If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
Scattered across the cracked stone floor near the entrance were several dead, bloated bodies of massive skeevers, likely killed by the bandits who had claimed the upper levels. Aerion drew his steel sword once more, his golden eyes adjusting to the gloom. The real dungeon had just begun.
As they stepped deeper into the antechamber, the freezing, howling wind of the mountain was instantly cut off, replaced by a profound, suffocating stillness.
Jenassa walked a few paces ahead, her crimson eyes sweeping the shadowed alcoves. Suddenly, she wrinkled her nose in profound disgust, her hand instinctively coming up to shield her face.
"By the Reclamations, the stench in here is abhorrent," the Dark Elf muttered, her gravelly voice echoing faintly off the curved stone ceiling. "I have waded through battlefields that smelled sweeter than this. I like the sharp, honest smell of fresh blood, Patron. This... this is the smell of ancient rot and stagnant dampness. It coats the back of the throat."
Aerion, walking softly behind her, couldn't help but silently agree. He was also actively fighting the urge to cover his nose. It was a smell that was incredibly hard to describe to someone who had never experienced it.
It didn't just smell like an unwashed animal or a damp cellar, it carried the distinct, sickly sweet undertone of decaying corpses mixed with ozone and centuries of undisturbed dust.
The worst part was that the smell wasn't overwhelmingly strong all the time, it would fade into a dull musk, allowing them to lower their guard, only to suddenly waft back with a nauseating intensity, making it absolutely impossible to build any sort of olfactory resistance to it.
The scattering of dead, bloated skeevers lying on the cracked flagstones certainly didn't help the ambiance.
The three of them, Aerion, Jenassa, and Lupin, walked slowly and deliberately, prioritizing caution over speed. They navigated past the giant rat carcasses and several withered, mummified bodies of Draugr that had clearly been killed recently by the bandit vanguard.
Ancient, rusted Nord swords, heavy iron battleaxes, and splintered wooden iron shields clattered around the bodies, discarded by the looters who clearly preferred modern steel over ancient relics.
As they walked down a wide, descending corridor illuminated by flickering torchlight, Aerion's enhanced elven hearing picked up a sound that didn't belong in a tomb. It was the faint, echoing murmur of human conversation, accompanied by the occasional crackle of burning wood.
Aerion immediately raised his left hand, clenching it into a fist to signal a halt. Jenassa froze instantly, her hand dropping to the hilt of her dagger.
Aerion crouched low, his dark robes blending seamlessly into the shadows of the corridor. He approached stealthily, moving with a silent, fluid grace that felt entirely unnatural to his human mind, but perfectly instinctual to his Altmer vessel.
He slipped behind a raised stone foundation that held a massive, crumbling ancient Nordic stone table, using the thick slab of rock as flawless cover. Lupin, sensing the shift in his master's demeanor, mimicked the movement perfectly, flattening his belly against the cold stone floor and creeping silently beside Aerion.
As Aerion settled into the shadows, focusing on masking his breathing and his presence, the system recognized his successful application of stealth mechanics in a hostile environment.
[Sneak Leveled Up to 17!]
[Sneak Leveled Up to 18!]
[Sneak Leveled Up to 19!]
[Sneak Leveled Up to 20!]
[Sneak Leveled Up to 21!]
Across the hallway, Jenassa executed a similarly flawless stealth maneuver, slipping silently behind a huge, load-bearing stone pillar to the left. Her position put her slightly ahead of Aerion and much closer to the source of the voices.
Peering carefully around the edge of the ancient stone table, Aerion took in the scene below. Set in a slightly sunken chamber was a fully established bandit camp. There were five bandits in total lounging around a roaring campfire pit. Four of them were Nords, two men and two women, clad in mismatched furs and iron armor, sitting on overturned crates and wooden stools.
The fifth member of the group, standing near the fire and gesturing animatedly with his hands, was a Dark Elf clad in light leather armor.
Aerion strained his ears, focusing on the conversation echoing off the stone walls.
"I am telling you, we need to rest and recuperate before we push any deeper," the Dark Elf argued, his voice carrying a sharp, arrogant cadence. "I am the one who figured out how to crack the puzzle on that lever door, aren't I? Without me, you brainless brutes would have been turned into pincushions by the poison dart trap."
"Watch your tongue, Arvel," one of the Nord women growled, sharpening a steel dagger on a whetstone. "You're lucky we didn't leave you to freeze outside the barrow. We cleared the Draugr for you."
Aerion's eyes narrowed slightly in the dark. Arvel. It was Arvel the Swift. The infamous thief from the game who was destined to steal the Golden Claw from the Riverwood Trader.
