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!)
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The loud, groaning creak of the heavy iron door opening echoed violently through the massive chamber. Instantly, the shuffling footsteps stopped. Dozens of pairs of glowing, malevolent blue eyes slowly turned upward, locking directly onto Aerion and Jenassa standing on the second floor balcony.
Aerion stared out over the massive, dimly lit chamber. He saw the sheer, overwhelming numerical disadvantage. Standard Draugr were pouring out from the lower alcoves, while heavily armored Restless Draugr and rusted iron clad Draugr Wights began marching aggressively toward the narrow wooden suspension bridge that served as their only path forward.
"Vaste!" Aerion spat, a sharp, highly venomous curse in his native High Elven tongue slipping past his lips.
He didn't hesitate. Tactical superiority in a confined space required meat shields, or in his case, entities forged from the very fabric of Oblivion.
He thrust his hands out over the railing of the balcony, aiming directly for the sprawling stone floor far below. He rapidly tapped into his Conjuration skill, drawing a massive surge of Magicka.
FWOOSH. FWOOSH. FWOOSH.
Three massive dimensional tears ripped open on the ground floor. Aerion summoned three distinct, heavily armored Atronachs, one Flame, one Frost, and one Storm, dropping them directly into the center of the undead horde gathering below.
[Conjuration (Summoning) Leveled Up 7 Times! Current Level: 93]
"Engage the heavy infantry!" Aerion commanded the Daedric vanguard.
Absolute chaos instantly erupted on the lower floor. The Draugr Wights, possessing enough ancient tactical programming to recognize the immediate, overwhelming threat of the Atronachs, diverted their attention away from the balcony. They swarmed the elementals, their rusted greatswords clashing against solid ice and crackling electricity.
"Hold the bridge, Jenassa!" Aerion ordered, stepping up to the edge of the narrow, swaying wooden structure. "Let them come to us. Funnel them into the chokepoint!"
Jenassa understood the strategy flawlessly. She sprinted to the absolute center of the wooden suspension bridge. It was barely wide enough for two men to stand shoulder to shoulder, meaning the horde of Restless Draugr rushing from the opposite side could only attack her one at a time.
She dropped into a low, lethal crouch, her glowing Steel Frost Sword in her right hand and the heavy Orcish dagger in her left.
The first Draugr charged onto the creaking wood, swinging a heavy iron axe. Jenassa didn't block, she deflected the blow with the flat of her dagger, stepped smoothly inside the creature's guard, and drove the Frost Sword directly through its ribcage.
Aerion took up a position three paces behind her. He essentially acted as a mobile, highly precise artillery battery.
Because Jenassa was engaged in a brutal, chaotic melee directly in his line of sight, he couldn't use his massive, room clearing Fire Storms or Ice Storms. If he unleashed a wide area spell, he would incinerate his own bodyguard. He had to rely entirely on pinpoint, surgical strikes.
He raised his hands, shifting between his newly reset, highly potent Fire matrix and his maximized holy Restoration magic.
A second Draugr attempted to step around the falling body of the first. Aerion pointed two fingers, unleashing a compressed, highly concentrated Firebolt. The bolt of superheated plasma streaked over Jenassa's shoulder, missing her ear by mere inches, and struck the Draugr perfectly between the eyes.
The undead warrior's head snapped back, the explosive force blowing it clean off the bridge to plummet into the chasm below.
"Incoming, heavy armor!" Jenassa shouted, parrying a sweeping blow from a Restless Draugr.
Aerion shifted his stance. He brought his hands together, weaving the blinding, searing white light of his Purify spell. He fired a concentrated beam of holy energy directly over Jenassa's head.
The light struck the Restless Draugr's iron chest plate. The holy magic bypassed the metal entirely, instantly igniting the necrotic flesh beneath. The Draugr shrieked, dropping its weapon and crumbling into a pile of white ash directly on the wooden planks.
The combat was incredibly fierce, demanding absolute, flawless synchronization between the mage and the assassin.
Jenassa became a localized blender of malachite and steel. She severed limbs, hamstrung charging enemies, and kicked staggered corpses off the bridge to clear her footing. Aerion provided the lethal finishing blows, raining precise firebolts and holy beams into the mob pressing against the chokepoint. Every time a Draugr raised a weapon to strike Jenassa from a blind spot, Aerion blew its arm off with plasma.
