A changeling's visit to Skyrim

“This is simply fascinating.” Tolfdir said for the tenth time since the five of them had set off down the tunnels. “What I can’t understand is why this area would be sealed off, and I’ve never seen anything like this in Nordic ruins before; I mean just look at all these coffins!” he gestured to the numerous metal boxes that lined the walls of the circular chamber.

“You haven’t been into a lot of Nordic ruins, have you?” Onmund said with an incredulous stare.

“Too right.” Stross added “Every one that Fen and I went into were full of zombie- err… draugr, that tried to hack us to pieces.”

Suddenly the world went still and a familiar green glow froze everyone and everything. A man in white and red robes appeared in front of Stross and spoke in a cryptic tone. “Hold mage, and listen well. Know that you have set into motion a chain of-“

“WAAAAHHHH!” Stross screamed like a girl as he flung a barrage of fireballs at the ghostly entity. Each of the five flaming orbs passed straight through the man and impacted on the far wall behind him.

“Are you done?” he said calmly with a brow raised.

“Yeah, I’m good now. Who are you?”

“Who I am is not important. What you must know is that you have set in motion a chain of events that cannot be stopped.” He explained “As none of this was your fault, judgment has not been passed; you had no way of knowing. However, judgment will be passed on your actions to come, and how you deal with the dangers and trials ahead of you.”

“What do you mean? What trials?” Stross questioned, desperately wanting to know more about this odd turn of events.

“That is not for us to tell you. You changeling, and you alone, have the potential to prevent disaster. Take great care; know that the fate of many rests with you. The Psijic Order will be watching, and for what it is worth, we believe in you.” he said before fading away, however as Stross was pondering what he meant he reappeared momentarily to give one last heads up. “Oh and… Tolfdir is about to do something stupid.”

“Perhaps we should get these coffins open.” Tolfdir’s voice rang out as the world went back into motion.

“What!? Nnnnnooooo!” Stross dove forward and shoved Tolfdir out of the way, right as a lid of solid metal would have crushed him.

“Gaaz dilon mel ish!” the draugr wretched through its rotting throat as it stepped out of its tomb and raised an axe. At that instant, every other coffin in the room burst open, their lids falling with loud clangs and their occupants shambling out, raising vicious looking weapons of their own.

The apprentices rushed away from the draugr and stood back to back, readying their spells to fight for their lives against the horde of undead.

“This is why we don’t disturb the dead!” Onmund shouted.

“Back through the tunnels! We need to get out of… here.” Brelyna finished dejectedly as she watched a pair of the draugr collapse the entrance, trapping them inside.

Suddenly a spear of flame pierced through one of the draugr slowly surrounding them, reducing it to ashes, and the one standing beside it soon followed.

“We need to go deeper in! Run!” Stross yelled to them as he threw a third spear and ran for the door leading deeper into the catacombs with Tolfdir.

Outnumbered and with more draugr dropping down from the ceiling, the apprentices saw little alternative and quickly followed.

Deeper and deeper into the depths they fled, more and more draugr rising from their crypts and crawling from the crevices in the walls to join the chase. Every corner they rounded, another of the undead warriors would block their way only to get shoved aside in a panic or hit with one of Stross's spears. Tolfdir attempted to slow the progress of their undead pursuers by collapsing a rickety staircase behind them, yet the corpses simply piled atop one another in an improvised ladder, and soon they would reach the ledge.

“We can’t keep this up forever.” Onmund said as he gasped for breath “There are too many of them.”

“Gah! Unhand me you decomposing filth!” J’zargo spat as he wrestled to get his arm free from a recently disturbed draugr.

Onmund quickly grabbed a metal brazier off the wall and rushed to aid the Kah’jiit. “Hold on J’zargo, I’ve got you. Ancestors forgive me…” he said as he rammed the pointed end of the torch through the draugr’s head, splattering rotting blood everywhere.

“Th-thank you.” J’zargo breathed heavily “That damnable thing refused to part with its treasure.” He held up a gold ring, admiring it for a second before tossing it in a bulging satchel with the many other treasures he’d taken as they ran.