Aerion listened intently to the rest of the conversation, mentally cross referencing their dialogue with his game knowledge. Arvel and his crew were talking about managing to clear the resting Draugr in the upper levels up until the room with the puzzled lever door.
Arvel was demanding they rest because he suspected there were far worse monsters deeper in the crypt, specifically mentioning the massive Frostbite Spiders, swarms of skeevers, and heavier, armored Draugr.
A cold smile touched Aerion's lips. Arvel was talking about the lever puzzle, not the Nordic puzzle door that required the claw.
That meant Arvel hadn't even reached the deepest parts of the barrow yet, and he was completely unaware that the Golden Claw existed, let alone that it was the key to the main sanctum. Aerion had beaten him to the prize entirely.
Staying perfectly still and observing the oblivious targets caused his system to reward him once more for maintaining absolute undetected stealth.
[Sneak Leveled Up to 22!]
[Sneak Leveled Up to 23!]
[Sneak Leveled Up to 24!]
[Sneak Leveled Up to 25!]
[Sneak Leveled Up to 26!]
Aerion caught Jenassa's eye across the dim chamber. He gave her a sharp, decisive nod, signaling that the time for observation was over. They needed to clear the camp.
Jenassa acknowledged the order with a slight tilt of her head. She smoothly drew her hunting bow, nocking an iron arrow in absolute silence.
Aerion reached down to his belt and quietly unbuckled his standard steel sword, sliding it back into his spatial inventory to free both of his hands. He didn't want to duel in close quarters, he wanted to end this instantly.
He raised his palms, calling upon the volatile, destructive elements of Nirn, and dual casted his magic to maximum capacity.
THWIP!
Jenassa's bowstring snapped, the sound sharp as a whip crack. The iron arrow sailed through the air and buried itself deep into the throat of the Nord woman sitting by the fire. She collapsed instantly, her whetstone clattering loudly against the stone floor.
"Ambush!" one of the Nord men screamed, kicking his stool away and scrambling for his battleaxe.
They didn't stand a chance. Aerion stepped out from behind the stone table like an avatar of elemental wrath. From his right hand, a massive, superheated fireball screamed across the room. From his left, a blinding, jagged bolt of violet lightning tore through the air.
Arvel the Swift, the arrogant thief who thought himself the smartest man in the crypt, barely had time to turn his head and widen his red eyes in terror. Aerion's dual cast magic slammed into the Dark Elf simultaneously.
The fireball detonated against Arvel's leather armor, throwing him violently backward against the stone wall, while the lightning bolt instantly stopped his heart.
The remaining three Nords, disoriented by the explosion and blinded by the flash of magic, were easy prey. Jenassa fired two more arrows in rapid succession, pinning a charging Nord to the floor, before drawing her steel sword and rushing in to execute the final, panicked bandit with a clean decapitation.
The ambush was over in seconds.
[Destruction (Fire) Leveled Up to 47!]
[Destruction (Fire) Leveled Up to 48!]
[Destruction (Fire) Leveled Up to 49!]
[Destruction (Fire) Leveled Up to 50!]
[Destruction (Lightning) Leveled Up to 45!]
[Destruction (Lightning) Leveled Up to 46!]
[Destruction (Lightning) Leveled Up to 47!]
[Destruction (Lightning) Leveled Up to 48!]
Aerion lowered his hands, letting the residual heat bleed from his palms as the system notifications faded. He walked calmly down the stone steps into the campsite, his boots crunching on the soot and ash.
"Clean work, Jenassa," Aerion praised, looking over the carnage. "Loot the Nords. Keep whatever coin and valuables you find on them, consider it hazard pay."
"You are a generous Patron," Jenassa smirked, already kneeling beside the decapitated Nord to search his pouches.
Aerion walked over to the charred, smoking corpse of Arvel the Swift. He knelt down, unbothered by the smell of burnt hair and leather, and methodically searched the thief. He found a moderately heavy coin purse containing exactly 65 septims, and a tarnished iron ring set with a small, unpolished garnet.
Tucked safely inside an inner pocket of Arvel's charred leather tunic, Aerion found a small, leather bound journal. He flipped it open.
The pages were filled with Arvel's arrogant, rambling thoughts about his plans to manipulate the bandit crew into doing all the heavy lifting, but unlike in the game, there were absolutely no entries mentioning the Golden Claw. Arvel simply hadn't discovered the lore yet.
Aerion also found a pristine crow feather and a small, corked glass inkwell tucked in the thief's satchel. A sudden, brilliant thought struck Aerion.