Down below, the Atronachs fought a brutal war of attrition against the Wights. The sound of shattering ice, roaring flames, and deafening thunder echoed violently off the stone walls.
Minutes bled by in a haze of smoke, burning linen, and blood.
Eventually, the massive numerical advantage of the horde began to thin. The final Draugr Wight on the ground floor managed to cleave the Storm Atronach in half before succumbing to its wounds, banishing the final Daedric entity back to Oblivion.
On the bridge, Jenassa drove her Orcish dagger through the base of the skull of the final Restless Draugr. She twisted the blade, severed the spine, and kicked the body aside.
Silence finally crashed back down upon the cavernous chamber.
Jenassa stood in the center of the bridge, her chest heaving, wiping a splatter of black, oily Draugr blood from her cheek. She looked back at Aerion, a fiercely competitive, highly satisfied smirk on her scarred face.
"A solid defense, Patron," she panted, sheathing her blades. "Your aim is remarkably steady under pressure."
"And your footwork is flawless," Aerion complimented, lowering his hands and letting his Magicka pathways cool.
The sheer volume of surgical, precision casting he had performed under the intense pressure of a live-fire scenario caused his internal matrices to surge dramatically.
[Destruction (Fire)(+2) Leveled Up 16 Times! Current Level: 44]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 95!]
[You have gained 1 Attribute Point!]
Aerion mentally collected the attribute point, adding it to the single point he had saved from earlier. He now held exactly two unspent points in his reserves.
With the massive chamber entirely secured, they crossed the remainder of the wooden bridge. They walked down the long, winding stone staircases to the ground floor, navigating the scattered piles of ash and broken rusted weapons.
Aerion's dimensional void made quick work of looting the battlefield. He swept the area, collecting the loose, ancient septims from the fallen horde.
[Gold Acquired: 68 Septims]
"A rather poor army," Aerion noted, unimpressed by the meager haul.
They pushed forward, exiting the massive chamber and descending another set of narrow stone stairs. The temperature in the crypt suddenly and drastically shifted, the freezing, damp air replaced by a wave of intense, suffocating heat.
Aerion pushed open a heavy iron gate at the bottom of the stairs, stepping into a perfectly square stone room.
Dominating the absolute center of the chamber was a massive, roaring bonfire. The flames leaped nearly ten feet into the air, fueled by ancient, magically preserved lumber, lighting the entire room in brilliant, dancing orange hues.
Standing around the bonfire, warming their dead, desiccated flesh, were two standard Draugr.
They didn't even have time to register the intrusion.
Jenassa, running purely on the lingering adrenaline from the bridge fight, blurred into motion. She sprinted into the room, drew her Frost Sword, and decapitated the first Draugr before it could even turn its head. She used the momentum to spin on her heel, driving her Orcish dagger deep into the chest of the second, instantly freezing its heart and kicking it backward into the massive bonfire.
"Clear," Jenassa announced, her breath coming slightly faster.
Aerion simply nodded, bypassing the roaring flames entirely. He approached the heavy iron door on the opposite side of the bonfire room and pushed it open.
They stepped into a wide, beautifully carved stone hallway. The walls were lined with massive, intricate murals depicting ancient Nordic legends, men fighting dragons, massive armies clashing on snowy plains, and stylized depictions of the animal totems.
It looked exactly like the approach to a standard Dragon Claw puzzle door.
However, as they reached the end of the mural hallway, there was no massive, circular stone door waiting for them. Instead, a heavy, rusted iron portcullis gate completely blocked their path forward.
Situated directly in front of the locked gate, resting perfectly in the center of the hallway, was a small, ornate stone pedestal. And resting atop the pedestal, gleaming in the torchlight, was a pristine Ancient Nord Helmet.
Lupin trotted forward, his nose twitching as he approached the pedestal.
Aerion's golden eyes narrowed instantly. He didn't look at the shiny helmet. He looked at the floor, and then he looked at the ceiling.
Surrounding the pedestal, covering a massive ten-foot radius on the stone floor, were hundreds of small, perfectly circular holes drilled directly into the masonry. When he looked up, he saw an identical pattern of holes carved into the vaulted ceiling.