Onmund stared at him for a second before exploding in a fit of righteous anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Even as we run for our lives, all you can think about is how you can profit by robbing the dead!?”

“Hmph, they certainly won’t need it.” J’zargo retorted.

“Boys! Bigger problems!” Brelyna snapped them out of it and drew their attention back to the draugr, which had finally climbed up to them.

“Run... again!” Stross yelled to them as he shot down a large urn hanging from the ceiling. To their fortune, it was indeed filled with oil like he’d hoped. Set ablaze, it caught the horde on fire and slowed them from a lumbering march to a smoldering stumble.

“Oh great. Now what?” Stross heard one of his friends curse from down a narrow hallway.

“This looks to be one of the ancient Nordic puzzles that these kind of tombs are so famous for.” Tolfdir explained as the changeling caught up to them “They were designed to ward off grave robbers… as well as contain the dead within should they ever rise. We’ll have to solve it if we wish to continue forward, and I suggest we hurry.” he said grimly as the footsteps behind them grew louder.

“Oh fuck that. Move.” Stross commanded and marched up to the metal gate impeding their escape.

Rather than try to solve the puzzle to raise the gate, he’d go right through it. He focused his magic into a flame again, condensing it into a small molten blade. Using this tool he began cutting through the bars one by one.

It was taking longer than he thought it would, ancient nord steel was tough after all, and about halfway through the gate one of the pursuing draugr rounded the corner to face them.

A spike of solid ice pierced its torso, sending it staggering back. “Keep going!” Tolfdir yelled as he finished off the weakened draugr with another spike.

As Stross reached the last two bars, three more of the corpses had come at them, the last falling not a foot from where they stood with their backs to a wall. Stross poured on the heat, overcharging his spell to cut through the last bit of metal.

Finally the door was severed and fell to the floor.

“It’s… It’s open!” Stross said as he stumbled through the opening, the others quickly following his lead. He turned around and tried to heft the metal slab back into place, though he was exhausted and his arms and legs felt unusually weak. “Help me get this back up. Hurry!”

Onmund and J’zargo got on either side, and the three of them were easily able to lift the gate back into place. Not a moment too soon either, as the rest of the horde had caught up to them and several were already shoving at the gate.

“Tolfdir… cold!” Stross yelled.

With years of experience as a mage, Tolfdir immediately knew what Stross meant. Using his frost magic he cooled the still molten metal, smelting the door back into place, albeit at an odd angle. Everyone fell back and caught their breath, finally able to relax with their pursuers trapped behind a wall of decorative steel bars.

“Can we please get out of this place now?” Brelyna said, almost on the brink of tears as she helped the others to their feet.

“Indeed, I believe we’ve all had enough adventure for one day.” Tolfdir agreed as he led them forward “It seems this is the only way out.” he said as he opened a large metal door.

“I don’t like this, it feels wrong in here.” Stross told them, clinging to Brelyna’s shoulder in order to keep standing as the exhausted group walked into the large room softly pulsating with a blue light from further in.

“Well would you look at that?” Tolfdir gazed in astonishment at the room’s massive centerpiece, and the source of the blue light.

A giant ball of what appeared to be stone sat within a field of blue magical energy, and four pillars surrounded it as it filled the entire chamber with its eerie glow. Runes and leylines were carved all across its surface, pulsating energy through the words of some long forgotten language.

But none of that was too important, because there was another big hulking baddie to worry about!

A rasping snarl grabbed everyone’s attention, and whipping around in surprise or slowly turning in dread, each of them saw what lurked behind them.

Sitting in a throne facing the mystyrious orb, was a draugr larger than any that had chased them through the catacombs. Adorned in heavy plates of metal and a helmet in the shape of a snarling dragons head, it rose and stepped forward, imposing its terrifying presence upon the entire room as it raised a massive axe in one hand and a giant shield in the other. It took a battle stance and banged its shield as an issue of challenge to those intruding into its domain.

“Okay guys… it’s just one. We can take him.” Onmund said to them, unsure of his words himself.

Stross knew everyone was scared, and with good reason. After all, if Bleak-falls and Ustengrav were any indication of how things worked, the final draugr encountered in the tombs was also the most powerful.

