If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
...
(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
Every time Malkoran raised his hands to cast a devastating spell of frost or lightning, a flaming arrow would strike his wards or graze his dark robes, violently disrupting his concentration and forcing him to scramble for cover behind the stone pillars. Aerion's relentless barrage of holy light continued to eat through the horde, the golden text of his system registering the massive, rapid growth of his magical skills as he systematically burned the necrotic corruption from Meridia's temple.
Malkoran watched in absolute, horrified disbelief as his impenetrable wall of Corrupted Shades was systematically, violently erased from existence.
The Necromancer stood upon his elevated stone dais, the ambient necrotic energy swirling uselessly around his ragged dark robes. He had spent months in the freezing dark, desecrating the fallen soldiers of the civil war, meticulously tearing their souls from their bodies to forge an invincible vanguard. And yet, this towering, golden skinned intruder was simply walking through them, washing the temple floor with blinding, apocalyptic holy light.
Malkoran's dark eyes narrowed, his features twisting into a mask of pure, desperate rage. The light was encroaching too quickly. The archers were dead, and his melee vanguard was evaporating into ash.
"You think you can burn away my power?!" Malkoran shrieked, his voice magically amplified to echo over the roaring hum of Aerion's restoration magic. "I control the cold! I control the dark!"
Realizing his current tactic was failing spectacularly, Malkoran abruptly shifted his arcane doctrine. He dropped the necrotic tendrils from his hands, turning instead to the deepest, most taxing echelons of the Conjuration school.
He raised his hands high above his head, chanting rapidly in the harsh, guttural syllables of the Daedric realms. The temperature in the sanctum plummeted instantly, frost creeping rapidly across the stone floorboards.
With four consecutive, deafening CRACKS that sounded like splitting glaciers, the fabric of reality tore open.
Materializing in a defensive semi circle directly in front of the dais were four massive, hulking Frost Atronachs.
The towering elemental golems, composed entirely of jagged, shifting blue ice, let out deep, grinding roars, their massive spiked arms scraping against the stone.
It was a staggering display of arcane prowess. Summoning and maintaining a stable tether to four heavy elementals simultaneously required an immense, highly disciplined Magicka pool and intense mental fortitude.
Malkoran sneered, leaning heavily on his staff, his chest heaving with the exertion. He believed he had just checkmated the intruders.
Aerion paused his slow march. He lowered his hands, letting the blinding beams of Purify fade into the air, plunging the room back into the dim, pulsing purple light of the Necromancer's wards.
Aerion looked at the four towering Frost Atronachs. And then, a slow, highly amused, aristocratic smile spread across his golden features.
"You wish to play at being a summoner?" Aerion murmured, his melodic voice carrying effortlessly across the cavernous room.
Aerion didn't bother using staves or reading from a scroll. He tapped directly into his maximized Conjuration (Summoning) magic, drawing upon his monstrous, 590 point Magicka reserve with effortless, terrifying efficiency.
He didn't raise his hands to the heavens or chant in ancient tongues. He simply snapped his fingers on his right hand in rapid, rhythmic succession.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
The air in the sanctum violently shattered. It didn't crack, it exploded.
Eight distinct, violently swirling portals to Oblivion tore open in a wide arc around Aerion's position.
From the first three portals erupted towering Flame Atronachs, their slender, feminine forms composed entirely of roaring, superheated plasma and floating black armor.
From the next three portals came the Storm Atronachs, massive, chaotic amalgamations of spinning boulders and crackling, blinding purple electricity. And from the final two portals, mirroring Malkoran's own defenders, stepped two massive, heavily spiked Frost Atronachs.
The sheer, overwhelming pressure of the displaced air and the clashing elemental temperatures sent a violent shockwave through the temple.
Malkoran's jaw practically hit the stone dais. His dark, furious eyes widened to the point of tearing.
The psychological devastation was absolute. Malkoran was a master of the dark arts, he knew exactly how much mental bandwidth and raw magical energy it cost to tether four elementals.
It was the absolute pinnacle of his mortal capabilities. To see a High Elf casually, silently summon eight Atronachs of mixed, conflicting elemental natures simultaneously... it was an act of raw, impossible power that completely shattered the Necromancer's understanding of reality.
