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You know, Gathrik
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"How can you just sit here and wait? We should be in there!"
A voice carried through the light snow as Rumarin slogged his way through at least a foot of snow, uphill.
"We must gather our strength. Who knows what's inside." A second, deeper more raspy voice answered. An argonian?
"Treasure, that's what. Get off your scaly rump and let's go!" The first voice pleaded.
Looking up at the sound, Rumarin paused, unsure if the people ahead were friendly. Slowly, he walked around an ancient Nord archway, up onto higher ground, revealing a small campfire, and two tents. And the two tenants.
A hooded figure that sat at the fire turned towards him, green scales reflecting the orange glow as he did so. "Hush Salma, we aren't alone."
A young redguard woman sat on a rock not far from the fire, back straightening as he approached. And she was wearing very expensive looking armor.
"Oh, hello." Rumarin let his hand fall from it's halfhearted wave. "I didn't expect to find anyone out here, not because it's late, but because it's Skyrim. The name's Rumarin, by the way."
Something seemed to thaw once he offered his name. Both figures around the fire sitting a little more relaxed.
"Greetings," the one he guessed was Salma said, "I'm Salma, and this is Beem-Ja."
Rumarin made a gesture towards the fire, wondering if it was alright to join them and Salma nodded, gesturing to a spot beside her on the rock.
Setting his pack down, he let his legs stretch out in front of him, glad to be off his feet.
Salma continued, "we should be inside, loading up on treasure!"
"You need to learn to pace yourself," said Beem-Ja.
Salma nudged Rumarin with her elbow. "Worry-scales here thinks we should wait. Don't get any ideas, either," Salma added in a half-joking threat, pointing a finger in his direction. "We were here first."
Rumarin raised his palms, not wanting to do anything to start a fight with two strangers he met on a mountain. "Oh no, by adventuring rights, the spoils of this particular cave are all yours. I was just looking for a place to sleep."
"We do not have an extra tent," Beem-Ja said, "but you are welcome to rest here, if you can."
Salma made a noise of impatience beside him. "I don't care what Beem says. It's high time we get in there and find our fortune."
"So, question, what exactly are you expecting to find? I mean, sure it's a Nord ruin, so draugr, but what else?"
Salma smiled wide, her dark brown eyes gleaming with what Rumarin could only describe as innocent wonder. "Gold, silver? Gems, maybe? Only one way to find out!"
"Well, I'd never turn down a little extra gold. It's late but not too late. I'm up for cave raiding if you are. Provided, I don't have to go in first. Promise you won't laugh, but draugr give me the creeps."
Salma laughed, her eyes crinkling as she did so.
Beem-Ja spoke from opposite the fire. "I admit there is strength in numbers. Perhaps between us…"
"Alright, I'm in," Rumarin made to stand, only to be nearly knocked over by Salma rushing past him.
"Not without us, you aren't!" She declared, running for the ruin. "I'm sure there's enough treasure for everyone. Come on, Beem-Ja. We're going!"
.***.
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.
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"This place is sure to make us rich!" Salma said, excitement evident in her voice as she charged on ahead of them, sword at her side.
"That's the spirit," Rumarin said, offering a half smile. Beem-Ja grunted. Rumarin felt his eyes drawn to the argonian that walked beside him. Something itching at the back of his neck with the way Beem-Ja seemed to be sizing him up. Maybe charging headfirst into a ruin with two strangers wasn't the best plan. Then again, when had he started worrying about that?
The ruin seemed hardly any different from the other Nordic ruins Rumarin had been in. Meaning, ice covered and crawling with spiders and draugr. So far though, they hadn't come across much gold other than a few burial urns and such.
Strangely, the further they went the less populated the ruin became, and quiet seeped in instead. There were no more spiders, even the draugr seemed to be fewer here, as they entered another portion of the ruin that appeared to be shut off from the rest of it. Rusted and aged metal bars blocking an ancient stone door covered in runic markings.
"This is it," Beem-Ja said, running a taloned hand along the wall, more to himself than to either of them. "We've found Gathrik's tomb."
Salma caught Rumarin's eye, confusion evident on her face.
Rumarin threw her a joking smile. "Wow, Gathrik's tomb, huh? The famous Gathrik from the battle of what's his name." He gave a pointed look to Salma, hoping she would catch on and fill the silence. "You know, that Gathrik. Feel free to fill in the blanks at any time ."