It was a spear trap. And a massive one.
"Jenassa. Lupin. Move back to the threshold of the hallway. Now," Aerion commanded, his voice sharp and uncompromising.
Jenassa, recognizing the tone of absolute danger, immediately grabbed the scruff of Lupin's neck and hauled the protesting fox backward, retreating thirty feet down the corridor until they were safely out of the perforated zone.
Aerion remained at the edge of the trap radius. He didn't bother looking for a hidden lever or a disarm mechanism. He preferred the direct, brute-force approach to ancient engineering.
He raised his right hand, pointing his index finger directly at the Ancient Nord Helmet resting on the pedestal. He generated a small, highly compressed sphere of plasma.
He fired the Firebolt.
CLANG.
The fiery projectile struck the heavy iron helmet perfectly, the kinetic force blowing it violently off the pedestal. It clattered loudly across the stone floor.
The moment the weight of the helmet was removed from the pressure sensitive pedestal, the trap sprang to life.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
With a terrifying, deafening sequence of mechanical snaps, hundreds of massive, rusted iron spears shot violently out of the holes in the floor, thrusting upward with enough force to impale a mammoth. Simultaneously, an identical set of heavy spears thrust violently downward from the ceiling.
The entire center of the hallway became a lethal, impenetrable cage of intersecting, razor-sharp iron poles.
A split second later, the heavy iron portcullis gate blocking their path began to slowly grind upward, the removal of the helmet having acted as the primary key.
With a loud hiss of releasing pneumatic pressure, the spears suddenly retracted back into their hidden compartments, resetting the trap but leaving the gate wide open.
"A rather dramatic locking mechanism," Aerion observed dryly.
He walked forward, stepping safely over the perforated tiles now that the trap had been triggered and the weight puzzle solved. He reached down and picked up the heavy Ancient Nord Helmet that had rolled near the wall, tossing it casually into his spatial inventory.
[Item Acquired: Ancient Nord Helmet]
[Inventory Weight Increased by 0.90 KG]
"The path is clear," Aerion called back.
Jenassa and Lupin rejoined him, walking carefully over the holes in the floor. They passed through the now open portcullis gate, finding themselves in a rough hewn stone tunnel that began to slope sharply uphill.
They followed the ascending path for several minutes, the air growing colder and vastly more stagnant.
Finally, the tunnel leveled out, terminating before a massive, incredibly ornate set of double iron doors. The metal was covered in ancient, glowing frost, completely undisturbed by time.
Aerion stopped. He turned to his bodyguard, his expression dropping its usual aristocratic amusement, replaced by a mask of cold, absolute tactical focus.
"Hold a moment, Jenassa," Aerion warned, his voice low. "We have reached the apex of the barrow. I can feel the ambient magic bleeding through the iron. Behind these doors is the master of this crypt."
Jenassa tightened her grip on her bow, her crimson eyes hardening. "Another Overlord? Or a Deathlord?"
"Something entirely unique, I suspect," Aerion replied, reaching out and pushing the heavy double doors open.
They stepped onto a high, elevated stone landing overlooking a truly massive, cavernous throne room.
The chamber was sprawling. From their elevated position, a long, wide flight of sweeping stone stairs led down to a sunken, lower floor that spanned the entirety of the room. The lower floor was completely littered with scattered bones, broken weapons, and the shattered remains of ancient burial urns.
Directly opposite their position, situated on a raised dais at the very back of the cavern, was a massive stone throne.
And directly behind the throne was the sweeping, curved architecture of a Word Wall.
The moment the heavy iron doors slammed open, the room reacted. The scattered bones on the lower floor began to rattle and shake. In a terrifying display of necromantic programming, dozens of Skeletons began to violently reassemble themselves, picking up rusted iron swords and ancient hunting bows.
"Summoning the vanguard," Aerion announced.
He drew heavily upon his Conjuration skill, tearing four massive, jagged rifts in the fabric of reality. He didn't want fire or lightning, he wanted an immovable wall of physical trauma.
Four hulking, massive Frost Atronachs stepped onto the landing.
"Clear the floor!" Aerion commanded.