“Fus-“

“Oh Celestia, why’d I have to be right?”

“RO-DAH!” the draugr bellowed, its thu’um shaking the room and knocking everyone to the floor. It followed this up by leaping forward with tremendous speed and swinging its axe in a wide arc. Those caught within range barely had time to get out of the way.

“Keep away from it students, it’s too dangerous to fight head on!” Tolfdir ordered as he fired a pair of ice spikes. The spikes impacted and shattered on the draugr deathlord’s armor, leaving superficial damage at best. Unfazed, it homed in on its nearest target, which happened to be J’zargo.

The Kah’jiit held his ground and fired bolts of lightning at the drauger as it approached. But this did little other than make it flinch and soon it was practically standing on J’zargo’s feet.

But despite this, J’zargo smirked. “Try this on for size.” He said and unleashed a magic palm strike into the draugr’s armored face. J’zargo kept his cocky grin for a second longer before being replaced with a snarl when he realized his paralyzing spell had no effect as well.

The draugr raised its shield and bashed the kah'jiit away, sending him sprawling on the ground.

“Very well then. J’zargo has made a new spell of his own design for just such an occasion!” he got back up and whipped out a scroll. As soon as he read the incantation sketched upon it, J’zargo was coated in a blazing light not unlike Stross’s burning halo. “Behond J’zargo’s undead-slaying explosive flame cloak! Come at J’zargo, brethren!”

The deathlord was more than happy to oblige and charged forward to cleave the kah’jiit a new one, but as soon as it got near, both it and J’zargo erupted in a blast of smoke and fire. The explosion sent the draugr staggering back, and J’zargo flying across the room where he landed on a pile of burial urns, very much unconscious.

The draugr stared for a second and shrugged. With one trespasser down for the count, it turned and raised its axe to face its next opponent.

“I’m not afraid of you!” Onmund yelled and stood at the ready with a sword he’d managed to find, trembling slightly as the deathlord stalked towards him, standing nearly two heads taller.

“Zun- HAAL-VIIK!” the draugr shouted the thu’um of disarming, and Onmund’s weapon was ripped from his hand by the unseen force.

“Oh shit.” Onmund started to back down and looked for anywhere to run as the deathlord raised its axe.

“NO!”

Suddenly the draugr was caught in a frozen gale, ice began to form on its rotting skin and it turned away from Onmund to face its new challenger.

“You shall not harm my students, monster!” Tolfdir fixed it with a glare.

“Bolog aaz, mal lir!” the draugr shouted and brought its axe down hard on Tolfdir. But instead of rending him in two, the balde harmlessly deflected off of his arm with a metallic clang.

Tolfdir smirked and rolled up his sleeves, revealing that the skin on his arms had turned to solid metal. “Iron flesh, bitch!” he said before slamming a punch into the draugr’s jaw with a satisfying crack.

He quickly followed it up with an uppercut and a series of bone-breaking jabs to the deathlord’s ribs. The ancient leather that bound the armor together couldn't handle the snap-freezing temperature, and many of the heavy plates fell off. With its newfound mobility, the draugr immediately tried to swat Tolfdir away with its massive shield, followed by an attempt to split him in half with its axe again, but the elderly wizard was able to backstep and weave around for another round of punching, each blow imparting a bit of magic that froze solid any flesh it hit.

One final uppercut and the deathlord fell to the floor, flat on its back as Tolfdir’s iron flesh wore off.

“Hmpf, that’s that. Is everyone alright?” Tolfdir said as he allowed himself to brethe normally again.

“Behind you!” Stross yelled, trying and failing to conjure another flame spear.

Tolfdir spun around, but too late. The deathlord radiated with the same cold glow as the giant orb, with its frozen flesh and damaged structure magically restored from the savage beating, it now loomed over him. Off his guard and without even a second to react or defend himself, the deathlord easily crushed him into the floor with its shield.

The old mage let out a strangled gasp to accompany the sound of snapping bones, and could only lay there helplessly as the draugr left its shield on top of him, pinning him to the ground as it turned its attention to Brelyna.