Aerion didn't gloat. He simply pointed his right index finger toward the dais.
"Destroy them," Aerion commanded.
The resulting clash was a cataclysm of elemental violence.
The three Flame Atronachs immediately engaged their levitation, soaring over the remaining Corrupted Shades and unleashing a devastating barrage of concentrated fireballs directly at Malkoran's Frost Atronachs. The superheated plasma struck the ice golems, filling the room with blinding steam and the screech of melting ice.
The Storm Atronachs lumbered forward, acting as heavy artillery. They unleashed thick, violently arcing bolts of chain lightning that tore through the remaining horde of shades, completely eradicating the Necromancer's meat shield while simultaneously grounding their electrical charges into the enemy ice elementals.
Aerion's two Frost Atronachs simply waded into the center of the room, engaging Malkoran's golems in a brutal, earth shaking melee of grinding ice and crushing kinetic force.
With the overwhelming elemental army completely monopolizing the attention of the enemy summons and the remaining shades, the pressure on Aerion and Jenassa vanished entirely.
"Pin him down!" Aerion shouted over the roaring thunder and hissing steam.
Jenassa, having relocated to the cover of a thick stone pillar near the entrance, was already executing the order. She drew back the string of her Dwarven Bow to its absolute maximum tension.
THWIP. THWIP. THWIP.
She unleashed a rapid fire volley of flaming arrows directly at the Necromancer.
Malkoran, desperately trying to cast a heavy Destruction spell to thin out Aerion's overwhelming elemental army, was forced to abort the incantation. An arrow shattered violently against his shimmering purple ward, while another grazed the fabric of his robes, bursting into localized flame.
"Curse you!" Malkoran roared, frantically throwing up a secondary, thicker ward of hardened frost to deflect the sniper fire.
He was completely pinned. Every time he dropped the ward to launch a counter attack, Jenassa's lethal precision forced him back onto the defensive. He couldn't support his summons, and he couldn't attack his primary threats.
The battle in the center of the room quickly resolved into a mathematical certainty. Malkoran's four Frost Atronachs, bombarded by fire, lightning, and crushing physical blows, simply could not sustain the damage. One by one, they shattered, their icy forms exploding into puddles of rapidly evaporating water.
The cost, however, was not zero. The chaotic crossfire and the brutal melee had taken its toll on Aerion's forces. Five of his Atronachs had destabilized and banished back to Oblivion, leaving only one Storm, one Flame, and one Frost Atronach standing in the center of the ash covered floor.
But the Corrupted Shades were entirely gone.
Malkoran was completely exposed. He stood alone on the dais, panting heavily, his wards flickering erratically as his Magicka reserves dwindled.
Aerion stepped out from behind his elemental vanguard. The time for crowd control was over.
Aerion raised his hands, his golden eyes locking onto the defiler. He tapped into his highly destructive Destruction matrix, weaving two distinctly opposing elements simultaneously. In his left hand, the freezing, absolute zero temperatures of an Icy Spear began to rapidly crystallize. In his right hand, the volatile, crackling energy of Thunderbolt roared to life.
Aerion unleashed the barrage.
The heavy, jagged spear of solid ice shot across the room, slamming violently into Malkoran's faltering ward. The sheer kinetic impact shattered the purple magical barrier like cheap glass. A fraction of a second later, the blinding bolt of purple lightning struck the Necromancer directly in the chest.
Malkoran screamed in agony, the electrical current overriding his nervous system and charring his dark robes. He staggered backward, stumbling up the steps of the dais toward the pristine pedestal holding the Dawnbreaker.
He raised his hands, desperately trying to pull the holy light from the artifact to heal himself, corrupting it further.
Aerion refused to allow it.
In the heat of the moment, surrounded by the ozone stench of lightning and the freezing mist of ice, Aerion's hyper active mind visualized a completely new geometric configuration for his electrical magic. He didn't want a chaotic, arcing bolt, he wanted a highly compressed, piercing lance of pure plasma.
He thrust his right hand forward, his fingers tightly grouped together. He didn't cast a standard spell from the game's code. He forced his intention onto the magic.
