Light was falling and stars beginning to appear by the time Odahviing landed just before the imposing edifice of Skuldafn. If not for the fact that it was perfectly round, Dardeh might have thought they had simply landed in a rocky clearing; but it was in fact a dragon burial mound, capped by heavy stones. Dardeh jumped down from Odahviing’s neck. After having been hunkered down on the warm back of the great beast, the bitter cold mountain air took his breath away like jumping into the icy waters near Winterhold, and he shivered. He turned to look at the dragon once more.
“This is as far as I can take you,” Odahviing rumbled. “Krif voth ahkrin. I will look for your return. Or Alduin’s.”
Dardeh nodded. “Thank you, Odahviing. I will see you again, have no doubt of that,” he replied, his breath puffing out in curls of frost. He could have sworn that the beast was sneering, or grinning.
Doubt me, do you? I got you to bring me here, didn’t I? And why was that the case if not that my Thu’um was strong enough to make you think I might just surpass him.
He watched the dragon hurl itself back into the skies and circle away out of view beyond the nearby peaks, and then turned back to consider the task before him. It was quiet, almost eerily so, aside from a faint, constant hissing of the sort one might hear approaching a waterfall but not close enough to tell exactly what the sound was. He sighed.
Ah, listen to me, all puffed up about how powerful my Voice is. He was right – it was a trick that allowed me to trap him, and I didn’t do it alone. But I’m really and truly alone, right now. He was right; this Skuldafn isn’t reachable by foot, or on horseback. He probably could have dropped me on the top level. I’m sure he could have. But this is clearly some kind of test. I need to make it on my own. Nobody else will be coming to bail me out and I have no conjuration magic to use to create a helper. It’s me and this gigantic old place.
Skuldafn truly was enormous, an imposing stone edifice built in the ancient style. It seemed in better repair than many of the old barrows he’d visited, likely because looters couldn’t reach it. He could see at least five different landing levels to climb through to the top, a platform edged with enormous carved pillars similar to some he’d seen at the old redoubts in the Reach. There were arched openings in several places that looked as though they might contain iron doors. The freestanding stone archway just before him held the remnants of a tattered red banner with the image of a Dragon Priest. This was an ancient fane, indeed.
A long way to go, and who knows what I’ll find at the top? And then what? I go to the land of the dead. Will I ever return? Can anyone? Or am I just jumping from the back of one dragon into the maw of another?
He stood for a moment longer as the cold began creeping into his armor, staring at the huge edifice in dismay, not wanting to be there but knowing that there was no other thing for him to do but to move forward.
You can do this, Dar. I have faith in you, my sweet boy. Go save the souls he has not yet consumed.
The sweet voice was so vivid and nearby that Dardeh jumped, and looked around for his mother. Then he shook his head. This wasn’t a dream, and his mother’s shade was nowhere near him. Still, he had to smile.
“Thanks, Ma,” he murmured, and stepped forward through the first stone archway.
And then it began.
The first was just a common draugr, but it was wielding a two-handed sword. It came rushing up at him from a slope to his left and swung hard. Dardeh sidestepped as best he could, but in his heavy armor he wasn’t quick. The glancing blow revealed that the sword was a sword of ice, and it hurt even more in the cold air than it might have otherwise. Dardeh grunted, and then stumbled backward a step before he was able to push himself forward and take down the ancient man with a few efficient swings of his new double-edged sword.
An arrow thwacked into the ground next to him, and he looked up and to his left. A draugr was taking aim at him again from the edge of the first landing above him. He dashed forward through a thick stone archway and would have bolted for the stairs to charge except that another sound erupted from behind him, a familiar keening wail, and flames enveloped him.
“Skuldafn fen kos dinok!” the dragon screamed. Skuldafn will be your death.
“Damn it all!” Dardeh yelped, running for the slight shelter of the second stone archway, dodging arrows and tossing healing spells on himself as fast as he could. It might. It might well be my death, but not quite yet. He swiveled in time to see the dragon make another pass toward him, and Shouted: “JOOR – ZAH FRUHL!”
The dragon thundered to ground in the courtyard, screaming its rage; but Dardeh rushed around it to its back and started slashing furiously, his enchanted blade doing great damage to the beast while it turned its head and snapped, trying unsuccessfully to stop him. It wasn’t the most powerful dragon he’d ever fought, by any measure. He was surprised, in fact, when the dragon shrieked and burst into flames long before Dragon Rend had released its hold. Still, it had been strong enough to hurt him, and he was grateful for a moment to recover. Well, at least I’m not cold any more.
Dardeh stood, panting, absorbing the dragon’s power but trying to spot the draugr archer he knew was there above him. It was taunting him, waving its bow around, growling words in some ancient language Dardeh couldn’t decipher over the hissing roar coming from somewhere far above them both. He ran back to the cover of the stone archway, pulled out his bow and knelt for balance, aiming carefully, then fired at the creature. It took three ebony arrows to kill the draugr but he was glad he’d stayed well back. He was already burned, and tired, and he had no doubt that there were more to come.
He pushed forward, up the first set of stairs, and turned right. He’d barely taken a deep breath, though, before a Shout pushed him off-balance. He looked ahead and saw another draugr, this one wearing a helmet with sharply pointed horns, running toward him from the open courtyard just ahead. Draugr Deathlords were a great deal stronger than common draugr, Dardeh knew; and his guess about this one was proven accurate as it rushed forward swinging an ancient greatsword.