The four ice golems let out deep, grinding roars and threw themselves down the stone stairs, crashing directly into the skeletal horde. The brittle, unarmored skeletons were absolutely no match for the Atronachs.
The golems swept their massive ice club arms in wide arcs, completely shattering three or four skeletons with a single, devastating blow, turning the lower floor into a chaotic bone crushing mill.
But Aerion's focus was not on the fragile infantry. His golden eyes were locked entirely on the massive stone throne at the back of the room.
A figure was slowly rising from the ancient seat.
It was a Draugr, but its physical proportions were entirely wrong. It was vastly, unnervingly taller than any Overlord or Deathlord they had encountered. It stood nearly eight feet tall, its heavily muscled, desiccated frame clad in pristine, ornate ancient Nord armor.
But what truly commanded attention was the weapon it held in its massive, rotting hands.
It was a Honed Ancient Nord Greatsword, a weapon polished to a mirror shine despite centuries of burial.
However, the entire length of the massive blade radiated a thick, swirling, deeply aggressive blue aura of highly potent Frost enchantment. The ambient temperature of the room visibly dropped as the warlord hefted the weapon.
Jenassa stood beside Aerion, her eyes widening slightly at the sheer, imposing scale of the ancient monster.
"By the Ancestors," Jenassa murmured, an edge of genuine surprise bleeding into her gravelly voice. "That is no standard king. Patron... can this one wield the Voice?"
Aerion's mind raced, rapidly digging through his encyclopedic meta knowledge of Skyrim's dungeons. Ironbind Barrow. The giant Draugr.
"Warlord Gathrik," Aerion supplied the name, his voice tight.
He searched his memory for Gathrik's specific combat mechanics. Does he shout? The warlord was a unique, named boss entity. He possessed an astronomically high health pool and devastating physical damage due to his unique greatsword, but Aerion was fairly certain Gathrik was a purely martial combatant.
However, in a reality where Draugr Overlords randomly spawned with Ebony weapons, assuming the game code was perfectly static was a lethal gamble.
"From the knowledge I have gathered, he does not possess the Thu'um," Aerion answered honestly, keeping his eyes locked on the advancing giant. "But I absolutely refuse to bet our lives on historical footnotes. We play this safe."
Aerion rapidly outlined the tactical doctrine. "I will handle the Warlord. I am going to spam massive, high impact spells to keep him perpetually staggered. He cannot be allowed to swing that greatsword, a single grazing blow will freeze your blood and cleave you in half. Your objective is entirely defensive. Protect my flanks. Ensure absolutely none of those skeletons slip past the Atronachs to interrupt my casting."
Jenassa nodded crisply, fully accepting the protective role. She unslung her Dwarven bow, her eyes scanning the chaotic melee on the lower floor. "Your flanks are secure, Patron. Bring the giant down."
Warlord Gathrik stepped off the raised dais, his glowing blue eyes burning with absolute hatred. He did not charge blindly. He walked with heavy, deliberate, terrifying purpose, his massive footsteps booming across the stone. He had to navigate the winding path around the central chasm, bringing him directly toward the stairs where the Atronachs were fighting.
The Warlord reached the melee. A Frost Atronach turned, raising its massive ice club to strike the giant.
Gathrik didn't even slow down. He swung his glowing blue greatsword in a devastating, horizontal arc. The massive blade cleaved cleanly through the Atronach's solid ice torso. The sheer kinetic and magical force of the blow shattered the Daedric entity instantly, reducing it to a pile of mundane snow.
"He hits like a falling mountain," Aerion noted grimly.
With his path cleared, Gathrik began ascending the long stone stairs, his eyes locked entirely on the High Elf.
Aerion did not retreat. He stepped to the very edge of the landing.
He raised both of his hands, drawing the absolute maximum amount of Magicka his pathways could handle. He didn't use fire or lightning. Against a creature of pure, ancient necrotic evil, holy magic was the ultimate weapon.
"Burn in the light," Aerion roared.
He unleashed a dual cast, maximum potency Greater Purify.
The spell did not manifest as a simple beam. A massive, blinding, searing wave of pure, concentrated holy energy erupted from his hands, illuminating the entire cavernous room in brilliant white light.
The holy wave crashed directly into Warlord Gathrik.