A tightly compressed, blindingly bright, perfectly straight beam of pure, white hot electrical plasma erupted from his fingertips. It tore through the air with a deafening, high pitched shriek that defied the vanilla mechanics of Skyrim.
The voltaic lance struck Malkoran dead center in the chest, violently piercing straight through his sternum and exiting out his back, scorching the stone wall behind him.
Malkoran's eyes rolled back into his head. The necrotic chanting stopped abruptly. His physical, mortal body crumpled to the stone floor of the dais like a puppet whose strings had been violently severed.
Aerion lowered his hand, his breathing steady.
The sanctum fell incredibly, eerily silent. Even Aerion's three remaining Atronachs stood perfectly still, awaiting orders.
Jenassa cautiously stepped out from behind the stone pillar, lowering her bow. "Is it finished, Patron?"
"No," Aerion barked, his voice sharp and commanding. "Get back! Defensive positions!"
The moment the words left his mouth, a horrific, unnatural phenomenon occurred on the dais.
Malkoran's physical corpse did not simply lie still. A thick, viscous, suffocating cloud of pitch black smoke began to violently erupt from his charred chest cavity. The smoke didn't dissipate, it rapidly coalesced, twisting and expanding into a towering, terrifying silhouette.
It was Malkoran's Shade.
But this was no standard corrupted foot soldier. The entity was nearly eight feet tall, radiating an aura of absolute, freezing death that instantly layered the dais in thick ice. Its glowing white eyes burned with a mixture of profound agony and unadulterated, cosmic hatred.
It retained all of Malkoran's devastating magical knowledge, but was no longer burdened by a frail mortal body or finite stamina.
The Shade threw its head back and unleashed a distorted, metallic, echoing shriek that vibrated the very teeth in Aerion's skull.
Without a moment of hesitation, Malkoran's Shade raised a shadowy hand. A massive, swirling vortex of absolute zero frost erupted from its palm, completely engulfing Aerion's remaining Storm Atronach.
The elemental didn't even have a chance to react, it was instantly flash frozen into a solid block of ice before shattering into a million pieces.
"It is his soul!" Aerion shouted to Jenassa over the roaring frost wind. "It is vastly more powerful than his mortal shell! Watch the magic!"
Jenassa reached over her shoulder to draw another arrow, her fingers grasping empty air. Her quiver was completely depleted.
With a frustrated snarl, Jenassa threw the heavy Dwarven Bow to the stone floor. She drew her Frost Steel Sword and her Orcish Dagger. If she couldn't snipe the entity, she would carve it apart.
She sprinted across the sanctum, utilizing the stone pillars for cover as the Shade hurled massive, explosive Ice Storms across the room. She closed the distance, diving into a lethal forward roll to dodge a sweeping blast of necrotic energy, and lunged up the steps of the dais, slashing her blades in a rapid, spinning arc.
The physical blades struck the ethereal form, causing the Shade to stagger, but the sheer, radiating cold emanating from the entity immediately began to numb Jenassa's arms.
"I need covering fire, Patron!" Jenassa grunted, parrying a shadowy strike that nearly knocked the sword from her grip.
Aerion recognized the immediate danger. His physical elements, fire and lightning, were effective, but they were not optimal against an entity composed entirely of dark, corrupted soul energy.
He sheathed the Black Prism, planting his boots firmly on the stone floor. He bypassed Destruction entirely and tapped into the absolute core of his Restoration magic.
He didn't dual cast. He brought his hands together, interlacing his fingers, and began to compress the pure, holy light of the Purify spell into a single, blinding, infinitely dense singularity between his palms.
"Clear the dais, Jenassa!" Aerion roared.
Jenassa didn't question the order. She executed a rapid backward handspring, vaulting off the elevated stone platform and landing gracefully on the ground floor, sprinting toward the safety of a pillar.
Malkoran's Shade turned its glowing eyes toward Aerion, raising both hands to summon a devastating blizzard.
Aerion pushed his hands forward, releasing the singularity.
A beam of pure, unadulterated, blindingly bright holy light, thicker than a tree trunk and vibrating with divine resonance erupted from his palms. It struck the massive Shade dead center.