Dardeh raised his new sword just in time to block the draugr’s attack, but it was an awkward block, and his shoulder ached at the impact. He straightened and swung his other sword, the lighter dragon slayer. It connected with a shock of its own, this one magical. He’d forgotten about the sword’s enchantment, but was grateful for it now as it staggered the draugr long enough for him to run it through with his double-edged blade.
As he pulled the blade clear of the draugr’s armor an ice spike caught him in the calf. He yelped, and cursed himself for not paying attention. He limped his way toward the Scourge ahead of him, Shouting fire at it, slowing it down just enough to give him time to get close enough to begin attacking. It was beginning to weaken after a few strikes, but Dardeh was still aching from the cold and had little stamina to spare. The draugr raised its hand to fire at him again, but he Shouted it back with Unrelenting Force and watched, amazed, as it disintegrated into a pile of ash at the foot of the stairs beyond.
Herma Mora’s Black Book. Gods, what if I had done that to Ulfric by mistake? They’d have killed me, Roggi, and anyone who ever knew either of us.
He didn’t have time to ponder it more deeply. A scream from above him was accompanied by a great gout of frost, as a second dragon flew overhead. He grabbed his bow and whirled, shooting at it without thinking first. It screamed and flew off to settle atop one of the pillars at Skuldafn’s height. Dardeh blinked in surprise, but turned to his left, where a great double stairway rose to the next level of the complex.
He’d only taken a few steps toward those stairs when an arrow just missed him, followed by an equally-close ice spike from the other side. Two more draugr were above him, atop the wall to his side. He ran toward the stairs, hoping for the cover of their archways, but near-simultaneous Shouts roared at him from ahead and he stumbled backward several steps. He could see the pointed helmets of Deathlords.
Four? At once? I can’t!
Dardeh spun right and bolted for the iron doors in front of him, pushing them open just ahead of another well-placed ice spike and ducking into a short vestibule beyond them.
He found himself in front of a circular staircase, in what looked and sounded like a typical barrow. It wasn’t long before he discovered that there wasn’t much typical about it, and that he still couldn’t move silently in spite of all his practice. Draugr erupted from all parts of the place – above, in a side chamber, and from sarcophagi that burst open at his passage. In the space of ten minutes he fought down two common draugr, two Scourges with their shouts and spells, and one of the Deathlords. That one was nearly his end. Gasping for air, nearly ready to drop, he was grateful once again for the enchantment on his left-hand sword as it limned the Deathlord in the blue of a shock spell, giving him the moment he needed to take it down with his main hand sword.
He crouched and moved as silently as he could up the stairwell, breathing deeply, happy for the deep reserves of stamina that came naturally to him from his Redguard father but cursing the heavy body that he’d inherited from the unknown Nord males on his mother’s side. They almost cancel each other out, sometimes. I’m so tired. The four outside are still there and I’m no better off now than I was before. Worse, maybe, because now I’m more tired than I was. At least I’m not cold. I must have sweat off some serious amounts of weight by now.
The top of the tower was largely empty, save for a chest and some urns. Whichever of the draugr had been resting on this level was one of the five he’d killed below.
He stood, and breathed deeply, and took a drink of water. There were two corridors, each leading to an iron door along the same wall of the tower. These must lead to the platform that ran along the tops of the double stairwell, he thought. I’m closer.
But when he moved through the nearer of the two doors he found himself on a platform that led nowhere at all. Across the way, beyond the double staircase and at about the same height he was currently, he could see the twin of the tower he had just come through, but there was no way to get directly to it.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Dardeh looked across the way and saw the draugr that had been firing at him wandering around aimlessly, not having yet spotted him. He could see another set of stairs rising above and behind them, to what had to be the main temple of Skudalfn. Maybe, he thought, if I drop down from here and run like Oblivion I’ll be able to make it up the stairs and around the corner before they get a good shot at me. Maybe I can make it up those stairs.
He found the nearest place to drop safely down from the ledge he was on, trying to stay as close to cover as he could, and made for the stairs. In to the left stairwell, close against the wall, and up the stairs as silently as he could manage it he crept. There was a ruined tower just to his left; he moved into it to look around and found nothing more than a single chest.
Alright. Time to move.
He stepped out of the tower and around the corner to the left, only to come face to face with a draugr wielding a sword and shield. He was drawing his breath to Shout it away when a Shout from his left knocked him off balance; there was a second draugr there. An arrow clattered to the stones just to his right; looking up and to his right he spotted an archer taking aim at him again.
Move! Just move!
He sprinted as hard as he could, straight ahead, past the draugr with the sword and shield, up the narrow stairs and toward an enormous, arched metal door directly before him. Above it he could see a pillar of brilliant, coruscating light; the hissing, roaring noise he’d heard earlier was clearly coming from that point. There was no time to think about it, though; a Deathlord stood at the edge of the platform to his right, inhaling and readying itself for a Shout.
I can’t afford to be disarmed. I can’t fight four more of them all at once. I have to get up there. I’m sure of it.
The other tower would have to wait.
He pushed the doors open and stepped into Skuldafn Temple.