Bleak Fall Barrow from afar is a spectacular vision of nordic architecture, peering out from the cradle of the mountain, through swirling clouds. On the approach I can tell it is not. In fact it felt quite desolate. The Grand staircase led up to the pyramidal arches proceeding along to the entrance of the Barrow. No sight of anything other than snow or stone.
I remember thinking crouched in the snow, if these bandits continue to perform the way they had I would have no problems. Even so I made the decision to try to sneak further up the slope and climb onto the barrow to gain a surprise advantage. Bow drawn I stepped out of cover.
Unfortunately not five paces from cover another female bandit spotted me from her higher perch near the entrance to the barrow. She called the alarm and drew an arrow from her back. I looked back hearing the rushed pounding of foot on stone to see two more bandits wrapped in the skins of the Arctic fauna weapons drawn. I deftly threw my bow over my shoulder grasping my sword. Once again I charged into battle, the Power cleave then parry to backhand swing proved most effective these Bandits were a joke.
A sharp pain and tug at the back of my right shoulder. The force nearly knocked me to the ground. Arrows littered the ground the female bandit was an appalling shot but she had found her form. Gathering as many of the arrows I could I ran for cover. She wasn't giving up her high advantage, arrows continued to ricochet off the masonry. I played chicken a few times, grabbing arrows whilst she fumbled shot after shot.
The pain throbbed in my shoulder, each time rippling memories of past battles awoke in my mind. I remembered in a flash using a simple healing spell to soothe knocks and pains. It had been so long could I remember the incantation? Positioning my hand I said the spell focusing on the words, on the energy flowing down my arm through my fingers. A faint glow of white, a flash and pop and nothing. I frown fisting and stretching my hand a few times and try again. The white glow building and suddenly that orb of pure white light of respite and relief. I could feel the pain easing and flesh knitting.
A couple of deep breathes, resetting my grip, I stormed the grand stairs, over the bridge and charged the remaining bandit. She was on me from the start of my charge, I shouldered an arrow ricocheting it off my armour. She nearly sidestepped my strike but I caught her, foolishly she tried to change weapons, I took my chance and thrust the blade through her midriff right to the hilt lifting her off her feet. I threw her to the ground.
After quickly looting the spoils of my sword I turned to the Barrow entrance. Inside was a huge hall with two large support columns in the centre. One side of the halls roof had collapsed inwards spilling a shaft of natural light across the hall and pillars. In the far corner I could see the orange glow of a torch on the grey stone.
As I moved forward, sword drawn, I spotted a dead bandit and skeever. So they didn't have this place to themselves. Whilst examining the corpses my ears finally attuned to the hall after the howl of the wind of outside. Was that a voice I just heard? Again, I quickly crouched down behind one of the pillars swapping to my bow.
Slowly creeping out I managed to get high enough on some rubble to spot the small camp in the corner with two bandits sat discussing how best to divide the spoils of the barrow. I hear mention of the claw. Does it hold some significance here? I plucked an arrow and slowly drew back my bow string it creaking as it reached its tension point. I targeted the male of the pair. Direct hit. He doesn't go down but I managed to get back into cover without them seeing me, they started to head my way. Switching back to my sword I sat coiled like a spring ready pounce.
The women appeared first, I filled the hall with my cry, charging out of the shadows. I'm swinging for my second hit before she knows what's happening. I sidestep her counter and send the pummel of my sword into her face. Her comrade clumsily lunged with the arrow in his back causing much inconvenience. My reply finished him off. Bizarrely rather than feeling drained and sapped of energy each strike of my sword seemed to rejuvenate me, spur me on, even swing harder and fiercer.
Heading down the stairs I noticed how old these ruins are. Vines hanging down covering a lot of what remains of the stone. Rubble strewn over the floor. The tombs carved into the very rock housing the blank skin shrunk tight over the skeletal remains of the occupant.
As I reached the bottom of another flight of stairs I spotted a lone bandit walking into a chamber ahead. Sneaking I moved closer, the chamber had a gated arch on the far side. Above two large nordic symbols on plaques, a third in rubble on the floor. To the left hand side three small pillars with the same symbols in a different order sat ensconced in alcoves. In the centre was a lever.
The bandit strolled up and pulled the lever instantly he was struck down by arrows. They appeared from multiple angles and the speed the chap dropped to the ground probably poisoned. I walked into the chamber and headed over to the pillars. Examining one closer it had three sides with a different nordic symbol on each. Snake, Hawk and Whale from what I could tell. Grabbing the pillar I realised that it could turn so that each symbol could face outwards. Looking back at the symbols over the gate the answer was plainly obvious.
The left symbol was a Snake, on the right the Whale and in between the two the rock seemed damaged. The Snake symbol on the floor suddenly made sense, it had fallen off from the middle position. I set about turning the small pillars. Snake, Snake and Whale. Returning to the Lever in the middle of the room I closed my eyes and pulled it back. Metal grating on rock. I looked at the gate as it slowly rose up into the ceiling.
Down further into more tunnels of tombs, Skeevers littered the floor and the way ahead was lit so I knew someone had been down this far. Entering another tunnel a strange sound got my attention. Leather creaking, the crack of knuckles and the exhale of air. Was something else down here? Dust started to tumble from a few tombs and the very corpses began to rise from their eternal slumber.
What magic was this? The risen warriors stumbled forward black eyed ancient blades glinting in the torch light. They were skilled foes and hard to kill. I took many blows and those potions I'd found came in extremely useful. After a lengthy exchange I continued on patting the dust of the undead from my gloves. I think I prefer blood.
The tunnels seemed to become more naturally formed, I started catching myself on webs, they were everywhere, to many even for such an old tomb. I rounded a bend and heard it
"HELP........HELP ME"
I upped my pace, the walls lined in webbing now I sped into a cavern, covered in thick webs. Cocooned relics of meals past hung from the ceiling.
"Help me please help me"
The dark elf was stuck high up on the far wall by webbing.
"I've come looking for the Golden Claw" I shouted back.
"I have it, but you will have to cut me down before I can reach it" He bargained.
I nodded and started across the cave
"LOOK OUT.... FROM ABOVE!!!!!!"
A massive Frost Spider slowly lowered down from its hiding spot. Touching down it faltered slightly limping and I spotted a feeler cautiously guarding a weeping eye. Wounded or not I drew my axe and shield and prepared for the biggest fight for my life in many decades.
Squeezing the wooden handle of the axe I unleashed my Battle cry and stormed forward.
Comments
Great work once again, it read a little odd though since the Draugr are only after the fellow in the web. No big issue though, after pla... more