The reaction was apocalyptic. The dark magic of the Necromancer violently violently clashed with the pure, eradicating holy light. The Shade shrieked, a horrifying, multi layered sound of a thousand trapped souls being simultaneously burned.
The entity tried to push forward, trying to force its necrotic blizzard through the beam, but Aerion's 590 point Magicka pool was an endless ocean of fuel.
Aerion simply intensified the beam, walking slowly, deliberately forward.
The holy light overwhelmed the darkness. The shadowy form of Malkoran's Shade began to violently boil, the black smoke turning white and evaporating into the air. With one final, deafening, echoing wail, the massive entity violently imploded, dissolving entirely into a pile of fine, gray ash upon the dais.
Aerion cut the magic, dropping to one knee, panting heavily. The sheer exertion of projecting that much concentrated holy energy had finally taxed his stamina.
The inner sanctum was completely, utterly silent. The pulsing, sickly purple light of the Necromancer's wards was gone, replaced entirely by the brilliant, steady, pure white light emanating from the Dawnbreaker on the pedestal.
Jenassa stepped out from behind the pillar, her breath pluming in the cold air. She sheathed her weapons, wincing slightly as she rolled her right shoulder. A glancing blow from the Shade's frost magic had left a nasty, dark bruise and a patch of severe frostbite on her upper arm.
Aerion stood up, noticing her wince. He raised his left hand, casting a warm, highly efficient Grand Healing spell. The golden light washed over both of them, instantly knitting the bruised tissue, curing the frostbite, and returning a deep, comforting warmth to their chilled bones.
"My thanks, Patron," Jenassa sighed, rolling her fully healed shoulder. "That was... an unpleasantly resilient target."
"The defiler is permanently dead," Aerion confirmed, stepping up onto the dais. "Let us secure the spoils before we address the Prince."
Aerion knelt beside the charred, mortal corpse of Malkoran. He began a rapid, systematic search of the dark robes.
Nestled securely in a hidden leather pouch tied to the Necromancer's belt, Aerion found exactly what he was hoping for.
He pulled out five massive, flawless Black Soul Gems. They pulsed with a deep, dark, sinister purple light, indicating they were completely filled with Grand level human souls. It was a macabre, horrific treasure, but pragmatically, it was incredibly valuable for high tier enchanting.
Beneath the gems, he found a heavy coin purse.
[Gold Acquired: 500 Septims. Current Septims: 79,701]
[Items Acquired: Black Soul Gem (Filled) x5]
[Inventory Weight Increased by 0.08 KG. Current Weight: 73.92 / 500 KG]
He seamlessly absorbed the items into his spatial void, standing back up.
Meanwhile, Jenassa was conducting her own efficient sweep of the sanctum floor. She moved among the scattered, rusted weapons and the ash piles, occasionally kneeling to inspect the physical, desecrated corpses of the Imperial and Stormcloak soldiers Malkoran had used for his rituals.
She returned to the dais a few moments later, holding a surprisingly heavy, blood stained leather pouch.
"The soldiers carried their pay," Jenassa reported pragmatically, holding the pouch out to Aerion. "Six hundred and fifty septims total. A grim harvest."
Aerion took the pouch. He mentally transferred 500 of the septims into his digital inventory.
[Gold Acquired: 500 Septims. Current Septims: 80,201]
He then handed the physical pouch, still containing 150 gold coins, back to the Dark Elf.
"A grim harvest indeed," Aerion agreed smoothly. "Keep the remainder, Jenassa. Consider it hazard pay for facing down a Necromancer's soul in close quarters."
Jenassa's crimson eyes widened slightly in surprise. She weighed the heavy pouch in her hand, offering a deep, respectful bow. "You are generous, Patron. Thank you."
With the looting complete, there was only one objective remaining in the room.
Aerion turned his golden eyes toward the beautifully carved, pristine white stone pedestal. Resting atop it, radiating a blinding, pure white light that chased all shadows from the room, was the legendary artifact. The Dawnbreaker.
The moment Aerion stepped toward the pedestal, the ambient sound in the room vanished
Meridia's booming, telepathic voice detonated in his skull once more.