When they eventually reached the Word Wall at the end of the crypt, having writing utensils would be invaluable. He wanted to study and actively write down the Dragon Language, hypothesizing that manually transcribing the runes might unlock the Shout without needing a dragon soul, or at the very least, provide an immense boost to his understanding of the magic.
He tucked the journal, the feather, and the inkwell safely into his spatial inventory for later preparation.
Next, Aerion moved to a heavy wooden chest sitting near the campfire. He kicked the latch open. Inside, he found a loose pile of 76 septims, a pair of heavy iron gauntlets, and a beautifully crafted Steel Sword that radiated a faint, freezing mist.
Aerion smiled, picking up the blade. It was enchanted. He took a few practice swings, feeling the unnatural chill of the steel. It was a massive upgrade over his standard weaponry. He immediately equipped the Steel Sword of Frost, securing the scabbard to his hip.
He picked up the iron gauntlets and tossed them to Jenassa. "Here. Put these on."
Jenassa caught the heavy metal gloves, her nose wrinkling slightly. "Heavy armor, Patron? I am a skirmisher. Leather and mobility are my lifeblood. These will only slow my draw speed."
"You are wearing simple leather bracers," Aerion pointed out reasonably. "If a Draugr gets a lucky swing with an ancient battleaxe, your leather will not save your forearms from being shattered. Wear them for now. The extra protection is worth the slight reduction in speed while we navigate the close quarters of this crypt."
Jenassa sighed, knowing he was right, and reluctantly strapped the heavy iron gauntlets over her leather sleeves.
With the camp cleared and looted, Aerion manifested the heavy canvas supply bag from his inventory. "Let us take a brief respite. We do not know when we will find another secure room."
They sat on the wooden stools by the fire, partaking in a quick meal of roasted meat and fresh bread. Lupin, ever the opportunist, happily devoured a large chunk of venison before Aerion tossed him a sweet roll, which the fox dismantled with sticky, enthusiastic precision.
Once they had eaten and Aerion had safely stored the bag away again, they resumed their journey deeper into the massive crypt.
Aerion took the lead, his Frost Sword drawn. They moved cautiously, but not with the absolute, creeping paranoia they had exhibited earlier. They knew from Arvel's overheard conversation that this specific upper section of the barrow had already been violently cleared by the bandit crew.
As they journeyed deeper, the architecture of the crypt became increasingly oppressive and ancient. The wide hallways were thickly carpeted in slick, glowing green moss.
Massive, rusted iron braziers and ancient wall sconces were actually lit, casting dancing, eerie shadows against the run down stone walls, a clear sign that the bandits, or perhaps the Draugr themselves, actively maintained the tomb.
Thick, pale tree roots had burst through the ceiling masonry over the centuries, hanging down like the tentacles of some massive, subterranean beast.
They passed countless dead bodies of Draugr and skeevers, left to rot by Arvel's crew. Lining the walls of the burial alcoves were dozens of small, clay burial urns. Aerion, influenced by years of gaming habits, stopped to check several of them, expecting to find loose septims or minor potions.
But reality was far less rewarding, he found nothing inside the urns but centuries old, compacted bone ash. He quickly abandoned the effort, refusing to waste time disturbing the dead for literal dust.
They continued their descent through the winding, echoing halls until they finally emerged into a room that Aerion recognized instantly.
It was the first puzzle room.
The chamber was large and rectangular. In the dead center of the room stood a heavy iron lever, jutting up from a stone mechanism. Lying broken on the floor right beside the lever was a massive, carved stone tablet depicting a coiled snake.
To the left side of the room, set into alcoves in the wall, were three massive, rotating triangular stone pillars.
To the right side of the room, a set of crumbling stone stairs led up to a raised viewing platform overlooking the chamber. Set into the wall above the stairs were three large stone plaques. The left plaque displayed a carved Snake. The middle plaque was completely broken and empty. The right plaque displayed a carved Whale.
Jenassa, seeing the heavy iron lever and the thick metal portcullis blocking their path forward, immediately marched toward the center of the room. "Finally, a way forward," she muttered, reaching out to grab the iron handle.
"Stop!" Aerion commanded sharply, his voice cracking like a whip. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. "Do not be so brash, Jenassa."
Jenassa paused, looking at him with a mixture of annoyance and confusion. "It is just a lever, Patron. It opens the gate."
