THE BATTLE OF DUSTMAN'S CAIRN
From the Journal of Lutherus Sotasius. raate of Entry: Last Seed, 28th, 4E, 201.
It was a huge spirit lifter for Lutherus, to see his friend Faendal again. The two friends hugged at the gates of Whiterun, after their reunion. "Ahh! How are you, you old salt?!" Asked Lutherus, cheerfully. "Made you a Companion eh? Things must be bad! Haha!"
"Ha! Yes well, someone's gotta look after you!" Retorted Faendal, cheerfully. Farkas, although happy the Companions had set up this meeting to make Lutherus' day, interjected.
"Sorry to break this up you two, but we've ground to cover. To Dustman's Cairn."
"Yes, of course." Said Faendal.
"Sorry, Farkas." Apologised Lutherus. The three stuck to the main road as they left Whiterun. Being armed to the teeth, and in clad armour they had no run-ins with Bandit's or any other perversions of their duties, all the way to Dustman's Cairn, which from the outside appeared as an ancient tomb. On the way, Lutherus and Faendal did nothing but chat. Farkas tuned out, despite the annoyance of the two chatterboxes behind him, he knew the sting of being apart from a significant friend. The three stopped for lunch at the foot of Dustman's Cairn, Lutherus happily providing Bread, Cheese, Ale as well as boiled treats for their consumption. As they chowed down, Farkas decided to openly discuss the new recruit's preference in combat.
"Well, between me and Faendal." Began Lutherus, taking a swig from his Ale. "He's the most experienced with the bow. Finest accuracy I've ever seen."
"Okay, so we have our Archer. What about you?" Asked Farkas to Lutherus.
"Heh...well...fighting's not really my strongest point." Said Lutherus, nervously.
"But you subjugated Lemkil with your fists! Surely that's something." Replied Farkas. "What about that Mace you carry? Any good?"
"Well I can swing it, if that's what you mean."
"Good enough. Just make sure you swing at the enemies heads and you'll do fine." Finished Farkas. "Alright. Faendal, give me your sword and shield. Stay back and keep those arrows firing. When you run out, shout me and I'll give you your stuff back."
"Alright." Said Faendal, handing over his sword and shield.
"Okay, lets go!" Said Farkas, leading the two into the Dustman's Cairn.
The ancient tomb was dimly lit, but afforded the three more visibility than the encounter at Redoran's Retreat. The three pushed into the first room, down from the entrance. Farkas spotted a decayed, mummified body on the ground. "Draugr." He said, unsurprisingly after a closer inspection. "Keep your wits about you, boys. Someone's been digging here, too." He added, noting there were two pickaxes in the vicinity, but without their owners. "Get that chest open, Faendal." He said, pointing to a large chest on the side of a table in the main room. Faendal pried the chest open, using his dagger as a wedge.
"What's in there?" Asked Farkas.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Whoever's been here has obviously done some looting." He replied, shutting the chest. The three moved on, deeper into the tomb. They passed a part of the corridor, partially caved in to find a room full of resting Draugr. Well, most were resting anyway.
"Get your weapon ready! Draugr!" Called Farkas, pulling his mighty two-handed sword from his back. A walking Draugr spotted the intruders, and came at them with a ancient axe. Two others joined and before the three Companions knew it, they were surrounded on all sides apart from behind. "Get back you two! Now!" Shouted Farkas, Lutherus and Faendal instantly obliging. Farkas grasped his sword and swung at the Draugr, beneath the knee. The blade of his sword gracefully cut through the rotting Draugr flesh and bone, like a knife through butter, sending all three to the floor. "Let's move on." Farkas said, content with his kill.
The Companions continued to navigating the complex, winding tomb's corridor, until they happened upon of all things, a door. Farkas moved closer to check. "Hmm. This door's been installed very recently. This isn't ancient. Something, or someone is behind here that they don't want exposed, whoever they are." He mentioned, putting a foot to the door and breaking it down. The door concealed another partially collapsed hallway, completely coated with cobwebs, leading deeper into the tomb. The three eventually found their way to a larger chamber, fitted with overwatch positions, a perfect spot for Faendal to lay in wait of potential attackers. Farkas ordered him to keep watch, as Lutherus and he went downstairs to investigate. "They got a damn fully functioning Enchanting Table here." Mentioned Farkas, observing the modern installations in the room. Noticing a room with an opened gate portcullis guarding it, Lutherus checked it out. Inside was a troth of several different elixirs. Magicka, Health, Stamina, and numerous other miscellaneous potions. He pulled one potion from the stand, unintentionally triggering a lever, bringing down the portcullis behind him, trapping him there.
"HELP!" Shouted Lutherus. "I'M TRAPPED!" Farkas hurried to help him.
"What did you do?!" He asked.
"Nothing! The bloody thing came down as soon as I grabbed some potions!"
"Damn! Faendal! Keep your bow ready lad, I smell a trap."
Farkas was right. The sound of the portcullis had alerted some unfriendly visitors. Within seconds, several unknown assailants surrounded Farkas, five to one. "You should of never come here, Companion scum!" Said one of the men. Farkas drew his sword, preparing for what could be his final fight. Then, something happened that neither Lutherus, or Faendal expected. Farkas dropped to his knees, growling hard. His legs, arms, head, and eventually his entire body started to malphorm into something else. A beast of immense proportion.
The intruders that previously outnumbered Farkas, were now being torn, limb by limb in front of the stunned Lutherus and Faendal. The intruders desperately tried to fight back, but it was hopeless. In a matter of seconds, the room was covered in strewn body parts, and painted red with blood. Farkas flipped a switch on his end, now back in his original form, and returned to the now free, but completely at a loss for words Lutherus. "I hope I didn't scare you." Said Farkas.