“Get away!” the dark elf screamed, letting loose a cone of fire as she tried to maintain her distance from the hulking monstrosity.

The flames licked at the draugr’s skin, but with the orb restoring it, fire did little to stop its approach as it stomped ever closer to her. Backed into a corner and with her magika finally depleted, Brelyna could only cower as the deathlord raised its axe over its head. She shut her eyes tight and waited for the killing blow.

There was a woosh as the axe carved through the air, a sickening crunch as the blade cleaved through flash and bone, and a squelch of blood that reduced to a slow drip seconds after. Yet Brelyna felt no pain, opening her eyes… she found the reason why.

“St- Stross? Stross, oh by the gods…” Brelyna managed to gasp out at what she saw.

Before her was the changeling she’d met and befriended just yesterday, and he had thrown himself in front of an axe to save her. A sickly black substance flowed steadily out of the horrendous wound carved through his torso, all the way from his right shoulder to where the axe finally came to a rest just shy of his abdomen. The huge bleeding chasm nearly separated his arm and lung cavity from the rest of his body entirely.

The draugr tried to rip its axe out, but it was lodged too deeply.

The changeling coughed up another mouthful of the sticky black substance as he tried to say something. He attempted to summon enough energy for a spell, but what little came flickered out.

As a last resort, Stross pulled the enchanted dagger from his bag, suddenly quite grateful that he’d not yet turned it over. Grasping with his functioning arm despite the enchantment on the blade carving into his palm he rammed it straight into the draugr’s throat.

Retching in surprise, the deathlord grasped the handle of its axe and flung Stross across the room along with its weapon. With a moment to spare it ripped the dagger from its throat so it could be healed by the orb. Whether the blade sensed a hand other than that of its chosen wielder, or if the two magics simply didn't mix, the dagger's enchantment lashed out and tore the draugr's hand off as soon as it began to heal, leaving a gnarled stump in its place.

Seeing an opportunity, Stross crawled his way over to where the blade had fallen, feeling his legs go numb as a trail of blood marked his path.

The deathlord wasn't about to allow anything however, and as soon as Stross's fingers had wrapped around the handle, it grabbed him by the throat with its remaining hand, squeezing and crunching the changeling's neck scales within its fist.

"Oh no you don't! Suck on that!" Onmund roared as he drove the sword of ancient steel into the draugr's spine. Whatever magic had been healing the deathlord had already been counteracted by the enchanted dagger. Susceptible to injury and now crippled, it toppled to the ground.

"Yol- TOR-SHUUL!" it bellowed and a wave of flame washed over Onmund.

On fire, Onmund screamed and dropped on the floor, rolling around attempting to smother the flames.

Stross made full use of the chance his friend gave him, knowing he had to finish it now. Gripping the dagger, he crawled his way over to the prone undead and began stabbing into the deathlord over and over, despite the further injury he was causing himself from the mere back and forth of the stabbling motion.

Finally the deathlord went limp and the blue light faded from its eyes.

If Stross wasn't spent before, he certainly was now. His body broken and his energy reserves depleted from all the spells he'd used, he couldn't even see straight. Brelyna immediately ran to help him in any way she could when he collapsed sideways onto the hard ground. As Onmund patted out the last embers on his cloak and went to heave the shield off of Tolfdir, the dunmer looked Stross over, afraid to even touch him for fear of harming him more.

“Stross… oh gods. You- you’re- oh gods what am I supposed to do? This is- I can’t- there’s no way I can fix this.” She sobbed, having quite a panic attack over just what she was supposed to do until Stross weakly grabbed hold of her.

“My bag.” He gurgled “Potions… and bandages. Help the others first… get them… back to the college. I’ll be fine.” he managed to say before spewing another mouthful of blood into the air.

“Stross! No, stay with me. Stay w… m…” he heard Brelyna shout as the world started to go black and his hearing began to fade “...ou can’t die… please don… …st hold on… …ve you.”

None of what he could still hear made any kind of sense to him at that point, but it all felt so soothingly warm and comforting. “Goodnight Fen.” He thought to himself as his world faded away into darkness.