"These ancient Nordic crypts are designed to protect their dead, not welcome visitors," Aerion explained, releasing her wrist and gesturing to the walls. "They are invariably filled with lethal traps to punish the ignorant. Pulling that lever without solving the corresponding puzzle will likely trigger a barrage of poisoned darts, or drop a spiked ceiling on our heads."
Jenassa looked around the room, a newfound caution settling over her. She pulled her hand away from the lever. "A puzzle, then. So what should we do? Is it connected to those three rotating pillars over there?"
"Exactly," Aerion nodded, walking toward the center of the room. He pointed up toward the raised platform on the right. "Look at the plaques above the stairs. They are the key. The first is a Snake. The second is broken, but look at the rubble on the floor right here by the lever, it is the matching piece, another Snake. And the third plaque on the far right is a Whale."
He turned to Jenassa. "Go to the pillar on the far right. Rotate it until the image of the Whale faces the center of the room."
Jenassa didn't argue. She walked over to the heavy stone pillar and pushed against the carved rock. With a loud, grinding scrape of stone on stone, the pillar rotated until the image of a Whale locked into place.
Aerion walked over to the left and middle pillars. He pushed against the heavy stone, the ancient mechanisms groaning under his strength, rotating both of them until the image of the Snake faced outward.
Snake. Snake. Whale.
"Alright," Aerion said, stepping back into the center of the room. He took a deep breath, firmly grasped the iron handle of the lever, and pulled it backward.
There was a tense, agonizing second of silence, followed by a loud, mechanical clack echoing from beneath the floorboards. Then, the heavy iron portcullis slowly ground upward, retracting into the ceiling and opening the path forward without firing a single poison dart.
Jenassa let out a low whistle of appreciation. "You certainly know your history, Patron."
They walked through the newly opened gate, stepping into a small, relatively intact antechamber. To their right sat a massive stone table, littered with dusty, rotting books and completely destroyed parchment scrolls that crumbled at the slightest touch.
To the left, tucked neatly into a corner, was a heavy wooden chest. Resting directly beside the chest on a small iron candle stand was a Petty Soul Gem, glowing with a faint, beautiful pink light.
"Listen to me carefully, Jenassa," Aerion warned, his golden eyes sweeping the dark, descending staircase to the left of them. "The bandits stopped at that lever. Arvel's crew never made it past that gate."
Jenassa drew her bow, her posture instantly tightening. "Meaning?"
"Meaning that from this point forward, the path has not been cleared," Aerion stated grimly, stepping into the darkness. "We are in the true crypt now. Be ready for anything."
Jenassa gave a firm, reassuring nod of her head, her crimson eyes scanning the dim corners of the antechamber. "You focus on the magic and the path ahead, Patron," she said, her voice dropping to a low, gravelly whisper. "I will watch our flanks and ensure nothing creeps up behind us. We will all make it out of this crypt safe and sound."
Aerion nodded his head at her vow, deeply appreciating the professional competence of his hired blade. Satisfied that their perimeter was secure for the moment, he turned his attention back to the massive stone table dominating the right side of the room.
He stepped over the scattered, ruined scrolls and reached out, placing his bare hand firmly on the cover of a well preserved book resting near the edge. The faded, embossed letters on the leather cover spelled out a single word: Thief.
He stepped over the scattered, ruined scrolls and reached out, placing his bare hand firmly on the cover of a well preserved book resting near the edge. The faded, embossed letters on the leather cover spelled out a single word: Thief.
The moment his skin made contact with the ancient binding, a familiar blue interface window flared to life in the center of his vision.
[Skill Book Detected: Thief]
[Would you like to absorb the residual experience contained within this tome? YES / NO]
Aerion mentally selected YES without a second thought.
Instantly, the book glowed with a faint, ethereal white light that flowed directly up his arm and into his chest. A sudden, illicit rush of knowledge flooded his mind, the precise angle required to slip a hand into a noble's pocket unnoticed, the subtle shifting of weight to distract a mark, and the delicate finger movements needed to sever a coin purse without tugging the leather.
[Skill Unlocked: Pickpocket - Level 1]
Description: What is yours is mine, and what is mine is also mine. Governs the highly misunderstood art of aggressively borrowing items from people's pockets without the tedious, bureaucratic formality of asking. (Warning: Side effects may include sudden, unwarranted hostility from city guards, spontaneous jail time, and an overwhelming urge to steal the pants off entirely oblivious bandits.)
Aerion had to bite the inside of his cheek to suppress a genuine laugh at the system's characteristically goofy, sarcastic description. But the influx of knowledge didn't stop at level one. The accumulated, master level experience housed within the ancient pages pushed his newly acquired skill exponentially higher in mere seconds.