"Wha...what...wh...wha" Repeated Lutherus, sheet white at the gore that surrounded him.
"Breathe, lad. It's only a bit of blood."
"What was THAT?!" Asked Faendal, rejoining the others.
"A blessing." Replied Farkas. "A temporary transformation, that allows the Companions to become as strong as wild animals." The reality of what Farkas was saying dawned on the two new recruits.
"Are...are you going to turn into werewolves?!" They asked, panicked.
"No. This much power is only entrusted by members of 'The Circle'. Companion Elite." Said Farkas. "Now, get your bearings together, we still got the Draugr to worry about."
"Speaking of which." Said Lutherus. "Who were these people? Bandits?"
"Silver Hand Mercenaries." Replied Farkas. "Sworn enemies of the Companions. Werewolf Hunters."
"And this is their lair?"
"No. The Sliver Hand are all over Skyrim, this is just another one of their chosen outposts. I dread to think what else were going to uncover here. Now, come on guys." Farkas said, leading the two deeper into the tomb. They continued on, engaging more Silver Hand members on the way. "Search their bodies for disease ailments. Might come in useful." Said Farkas, observing more of the recently dispatched. The Companions pressed on, further into the tomb, encountering, and annihilated Draugr and Silver Hand alike along the way. Lutherus traded one of his axes he picked up earlier, for a more sturdier, although slightly damaged Iron Shield from one of the deceased. He found himself much more able to carry it, this time around. They entered a darker corridor, Lutherus leading them down a flight of stairs.
"STOP!" Called Farkas to Lutherus. "Booby trap! Be careful!" Surely enough, at Lutherus' feet he saw a pressure plate, and remembering the incident at Embershard Mine, wasn't going to see what the pressure plate did. He carefully meandered around it, as did Farkas and Faendal. Two more Silver Hand Mercenaries attacked, but were cut down with ease.
"Wait a minute, look at this." Said Lutherus, examining one of the dead.
"Look: 'Songs of the Return - Volume 56.' I've seen this book on these guys four times before. What does it mean, Farkas?"
"Volume 56 is the Final Tale of Chrion. The traditional legend of Ysgramor, and his Five Hundred Companions."
"Ysgramor? The original harbinger of the Companions?" Asked Faendal.
"Very good, new blood. Precisely. Ysgramor was our only leader. They must think this will help them to find Wuuthrad before we do. Come on, we still got lots to do." Farkas led the two to another set of doors, this time a lot more concise with the tomb's dilapidated state.
"This must be how far the Silver Hand was able to get." Said Faendal, noting that the door hadn't been touched, dust still lingered on it. Farkas touched the door.
"You ready, Companions?" He said, anticipating an epic battle on the other side.
"Yeah!" Came the rousing response from Lutherus and Faendal. Farkas carefully opened the door, disappointed that the expected battle he wanted, wasn't there. Instead, he saw the Draugr mercilessly pulling apart the Silver Hand, piece by piece.
"Don't waste your arrows Faendal. Let the bastards rot." Said Farkas, completely unfazed by the battle taking place underneath him. The three finally cut their way to a large, much more expanded crypt, very deep in the tomb. Darkness surrounded the entire area, with very little light being offered. Even so, this still wasn't the end of the tomb - nor the glorious battle Farkas was anticipating. "Damn, how long does this place go on for?" Said Farkas, as the Companions entered a waterlogged cave. After dispatching a Skeever family, Frostweb Spiders and finally a few more Draugr, they approached another burial site, completely deserted but did contain, at the very end, a new, much more ornately and archaic door.
"This, HAS to be it. I can feel it." Said Farkas, once again readying himself for an epic battle. "Get everything you need ready for this coming fight. This one's going to be tough." He finished, readying his two-handed sword. He grabbed the door. "Let's go Companions! Honour before Duty!" The three brazenly entered, and were greeted by a grand hall. No sign of the Draugr, yet, and the Silver Hand had either smartly retreated owing to their losses, or had been killed in combat here. Either way, the hall appeared ominous to the Companions.
"This is spooky as Oblivion." Said Faendal.
"Steel your courage, Bosmer." Replied Farkas. "You haven't seen anything yet."
"If I may speak so bluntly Farkas. I have seen peoples intestines ripped from them, a Man turn into Werewolf, The Walking Dead...I don't there's much left on Tamriel that I haven't seen yet."
"Heh, cocky bastard." Chucked Farkas, as the three navigated deeper into the Crypt.
"I think I found it!" Shouted Lutherus. "The fragment of Wuuthrad!"
"Let me see!" Urged Farkas, taking the piece from Lutherus. He examined it with great care.
"This is definitely it, a fragment of Wuuthrad! Well done Lutherus! Hold onto it, let's get-" The trio were disturbed by the bursting of tombs inside the crypt. "DRAUGR! Make ready Companions!" Shouted Farkas, charging to battle. The Draugr amassed, and swarmed the Crypt and the Companions in droves.
"I'm out of arrows!" Cried Faendal, as he charged them with a flimsy dagger. Farkas tossed his sword and shield to Faendal, during a brief lull in the action as the Draugr regrouped, and attacked again.
"Do not falter, Companions!" Cried Farkas to the others, surrounded by massive waves of Draugr. "HONOUR BEFORE DUTY!!!"
Table of Contents
Comments
"A blessing." Replied Farkas. "A temporary transformation, that allows the Companions to become as strong as wild animals."
I wonder if you have both Farkas and Vilkas change as werewolves much. To have Farkas say it... more