"THE DEFILER IS VANQUISHED," Meridia declared, her voice ringing with absolute, triumphant satisfaction. "THE CORRUPTION HAS BEEN BURNED FROM MY HALLS. I MAY FINALLY ENTER MY OWN TEMPLE FREELY ONCE MORE. YOU HAVE DONE WELL, MORTAL."
Aerion stopped just inches from the glowing sword.
"NOW," Meridia commanded. "TAKE THE DAWNBREAKER FROM ITS PEDESTAL. CLAIM YOUR REWARD, AND BECOME MY INSTRUMENT OF LIGHT."
Aerion reached out, his hand hovering over the golden sunburst crossguard.
"Patron, wait," Jenassa interrupted, her voice tight with genuine concern. She took a step forward, looking at the blinding artifact. "Is this truly the right choice? Binding yourself to a Daedric Prince by taking her weapon... it is a heavy chain to wear. Are you certain?"
Aerion looked over his shoulder at his loyal bodyguard. He offered her a calm, incredibly reassuring smile.
"Do not worry, Jenassa," Aerion replied softly. "Just trust me. I know exactly how to navigate this negotiation."
Aerion turned back, grasped the hilt of the Dawnbreaker, and pulled it forcefully from the stone pedestal.
The reaction was instantaneous. The blade erupted.
A blinding, overwhelming flash of pure white light instantly filled the entire cavernous sanctum, entirely erasing Jenassa, the dead bodies, and the stone walls from his vision.
The familiar, stomach churning sensation of astral projection seized him.
When the light cleared, Aerion found his consciousness hovering once again in the freezing, thin air of the upper atmosphere, miles above the continent of Skyrim.
Floating directly in front of him was the massive, burning sphere of Meridia's divine presence.
"MALKORAN IS VANQUISHED," Meridia proclaimed, her voice echoing across the empty sky. "THE TRAPPED SOULS HAVE BEEN RELEASED, AND THE DEAD OF SKYRIM MAY FINALLY REMAIN AT REST, AS IS THE NATURAL ORDER. ALL OF THIS HAS COME TO PASS BECAUSE OF YOU. YOU HAVE HERALDED A NEW DAY THAT IS DAWNING ACROSS THIS MISERABLE LAND."
Aerion remained silent, hovering patiently. He knew the dialogue tree was progressing almost the same as like in the game.
"NOW," the Daedric Prince continued, the burning sphere flaring brightly. "TAKE THE MIGHTY DAWNBREAKER. YOU SHALL BE MY CHAMPION. YOU SHALL CONTINUE TO PURGE CORRUPTION FROM THE DARK, FORGOTTEN CORNERS OF THIS WORLD. WIELD MY BLADE IN MY NAME, MORTAL, SO THAT MY INFLUENCE MAY GROW AND MY GLORY MAY BE KNOWN TO ALL."
Aerion's analytical mind quickly reviewed the dialogue options he remembered from the game. He could grovel and accept enthusiastically, he could remain silent, or he could offer a defiant, pragmatic rejection of her religious zealotry while still keeping the sword.
He chose the pragmatic defiance. It was the only response that fit his overarching cover story and tactical goals.
"I will accept the Dawnbreaker, Princess of Light," Aerion projected his thoughts clearly, his tone firm and devoid of worship. "And I will gladly use its power to incinerate any necrotic filth or corrupted dead that cross my path. However, I must be exceptionally clear. I am a scholar and a warrior, not a prophet. I will not spread your religion across the holds. I will not preach your name in the streets. Doing so would only invite the wrath of the Thalmor Justiciars, the Vigilants of Stendarr, and every other paranoid faction in this province to hunt me down. My blade is yours against the dark, but my voice remains my own."
A heavy, tense silence filled the sky. The burning sphere of light flickered slightly, processing the mortal's sheer, unadulterated audacity. To directly refuse a mandate of worship from a Daedric Prince was usually grounds for immediate smiting.
But Meridia was nothing if not pragmatic in her hatred of the undead.
A loud, deeply arrogant, echoing "Hmph" vibrated through the clouds.
"IT MATTERS NOT," Meridia dismissed his defiance with cosmic indifference. "A PLANT CARES FOR NOTHING OTHER THAN THE LIGHT THAT BRINGS IT THE WARMTH OF THE SUN. IT DOES NOT NEED TO KNOW THE NAME OF THE STAR."