The effect was cataclysmic. The Warlord shrieked, a horrifying, grating sound of ancient vocal cords tearing. The holy magic violently rejected his undead essence. The necrotic flesh beneath his heavy armor instantly caught fire, burning with a blinding white intensity.
The sheer concussive force of the divine magic staggered the massive giant, forcing him to take a heavy step backward on the stairs, his Frost Greatsword lowering as he fought against the holy inferno consuming his body.
But Gathrik was a monster of immense durability. He roared through the pain, forcing himself to take another step upward.
"Keep him locked down!" Jenassa shouted. She was fully engaged now, rapidly firing arrows into the skulls of three skeletons that had managed to slip past the remaining Atronachs and were rushing up the stairs to flank Aerion.
Aerion didn't let up. He poured his entire, massive Magicka pool into sustaining the Greater Purify. He walked slowly down the stairs, forcing the holy wave directly into the Warlord's face, maintaining the absolute, relentless pressure.
Below them, the skeletons were finally eradicated, but Gathrik had managed to blindly swing his greatsword, shattering a second Frost Atronach in the chaos.
The Warlord, now completely engulfed in holy fire, raised his glowing blue blade for a final, desperate, lunging strike at the High Elf who was burning him alive.
Jenassa, having cleared the skeletons, dropped her bow. She sprinted down the stairs, a blur of motion. She dove beneath the sweeping arc of Gathrik's massive greatsword, using her forward momentum to drive her Frost Steel Sword directly into the back of the Warlord's heavily armored knee joint.
The blade severed the ancient tendons. Gathrik stumbled, his massive weight causing him to collapse heavily onto one knee.
Aerion capitalized instantly. He dropped the sustained holy wave, focused all his remaining energy into his right palm, and unleashed a point blank, highly compressed Fireball directly into the Warlord's exposed face.
BOOM.
The explosive force blew Gathrik backward down the stairs. His heavy armor warped, his ancient bones shattered under the thermal shock, and the brilliant blue light in his eyes finally flickered and died.
The Warlord's massive corpse hit the bottom of the stairs with a heavy, final thud.
The cavern fell completely silent, save for the crackle of residual holy fire and the heavy panting of the victorious duo.
Aerion leaned against the stone railing, letting out a long, exhausted breath. He dismissed the two surviving Frost Atronachs, the mental pressure lifting from his skull.
"That was... significantly more intense than I anticipated," Aerion admitted, wiping a bead of sweat from his golden forehead.
Jenassa retrieved her sword, wiping the oily black blood on the stone. She looked down at the massive corpse. "His physical strength was terrifying. Without the holy magic to keep him staggered, that blade would have cleaved right through us."
Aerion walked down the stairs, approaching the fallen Warlord. He knelt beside the massive corpse to claim the spoils of war.
He reached out, letting his dimensional void siphon the loot.
Resting securely in a leather pouch attached to Gathrik's belt was a heavy, leather bound magical text. The system identified it instantly.
[Item Acquired: Spell Tome: Reanimate Corpse]
It was a useful spell, though Aerion preferred Daedric entities over rotting zombies. He stored ithe book away to be sold or given to someone.
Next, he found two massive, jagged dark crystals tucked into the Warlord's armor.
[Items Acquired: 2x Black Soul Gem (Empty)]
"Excellent," Aerion murmured. Empty Black Soul Gems were incredibly rare and highly necessary for custom enchanting.
Finally, he grabbed the hilt of the massive weapon Gathrik had wielded. It was incredibly heavy, the dark iron polished to a mirror finish. The blue aura still pulsed violently across the blade.
[Item Acquired: Honed Ancient Nord Greatsword of Cold]
Aerion lifted the massive weapon, admiring the craftsmanship before seamlessly sliding it into his spatial inventory.
[Inventory Weight Increased by 2.78 KG]
"The Warlord is stripped," Aerion announced, standing up.
He turned his gaze toward the back of the cavern. The massive, sweeping curve of the Word Wall dominated the shadows behind the empty stone throne.
"Come," Aerion instructed.
He, Jenassa, and Lupin walked across the bone-littered floor, ascending the steps to the raised dais.
As they approached the ancient monument, Aerion noticed a massive, heavy steel chest resting to the right of the wall. But his attention was entirely captivated by the stone itself.