[Pickpocket Leveled Up to 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8!]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 60!]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 61!]
The sheer volume of raw experience drawn from the skill book pushed his overall character level up twice in rapid succession. A warm, golden energy surged through his Altmer vessel, completely eradicating the lingering fatigue of their long journey up the mountain. He mentally pulled up his status panel, noting that he now possessed a total of four unspent Attribute Points.
Deciding to fortify his survival capabilities and his magical artillery, Aerion quickly allocated the points. He placed 2 points into his Health and 2 points into his Magicka.
The changes were instantaneous. His body felt marginally hardier, his skin knitting tighter over his muscles, while the vast, crackling reservoir of arcane energy in his mind expanded even further, granting him a deeper well to draw from in prolonged engagements.
[Health increased by 20! Current Health: 310/310]
[Magicka increased by 20! Current Magicka: 440/440]
With his attributes solidified, Aerion picked up the physical book and stored it within his spatial inventory, feeling the slight 0.10 KG increase in his mental weight limit. He then reached over to the small iron candle stand and collected the faintly glowing Petty Soul Gem, tucking it away as well, adding another 0.10 KG.
Finally, he turned his attention to the heavy wooden chest tucked in the corner. He threw open the rusted iron latch. Inside, resting atop a pile of ruined, moldy linens, was a medium sized leather pouch that clinked heavily when he picked it up.
A quick system scan revealed it held exactly 247 septims, which he happily absorbed. Beside the coin pouch lay three rolled up magic scrolls, thick with centuries of dust. Brushing them off, he identified them as spells of fireball, summoning wolves, and healing spells. He stored them away, adding 0.10 KG to his load.
Tucked beneath the scrolls was a finely crafted steel dagger. It wasn't standard bandit loot, the blade was etched with faint, glowing purple runes that hummed with latent enchanting magic.
[Item Acquired: Steel Dagger of Minor Souls]
Enchantment: If target dies within 3 seconds, fills a soul gem.
Aerion smiled, slipping the enchanted weapon into his inventory. The 0.35 KG weight was a negligible price for a tool that would allow him to effortlessly harvest souls to fuel his future enchanting endeavors. The rest of the chest's contents consisted of non valuable torn books, ruined papers, and rotting wooden bowls, which he completely ignored.
"The room is stripped," Aerion announced, turning back to Jenassa. He drew his Frost Sword, the blade emitting a faint, chilling mist in the damp air. "Jenassa, take the vanguard. Keep your sword and dagger drawn. Stow the bow for now, the quarters ahead are too tight for effective archery, and we are likely to encounter swarms rather than single targets."
"Understood," Jenassa replied, smoothly sliding her bow over her shoulder and drawing her steel sword and iron dagger.
They approached the back of the antechamber, where a narrow, incredibly steep spiral wooden staircase led deeper into the bowels of the mountain. The ancient wood groaned and creaked ominously under their weight, the sound echoing down into the pitch black darkness below.
As they descended, a chorus of high pitched, frantic skittering sounds drifted up from the shadows. It was the unmistakable, horrifying sound of dozens of sharp claws scraping frantically against stone.
"Skeevers," Jenassa spat in disgust, her grip tightening on her hilts. "A whole nest of the overgrown rats."
As they reached the bottom of the spiral stairs, stepping off the rotting wood onto solid stone, the darkness ahead suddenly erupted with movement. More than seven massive, bloated skeevers, each the size of a large dog with diseased, patchy fur and glowing red eyes, surged out from the shadows. They charged with mindless, feral aggression, their yellowed incisors gnashing wildly.
Jenassa didn't flinch. She met the vanguard of the swarm head on. With a brutal, sweeping arc of her steel sword, she cleaved the first skeever entirely in half, side stepping to drive her dagger through the skull of the second. She moved with ruthless, economic precision, keeping the front three entirely occupied and dying.
Aerion, standing just behind her on the bottom step, took care of the rear echelon. He raised his left hand, bypassing the subtlety of fire for the instantaneous, chaining devastation of electricity.
Jagged arcs of blinding violet lightning snapped from his fingertips, arcing over Jenassa's shoulder. The electrical current struck the fourth skeever and violently chained to the fifth, sixth, and seventh. The smell of burnt fur and ozone flooded the corridor as the four giant rats convulsed and died instantly, their nervous systems completely fried.
[Destruction (Lightning) Leveled Up to 49... 50... 51... 52!]
"Disgusting creatures," Jenassa muttered, wiping rat blood off her boot as she stepped over the twitching carcasses.