The light pulsed, shifting into a warmer, highly intrigued hue.
"AS YOU CARRY THE DAWNBREAKER, SO WILL MY LIGHT TOUCH THIS WORLD, WHETHER YOU PREACH MY NAME OR NOT," Meridia declared. Then, her voice dropped into a lower, deeply curious register. "HOWEVER... IT IS A PROFOUND ANOMALY. EVEN UNTIL NOW, AS YOU STAND BEFORE ME YET AGAIN, I STILL CANNOT READ THE FABRIC OF YOUR SOUL. YOUR ESSENCE IS SHIELDED FROM MY GAZE BY FORCES UNKNOWN."
Aerion maintained a perfect internal poker face. The system's transmigration shielding was holding flawlessly against divine intrusion.
"BUT SUCH MYSTERIES MATTERS LITTLE," Meridia concluded, the sphere burning with renewed intensity. "SUCH AN ENIGMA ONLY BRINGS ME ENDLESS EXCITEMENT FOR WHAT IS TO COME. GO NOW, MY CHAMPION. BURN AWAY THE SHADOWS."
A second blinding flash of white light exploded from the sphere, instantly consuming his vision.
The freezing sky vanished. The sensation of falling rushed over him, and his boots slammed violently against solid, snow covered stone.
Aerion blinked, his golden eyes adjusting rapidly to the crisp, freezing afternoon sunlight.
He was no longer in the dark, suffocating depths of the catacombs. He was standing directly at the foot of the colossal Statue of Meridia, right beside the stone pedestal where the geometric Beacon still rested.
The heavy, physical weight of the Dawnbreaker was resting comfortably in his right hand, the golden crossguard gleaming in the sun.
"Patron!"
Aerion turned his head. Jenassa was standing a few feet away, her weapons sheathed, looking absolutely, thoroughly bewildered. Lupin was sitting by her boots, shaking snow from his fur with a confused yip.
The Dark Elf assassin looked from the towering statue, to the Dawnbreaker in his hand, and then down at her own boots.
"By the Ancestors, what just happened?" Jenassa asked, her voice laced with profound shock and a complete loss of spatial awareness. "One moment we were standing deep inside the inner sanctum, staring at an empty pedestal... then there was a flash of light so bright it burned my retinas... and boom. We are suddenly standing outside, miles above the temple below."
Aerion looked down at the legendary Daedric artifact humming in his hand, a highly satisfied, arrogant smirk touching the corner of his lips. "The Princess of Light is a deeply theatrical entity, Jenassa," Aerion replied smoothly, turning the flawless blade to catch the sun. "She apparently felt that making us walk all the way back out through the crypts was beneath the dignity of her new champion."
_____________________________
[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 420/420 Stamina: 420/420 Magicka: 590/590
Level: 103
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 62/29/89), Restoration (Healing/Purify(+1)) (Level 76/36), Alteration (Level 35), Alteration (Level 20), Illusion (Level 42), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning) (Level 37/MAX), Persuasion(+1) (Level 30), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 41), One Handed (Level 85), Two Handed (Level 65), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 66), Light Armor (Level 53), Block (Level 70), & Pickpocket (Level 8)
Shouts: Fus (Force), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), Feim (Fade), & Su (Air)
[Inventory Panel]
1x Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Mammoth Tusk, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Dragonstone, Golden Staff of Flames, Parchment Rolls Of Mammoths Farm And Loan, Ebony Claw, Orcish Dagger, Jagged Crown, The Mirror, Glass Sword, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Reanimate Corpse Tome, Staff of Lightning, Deed to Tundra Homestead, Garnet, Sapphire, & Ruby
2x Potion Of Ultimate Magicka, Common Soul Gem (Empty), Black Soul Gem (Empty), & Elven Sword
3x Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, & Common Soul Gem (Filled)
4x Potions of Minor Magicka, Spider Eggs, & Lesser Soul Gem (Filled)
5x Lesser Soul Gem (Filled)
8x Iron Arrows, Ancient Nord Arrows, & Black Soul Gems (Filled)
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
Weight: 73.92 KG / 510 KG
Septims: 80,201