replied between gulps of the thick brown liquid.
The Acting Commander cut him off before he finished. "Ya Don' want ta be headed in there, I tell ya." Esbern looked at him knowing he was about to confirm what he already suspected. "It's full o'dem Forsworn tribesfolk. We pushed them from these lands and they ended up barricading themselves inside."
"I've got no choice. There is something in there I require. A lever, so-to-speak." Esbern finished after Kottir gave his warning.
"Well I can't let ya go in alone. That'd be the end o' ya if ya tried."
"And what about your post?" Esbern questioned. "You can't very well leave it."
"Aye. We can an' we will. We'll be gone half the day an' it beats sittin' here feedin' these bloody flies." He told the traveler before him as slapped another fly. After removing his hand from his bicep Esbern seen the fly drew blood on the Nords arm. He could see the man's point. "Our blades will grow rusty if not put to use soon. We've been sittin' here on our arses for a fortnight already." He finished, crossing his arms, not leaving room for argument.
"So then it is settled." Esbern put back the rest of his tankard and wiped the heady remains of the brew from his face with his sleeve before slamming the cup down on the table.
"Aye. Lets go huntin' for some wildlin's boys." The Acting Commander yelled to his troops.
The camp went up in cheers, weapons drawn into the air. As they started to move forward Kottir stopped their brother that was held captive by the Thalmor.
"Not you lad. Stay here with Othan, I'm sure he'd like a hand sharpenin' that table of steel and bangin' out the dents in the armor." The boy looked up at him disappointed. "An if not, then go get some rest. You deserve at least tha' much."
The boy turned and walked away with his head low and made straight for a tent to lie down.
"Ol' Timer." Kottir Red Shoal called to Esbern from across the camp. "Ya know how to use one o' these?" He asked picking up an Iron sword.
Esbern nodded. He knew how to use one but his was a lot lighter than what this one looked to be.
***
There were archers on the terrace high overhead. They were out in the open with no walls to hide behind and they were slow to nock their arrows when they reloaded. Two of the Stormcloaks drew bows from the rear and took out two of the three Forsworn that were trying to fend off the coming assault with a few well placed shots each. Another ran towards the Stormcloaks from her post at the main gate, axe held high as she charged screaming.
"It's a good day to die!" The savage yelled. Her axe came down and was blocked by Kottir's shield. He used her momentum against her and drove his sword through side. "You'll ne'er leave.. here.. alive." She coughed, blood filling her lungs.
He left her to die right there on the road. The single archer on the balcony overhead couldn't get a shot off at the attackers for they were too close to the wall of the keep. The Stormcloaks forced down the heavy door. Within the dimly lit entry of the keep there were tusks and animal bones and pelts scattered throughout. This was without a doubt home to many Forsworn tribesmen. Commander Kottir and his men charged up the stairs at the far end of the foyer yelling war cries. Two savages came from a door at the far end of the second level and entered the fray. They were cut down faster than they appeared leaving nothing but a bloody mess under the boots of Esbern, Kottir and the Stormcloaks who followed them. They came to a circular room within a circular hall. They must have entered a tower, Esbern figured. There were beds throughout the room. Not one of them was filled.
"We're looking for a sword. It's an ancient old blade and of no use to nobody." Esbern revealed to the lot. "Spread out and help me find it." He asked of the soldiers.
"What does it look like?" Kottir asked of him.
"Old. From around the same time as the Battle of Sancre Tor." The old man replied, looking around the room.
He spotted an old wooden chest along the wall between a pair of beds and walked over to it sword in hand. He smashed the lock with his hilt, breaking it open as the rusted piece of iron fell to the floor. Esbern rummaged through the contents and picked up a small sack of coin.
"Nothing useful but this." He said, tossing the small sack through the air at Kottir Red-Shoal.
"Aye, lets keep goin' then."
Kottir took the lead, Esbern next and the rest followed as they exited the room out the door ahead of them. They were outside again, this time on the terrace. Next to the door was a table with a few weapons and some rusted iron scraps that used to be armor. The shield that rested against the leg of the table looked like it might work well enough though. Esbern picked it up. It was good and solid, made of oak and iron.
"You don't scare me!" The last remaining archer screamed, drawing attention to herself before letting her arrow loose.