"But easily dispatched," Aerion noted, dismissing the lightning.
They pressed forward, stepping through a crumbling archway into a section of the crypt that was noticeably older and far more decrepit than the upper levels.
The air here was incredibly dusty, thick with hanging, rope like cobwebs that brushed unpleasantly against their faces. Massive, pale tree roots had completely broken through the stone ceiling, wrapping around the pillars like giant, petrified snakes.
Unlike the rooms above, which had been lit by Arvel's bandit crew, this corridor was steeped in absolute, oppressive darkness. The ancient iron wall sconces and towering floor braziers were cold and unlit.
Aerion raised his right hand, conjuring a small, controlled flame. As they walked slowly down the hall, he methodically touched the fire to every brazier and sconce they passed, bringing the ancient crypt back to life with flickering, dancing orange light, pushing back the oppressive shadows.
In the middle of the next small chamber, they found another ancient stone table. It was covered in burnt, time worn books that crumbled into ash at the slightest touch, and strips of ancient linen wraps. However, resting carefully amidst the ruin was a perfectly preserved Scroll of Fireball, and a small, delicate glass bottle filled with a viscous, glowing green liquid.
Aerion picked up the items. The system identified the bottle as a Weak Potion of Paralysis. He gladly stored both the scroll and the poison in his inventory, increasing his weight by a mere 0.20 KG.
As Aerion gathered the loot, Jenassa was busy scanning the corners of the room, using her sword to chop away the incredibly thick, sticky curtains of webbing that seemed to coat every surface.
"Patron," Jenassa warned, her gravelly voice tight with unease. "Skeevers do not spin webs. The sheer amount of silk down here... we are walking into the hunting grounds of Frostbite Spiders. And judging by the thickness of these strands, they are not small ones."
Aerion, remembering the exact layout of this dungeon and the horrific, eight legged monstrosity that served as the miniboss of this section, nodded his head in grim agreement. "Keep your eyes on the ceiling, Jenassa. They prefer to drop from above."
They continued their journey down the winding hallway, Aerion continuing to light the torches to deny the predators the advantage of darkness. Soon, the path ahead was completely blocked by a massive cave in of solid rock and dirt.
They were forced to turn left, entering a wide corridor that split into two separate entrances leading into the next main chamber.
The entrance on the left was entirely impassable, choked off by a massive, tangled wall of petrified tree roots. The entrance on the right, however, was blocked by something far more sinister, a solid, opaque wall of impossibly thick, layered spider silk, stretching from floor to ceiling like a macabre curtain.
Aerion stopped, holding his hand out to halt Jenassa.
"Prepare yourself," Aerion warned softly, his golden eyes fixed on the thick webbing. "There is going to be a massive matriarch behind this wall, and undoubtedly a swarm of her smaller children. Do not let them surround you. Their venom will paralyze your muscles and rot your flesh."
Jenassa let out a slow, steadying breath, brandishing her steel sword and dagger. Her crimson eyes locked onto the webbing. "I am ready. Burn it down."
Aerion stepped forward, raising his hands. He unleashed a concentrated torrent of fire directly into the center of the web barrier. The highly flammable silk ignited instantly, burning away in a rapid, brilliant flash of orange and hissing smoke, revealing the nightmare within.
They stepped through the smoking archway into the lair.
It was a massive, cavernous room, far larger and more expansive than it had appeared on a computer screen. The stone floor was completely obscured by undulating layers of white webbing.
Dozens of massive, pulsing egg sacs hung from the walls and ceiling, looking like morbid, fleshy grapes. High above them, the stone ceiling had completely caved in, creating a jagged hole that allowed a single, thick shaft of freezing mountain sunlight to pierce the gloom, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air.
As soon as they entered, the room came alive.
From behind the egg sacs and out of the shadowed corners, over a dozen "small" Frostbite Spiders, each the size of a large wolf, scuttled rapidly across the floor. Their mandibles clattered aggressively, their multiple black eyes reflecting the torchlight.
But the true horror came from above.
A sickening, wet tearing sound echoed from the hole in the ceiling. Descending rapidly on a massive, thick thread of silk was the Giant Frostbite Spider. It was an absolute monstrosity, easily the size of a horse carriage, covered in thick, bristling black hairs. Venom dripped continuously from its massive, razor sharp fangs, sizzling as it hit the stone floor.
Lupin took one look at the towering arachnid, let out a terrified squeak, and immediately bolted behind the safest piece of cover he could find, a large pile of rubble near the entrance, tucking his bushy tail tightly around his nose.
