I have mentioned that my mission includes surveying military ruins and caves. On the road into the mountains south of Falkreath, I found my first cave. This is where my job lines up nicely with my interests. I’m an amateur spelunker (not to mention botanist, naturalist, military history buff and archaeologist), so opportunities like this are a big part of why I signed on with IGCS.
I consulted my copy of “Joe’s Dungeon Guide,” but I found no reference to this particular cave, so I had no idea what to expect inside. I conjured up Old Rusty for company, lit up a torch and entered. Every cave is unique, so I would hate to call this one “typical”, but it was chilly, dark and drippy, so… typical. I was collecting specimens of fungus for identification, when I noticed light ahead.
A column of blue light rose from a rough cairn, and a pile of human corpses lay heaped at its base. This is exactly the sort of thing the IGCS would like to catalog, so I crept closer and investigated. I found a campsite laid out around the cairn as though the three had been there a while before they died. No wounds were visible on the bodies. Then I struck gold—a journal! It was fascinating reading. I had to look up the word, draugr, in my Skyrim phrase book. It basically meant zombie or wight. The hairs went up on the back of my neck, but the author said there weren’t any here, so I kept reading. The writer described how the three of them took shelter in the cave, and the other two gradually fell under some kind of spell, eventually sacrificing themselves on the cairn to strengthen the spirit of the mage, Halldir, whose true burial chambers were deeper inside the cave. Eventually the writer himself also succumbed. By the Gods! Do you realize what this means?
I’ve found the resting place of Halldir the Hypnotist, famous for his travelling magic shows in which he would—just for example—mesmerize two people into believing they were fighting cocks and then set them dueling to the death using nothing but their “claws” and their “beaks.” The winner would come to his senses and be granted a unique enchanted item as a prize. People would flock to his shows despite the chance (some said because of it) that you might be the night’s victim. Halldir was finally driven out of Cyrodiil in 4E20 and never heard from again. I’ve got to get back to civilization so I can publish this! In fact, I’ll publish twice, once in the professional journals and once in my memoirs!
Eagerly I set to finding the path deeper into the cave. Soon I found a spiral staircase that led me into an embalmer’s workshop, lit by candles. The lit candles should have been a warning, but I was too excited to notice. I collected artifacts—an ancient embalmer’s tool, some linen wrappings, some ancient gold coins in a burial urn, an old book, nearly crumbling away—great stuff! I was so excited, it didn’t occur to me to watch for danger until Rusty snarled and bolted down the dark passage way. I heard whispering voices all around me. That’s when my torch went out.
Ghosts! By Julianos! I took off running and didn’t stop until I was in daylight. Rusty emerged at my heels. Rusty never abandons a fight until he’s won. Looks like he’s pretty handy against ghosts. Hmmm. Well, I couldn’t NOT explore Haldir’s Cairn, so I went back in with Rusty by my side.
Rusty took out several more ghosts with no trouble, but then we saw our first draugr. The ancient nord embalmers knew their business, so this fellow had all his limbs, and no particular odor or oozing. At least we won’t have to worry about catching any foul rots from these guys.
For once, I saw him before he saw me. Rusty stood by my side like a pointer on a duck. I guess it’s good that Rusty waits until something is actively threatening us—he’s learned restraint since he died. I realized I had to point out the enemy to him.
I dipped an arrow, nocked it, slowly drew back my bow, and then shot… The arrow lodged right through Rusty’s head. I sort of broke down. I tried to hug him in frantic but silent apology. He just looked at me with this sort of long-suffering expression. I led him away down the corridor a safe distance and reconjured him without the arrow. Even then, I cried and begged him for his forgiveness. It was too much like what had happened when he... when I… I’m not ready to talk about that.
Kill the Draugr, Take 2: I shot him once with a poisoned arrow, and he became vaguely aware that he was under attack. That was enough for Rusty to run forward and for me to duck back into the darkness. “Let this be a lesson to you,” I told the ancient nord zombie as it fell to the fangs of my spectral hound. “Dead is dead!” The draugr was carrying this gorgeous ornate great sword. It was a work of art, as well as an awesome weapon. Oh, I fell in love with it immediately. I drew out the great sword I had taken from Sinding’s grotto. It was of modern design, straight blade, somewhat lighter than this ancient weapon—but the draugr’s blade was such a living piece of history, I could not resist. I dropped my modern blade on the draugr and put the ancient one in its place on my back. Wait ‘til the guys back home see this!
Thereafter, I encountered several more draugr, but in each case, I was able to strike them down with the ancient sword almost before they awakened. My confidence grew. Deeper into the cavern, I found a nord puzzle lock. I’ve of course heard of them, but this is the first I have seen. I drew a diagram in my journal and then began twisting columns to correspond with the symbols on the walls. With a grinding of stone against stone, a hidden gateway opened up into Halldir’s throne room. Oh great Julianos, I thought as I entered; I’m going to be famous! I didn’t count on Halldir being home.
I have no idea how I survived that battle. I remember every time I thought he was dead, he’d appear someplace else in the room. I remember the thought that perhaps I had been hypnotized for a show, and I was really battling some other poor traveler. Or perhaps there was no one at all, and I would spend eternity battling nonexistent enemies. Maybe I’d end up like those ghosts I’d encountered earlier, Halldir’s eternal slave. Maybe my body was already lying on top of the cairn in the entrance to the cave and all the rest of this was mere fantasy…
Then he was gone, his body reduced to an alchemical residue, and his staff lying nearby. Halldir’s own staff—his object of power over his victims—that was my prize for fighting and prevailing in his arena. Sweet Julianos in the morning, I love Skyrim!
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