One of the soldiers caught the projectile in the forearm. Esbern rushed forward, sword drawn and shield up. The Savage let go another arrow before he got to her. Esbern blocked it with his shield and broke away the shaft with the flat of his sword. He feinted right as he got inside of her reach. She was still holding the bow and he blocked a blow with his sword aimed at the side of the head. He bashed the woman with the butt of his shield and put his shoulder into her, knocking her off of the high terrace. Her body rest over a wooden spike barricade, contorted and washing the ground below her in red. The men turned around and re-entered the keep. The made their way around the circular hall to their right and found a dark staircase that went higher to a third level of the tower. A rumbling came crashing down the stairs. Rocks. A boulder trap atop the stairs was let go.
"How many did we get?" One voice asked.
There was no reply.
One of the Stormcloaks was crushed to death and lay bloodied upon the stairs. Another put his back against the wall holding his leg. It had a gash in it that might cost him his limb.
"I'll go first." Esbern called as he went to make his way up the stairs.
"No. No, let me." The wounded soldier said. "I'll not likely keep the leg and what in Oblivion am I to do without it. A man needs two legs to live in Skyrim. This is Nord country and I ain't leavin'."
Esbern looked upon the wounded soldier with an empathetic nod.
"What's your name boy?" The old man asked of the soldier.
"Tommak." He replied as he made his way up the dark staircase.
"For Talos." Tommak yelled as he ran up the stairs as best he as he could manage.
His sword was drawn, his shield was up and the top of the stairs grew brighter with flame.
Esbern charged up the stairs, the others behind him. He raised his shield high to fend off any attacks as he made straight for the Shaman. He was casting a gout of flame at Tommik from the head of the staff in his hand. The boy's screams filled the small landing, his voice echoing off of the walls. Esbern charged shield raised and caught the shaman in the side breaking his focus and pinning him to the wall. He bashed him again and again with his shield until the caster had slumped to the floor beaten. The old Blade took his sword and with a spin he separated the savages head from his shoulders with the back edge of his sword. Tommik was dead. Burned to death but lying on top of the other Forsworn, his sword buried deep in his enemies bowels. Esbern and his allies opened the door at the top of the stair. It entered into a masters chamber room atop of the tower. Within was another shaman standing before a shrine of Dibella at the back wall. He turned his attention to the intruders.
"You will not leave here alive." He threatened.
The party charged forth weapons raised and with a sweep of his hand, three elemental runes appeared on the ground before the attackers. The men ran straight through them triggering their affects, save the two archers that held their distance near the door. Frost encased one pair as they became frozen in stride. A burst of fire exploded from another, setting one Stormcloak blazing across the room to end up dead against the chambers stone wall. Lightning crackled through the air. It's charge electrifying those caught in its path. Esbern was knocked out by the blast as he took the brunt of the force and ended up near the shrine of Dibella. Commander Kottir continued his charge as he swung his sword at the shaman. His sharpened blade cracking the bones that reinforced the Savages armor. The Shaman summoned a great Frost Atronach. It's size was comparable to a giant. It's brute strength was incredible. It's form was enormous and created of solid animated ice. It was a marvelous sight to see through the being. The archers took aim for the monster. It wasn't a hard target to hit, but the arrows did nothing but chip away at the ice. The monster ignored the arrows and attacked Commander Kottir, who posed the greatest threat to its master. Kottir dove between its wide legs as the Atronach brought down a blow from on high. The floor shook from the impact and bits of its icy flesh shattered to scatter across the floor.
"The Shaman. Take out it's summoner." Kottir yelled orders at his archers.
The archers focused their fire on the Shaman, each rounding the room to separate flanks. He took an arrow arm and torso with their first rounds. Kottir got to his feet behind the slow moving giant and hacked at the weak spot of the monsters elbow. Two quick blows and his arm fell to the floor. The archers fired another round each. One missing its target to lodge in the wall across the chamber. The other found the Shamans chest where the bone reinforcement in his armor had been broken away.
Kottir dodged another blow and smashed his sword against the Frost Atronach's shoulder. It lashed out at him swinging with his stub and one remaining arm. Kottir was knocked back against the wall by the brute as he took a blow to his side. Esbern attempted to get up, weak from the blast. The archers fired again. One bowstring broke as it was drawn and the other loosed his arrow only to hit the shaman in the knee. He fell on to all fours. Esbern pulled his meat pick from his belt and buried it in the back of the crippled shaman. The Monster melted away as the link between his life and his master were broken upon the Shaman's death.
Esbern looked up at the Shrine of Dibella. "That's the second time today you've saved me. Bless you."
He got up from against the shrine looked upon the stone lady before him. At her feet was an old and ancient blade.
"I believe someone is looking for this." He said, picking up the Hjalti's ancient blade from the statues alter and replacing it with his shield. "So I may better defend myself, my Lady and so You may always watch over me with a shielded hand."
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