"Vex take this entire cursed province!" Jenassa cursed violently in Dunmeris, her eyes wide as the swarm descended.
"Hold the line!" Aerion roared over the chittering chaos.
Aerion became a conduit of pure, unadulterated elemental fury. He didn't bother drawing his sword; he conjured roaring, swirling spheres of fire in both of his hands, stepping forward to draw the aggro of the swarm.
The smaller spiders lunged first, launching themselves through the air with terrifying speed. Aerion unleashed a continuous, sweeping wall of fire. The intense, magical heat caught the leaping arachnids mid air.
Their bristling hairs ignited instantly, their chitinous shells popping and cracking under the extreme temperature. Three of them hit the ground as burning, thrashing husks, filling the room with the sickening smell of roasted insect meat.
Jenassa, moving with the desperate, lethal agility of a cornered predator, dove to the side to avoid a spray of acidic venom from a flanking spider.
She rolled to her feet, bringing her steel sword up in a brutal, two handed grip, and drove the blade directly through the cluster of black eyes of the attacking beast. She ripped the sword free, instantly pivoting to bury her dagger to the hilt in the abdomen of another spider attempting to bite her thigh.
The Giant Frostbite Spider hit the ground with a heavy, earth shaking thud. It reared up on its massive hind legs, letting out an ear piercing, hissing screech, before lunging directly toward Aerion.
The matriarch was terrifyingly fast for its size. Aerion barely managed to throw himself backward, sliding across the slick webbing as the giant spider's massive fangs slammed into the stone where he had just been standing, carving deep gouges into the rock.
The beast reared back up, its mandibles working furiously, and spat a massive, concentrated glob of paralyzing venom directly at him.
Aerion rolled violently to the right, the venom splashing against a stone pillar and immediately beginning to dissolve the ancient rock with a loud hiss. As he came up to one knee, he unleashed a dual cast fireball directly into the beast's underbelly.
The explosion rocked the cavern. The Giant Spider shrieked in agony as the magical fire scorched its sensitive abdomen, but the beast was incredibly resilient. It charged again, its massive, hairy legs thrashing wildly.
[Destruction (Fire) Leveled Up to 51... 52... 53... 54... 55!]
"Jenassa, clear the small ones!" Aerion shouted, continuously backing away and maintaining a relentless, suppressive barrage of fire to keep the giant matriarch at bay.
Jenassa was currently engaged in a desperate, spinning melee with four of the smaller spiders. One of them managed to slip past her guard, its fangs grazing the exposed leather of her upper arm.
She hissed in pain as the venom burned, but her adrenaline pushed her through it. She severed the offending spider's leg with a brutal hack of her sword, then drove her iron dagger straight up into its venom sac.
Aerion focused entirely on the matriarch. He realized that chipping away at its thick chitin with continuous streams of fire was taking too long, and he was running out of room to retreat. He needed a massive, concentrated burst of damage.
He planted his boots firmly on the ground, ignoring the beast rushing toward him. He drew deeply from his massive Magicka pool, channeling an immense amount of energy into both of his palms.
He compressed the fire, the heat becoming so intense it warped the air around his hands into a shimmering mirage.
Just as the Giant Spider reared back to deliver a fatal, crushing bite, Aerion thrust both hands forward and unleashed his fully charged, dual cast Fireball directly into the beast's open, slavering maw.
The blast was utterly devastating. The superheated fire exploded violently inside the creature's mouth, blowing its massive mandibles apart and instantly boiling the venom in its sacs.
The Giant Frostbite Spider let out a final, gurgling screech of agony before its massive body collapsed forward, crashing heavily to the stone floor in a twitching, smoking heap.
[Destruction (Fire) Leveled Up to 56... 57... 58... 59... 60... 61... 62!]
With the matriarch dead, the remaining two small spiders lost their aggressive coordination. Jenassa swiftly dispatched them, her steel sword cutting through their chitin with brutal efficiency.
Silence rushed back into the cavern, broken only by the crackle of burning webs and the heavy, ragged breathing of the two warriors.
Aerion stood amidst the carnage, letting the residual heat bleed from his palms. Thanks to his constant maneuvering and magical suppression, he was entirely unharmed, not a single scratch on his fine robes.
Jenassa, however, was worse for wear. She leaned heavily against a stone pillar, clutching her left arm. The spider's glancing bite had torn through the leather, and the skin around the puncture wounds was already turning a sickly, inflamed purple as the venom began to act. She also had several bleeding scratches across her ribs where the smaller spiders' legs had caught her.