The deep, rhythmic chanting of the dragons began to echo in his skull, pulling him forward. He stepped past the throne, his eyes locked on a single, glowing blue rune that separated itself from the rest of the ancient script.
The concept embedded in the stone was profound. It wasn't about destruction, or time, or kinetic force. It was about fundamental existence. The ability to sever one's ties to the physical world, becoming an untouchable, ethereal phantom.
Aerion reached out and placed his bare hand directly against the word wall.
The knowledge burned into his soul, absolute and undeniable.
[Word of Power Discovered!]
[Would you like to permanently integrate the first word of the Become Ethereal Shout into your reality? Feim (Fade) YES / NO]
To possess the ultimate defensive panic button, the ability to render himself completely immune to all physical and magical damage with a single breath, was an absolute necessity.
Aerion mentally pressed YES.
The chanting ceased. The blue light faded, returning the wall to dormant stone. Aerion lowered his hand, feeling the concept of Feim resting heavily alongside his other Shouts.
He turned his attention away from the wall and focused on the massive steel chest resting nearby.
He hauled the heavy lid open, his golden eyes scanning the high level loot within.
Resting right at the top of the pile, shimmering in the dim light of the crypt, was a beautifully crafted piece of armor. It was not bulky ancient iron, nor was it rusted steel.
It was a pristine piece of Elven Armor. The lightweight, golden moonstone plating was flawless, and it radiated a distinct, pulsating red aura of magical enchantment.
Aerion reached in and lifted the gilded armor. He let out a soft, highly amused chuckle, shaking his head at the historical irony. "It seems," Aerion mused, holding the Aldmeri craftsmanship up to the light, "that despite their endless, bloody wars against the Elves, the ancient Nords absolutely loved to hoard our superior tailoring."
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 400/400 Stamina: 400/400 Magicka: 530/530
Level: 94 ➝ 95
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+2)/Lightning(+1)/Frost) (Level 44/19/89), Restoration (Healing/Purify) (Level 76/MAX), Alteration (Level 35), Alteration (Level 20), Illusion (Level 42), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning) (Level 37/93), Persuasion(+1) (Level 0), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 33), One Handed (Level 76), Two Handed (Level 65), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 34), Light Armor (Level 53), Block (Level 70), & Pickpocket (Level 8)
Shouts: Fus (Force), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), & Feim (Fade)
[Inventory Panel]
1x Steel Dagger, Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Mammoth Tusk, Iron Shield, Steel Mace, Steel Warhammer, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Steel Dagger of Minor Souls, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Ancient Nord Bow, Dragonstone, Ancient Nord Battleaxe Of Blaze, Potion of Minor Pickpocketing, Golden Staff of Flames, Parchment Rolls Of Mammoths Farm And Loan, Golden Emerald Circlet, Copper Sapphire Circlet, Ebony Claw, Orcish Dagger, Emerald, Sapphire, Silver Garnet Circlet, Jagged Crown, Elven Sword Of Lightning, Elven Shield, Circlet Of Peerless Alchemy, Ancient Nord Boots, The Mirror, Glass Sword, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Staff of Magelight, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Iron Gauntlets of Smithing, Reanimate Corpse Tome, & Honed Ancient Nord Greatsword of Cold
2x Iron Mace, Steel Axe, Steel Greatsword, Silver Amethyst Ring, Silver Necklace, Gold Emerald Ring, Potion Of Ultimate Magicka, Common Soul Gem (Empty), Weak Magicka Poison, Gold Garnet Necklace, Scroll of Fireball, Scroll of Guardian Circle, Ancient Nord Helmet, & Black Soul Gem (Empty)
3x Iron Greatsword, Steel Sword, Scroll Of Fireball, Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, Silver Ruby Ring, Gold Ruby Ring, Amethyst, Silver Ingot, Quicksilver Ingot, Black Soul Gems (Filled), & Silver Garnet Necklace
4x Potions of Minor Magicka, Spider Eggs, Iron Ingots, Gold Ingots, & Garnet
5x Lesser Soul Gem, Dwarven Metal Ingot, & Ruby
8x Iron Arrows & Ancient Nord Arrows
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
Weight: 145.44 KG / 500 KG
Septims: 83,704