"Stay still, Jenassa," Aerion ordered, quickly closing the distance between them.
He didn't wait for her permission. He reached out with both hands, channeling his high-level Restoration magic. A brilliant, soothing golden light poured from his palms, enveloping her injured arm and ribs.
Jenassa gasped as the intense, burning pain of the venom was instantly neutralized. The sickly purple hue faded from her skin as the magical energy aggressively purged the poison from her bloodstream and rapidly knitted her torn flesh back together. Within seconds, her injuries were completely erased, leaving only torn leather behind.
[Restoration (Healing) Leveled Up to 24... 25... 26... 27... 28!]
"I have never felt healing magic act that quickly," Jenassa breathed, flexing her fully restored arm in sheer amazement. She looked up at Aerion, her respect deepening into something akin to awe. "My thanks, Patron."
"We cannot afford to have you compromised," Aerion replied pragmatically, stepping back.
With the immediate danger passed, Lupin cautiously poked his head out from behind the rubble, letting out a soft, questioning whine before trotting over to sniff the smoking corpse of the giant spider.
Aerion walked around the perimeter of the room, approaching the massive, pulsing egg sacs clinging to the walls. With his Gamer instincts firing, he carefully reached into a few of the torn sacs, looting several intact Frostbite Spider Eggs.
They were highly valuable, potent ingredients for Alchemy. He safely stored them away, noting the minor 0.50 KG increase in his inventory weight.
Once he had harvested what he needed, he turned back to the room. The sheer number of unhatched eggs was a biological hazard waiting to erupt.
"Stand back," Aerion warned.
He raised his hands and unleashed a sweeping wave of continuous fire across the walls and ceiling. The sticky webbing and the fleshy egg sacs went up like dry tinder.
The entire cavern was illuminated in a brilliant orange inferno as Aerion systematically purged the infestation, ensuring that not a single spider would survive to threaten the trade routes again.
As the flames died down, leaving nothing but scorched stone and falling ash, Jenassa walked over to the back of the cavern. The exit archway was completely blocked by a thick, hardened layer of old webbing. With a few powerful, sweeping hacks of her steel sword, she cut through the silk, clearing the path forward.
They stepped out of the spider's lair and continued down a long, descending stone hallway.
As they walked, the architecture shifted once more. They passed through a distinct, half circle shaped room, the walls lined end to end with dozens of small, ancient burial urns. Aerion, keeping his guard up, methodically lit every ancient torch and brazier they passed, bathing the dark halls in a warm, protective glow.
They finally reached the end of the corridor, stopping at the threshold of a massive, open entrance.
Aerion looked into the next chamber, and his blood ran cold. The room was vast, and every single inch of the walls, from the floor to the high ceiling, was carved into deep, rectangular burial niches.
Lying inside those niches, perfectly preserved by the cold and the ancient embalming magics, were hundreds of mummified Nordic corpses.
Their skeletal hands still gripped rusted iron battleaxes, ancient swords, and heavy banded shields. It was the catacombs. And Aerion knew, with absolute certainty, that they weren't all truly dead. The restless guardians of Bleak Falls Barrow were waiting in the dark.
_____________________________
[Main Panel] Name: Aerion Race: High Elf (Altmer) Health: 310/310 Stamina: 290/290 Magicka: 440/440 Level: 59 ➝ 61
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire/Lightning) (Level 62/52), Persuasion (Level 71), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 26), One Handed (Level 67), Restoration (Healing) (Level 28), Two Handed (Level 65), Lockpicking (Level 9), Archery (Level 72), Alteration (Level 4), Enchanting (Level 19), Light Armor (Level 40), Block (Level 60), Illusion (Level 6), Pickpocket (Level 8) - NEW
[Inventory Panel]
1x Steel Dagger, Long Bow, Potions of Minor Stamina, Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Copper and Onyx Circlet, Mammoth Tusk, Iron Shield, Steel Mace, Steel Warhammer, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Provision Bag, Silver Ring, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Copper Garnet Necklace, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Steel Dagger of Minor Souls, & Weak Potion of Paralysis
2x Gold Garnet Rings, Gold Ring, Iron Mace, Steel Axe, Steel Greatsword, & Lesser Soul Gem,
3x Silver Rings, Sapphire, Iron Greatsword, Steel Sword, & Scroll Of Fireball
4x Lockpicks, Potions of Minor Magicka, Silver Garnet Rings, & 4 Spider Eggs
6x Ruby & Amethyst
7x Potions Of Minor Healing
8x Iron Arrows
Weight: 112.85 KG / 445 KG
Septims = 51,398