Beem-Ja let out a quiet hiss, either in response or irritation. "Well, there must be a way through. Look around!"
Bristling a little at the command, Rumarin wandered off to the far side of the cavern, looking for anything promising. And finding nothing but rock.
Salma had made her way around starting at the opposite side, until they met in the middle. Beem-Ja still focusing intently on the door, seemingly oblivious to them now.
"So," Rumarin whispered to Salma as she approached, "do you know why Beem-Ja is suddenly interested in this Gathrik fellow?"
Salma shook her head. "No. I've never heard him mention it before. I guess this could be a good sign, right? More notable tomb means treasure."
"Right," said Rumarin, completely unconvinced. Beem-Ja was starting to bother him. Not just the commanding attitude, no. Something had been…off.
When he and Salma had finally found the lever to open the gate, Beem-Ja had been downright impatient.
"That's done it! Let's get in there."
Which was fine, Rumarin thought, if only there hadn't simply been another chamber with a single, ominous looking pedestal with an ancient helmet on top.
Salma walked forward, hands on her hips. "Would you look at that!"
Pursuing his lips, Rumarin took a step back. "Okay, so who's going to grab the obviously trapped helmet off that pedestal?"
Salma shrugged, holding out her sword, she swung it with just enough force to knock the helmet off. All three of them held their breath, jumping at the sound of yet another gate opening on the opposite side of the chamber.
"Gathrik awaits us."
"What are you on about, Beem?" Frustration coated Salma's words, with a tinge of weariness. "Let's just find any treasure here and go."
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.
.
If only this Gathrik had just been another dead Nord, or a draugr of some note. No. Just his luck, Gathrik was some kind of undead lich who seemed to be intent on decorating the tomb with Rumarin and Salma's insides. Beem-Ja was suspiciously nowhere to be seen, ducking in and out of sight to shoot lightning when it was convenient . Mages. Rumarin didn't bother to keep the scowl off his face. for all they knew it was because of the fight.
Then as suddenly as the fight had started, it was over.
Another door opened, judging by what he could see, Rumarin guessed that was where the nords had stashed a bunch of gold for Gathrik to take to sovengard.
"Though there!" Salma pointed, "the treasure!" And took off without another glance.
Rumarin shrugged. Not bothering to conjure a bow anymore. Then something tripped him.
Going to push himself up brought a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach. He couldn't move. Paralysis?
Beem-Ja stood over him, teeth glinting in the low light. "Insufferable fool. I should thank you. I knew the girl wouldn't be strong enough to help me kill Gathrik alone."
If Rumarin was capable of making facial expressions through the paralysis, he hoped his expression was one of disdain. Sure, was he more than a little exhausted and afraid for his life? Heart hammering in his ears? Absolutely. But he was also annoyed.
"There's one more thing I need from you. To fully absorb Gathrik's power I require a blood sacrifice."
Beem-Ja loomed closer, pulling Rumarin's arm free and piercing the flesh of his forearm with a claw. "Your blood should be good enough. This will go easier for us both if you don't bother fighting back."
"Beem!" Salma stood in the doorway, "What are you doing? Stop it!"
"Salma," Beem-Ja hesitated, "go back. You don't need to see this."
"No!" With one hit of her shield, Salma shoved Beem-Ja off him.
It felt odd, all the use of his muscles returning to him at once. Almost like a flood of pinpricks after sitting in his hands too long.
With what little Magicka he had, he conjured a sword. The weight of it feeling heavy in his palm, even when it shouldn't.
Salma had backed Beem-Ja into a wall. Her sword raised. When she stopped. Rumarin could see it on the young woman's face. She couldn't do it. Wouldn't do it. Whoever Beem-Ja was to her, guardian, protector, family friend; Rumarin realized with a pang of guilt there was only one way he was walking out of here alive, and not as some undead sacrifice.
Rumarin swallowed. Hoping Salma didn't hate him for what he was about to do, and brought his sword down.
The argonian fell onto the stone. And Salma followed, coming down to her knees next to him, her shield and sword dropping to the floor.
Silence filled the tomb then. The only sound the scrape of Salma's armor on the floor as she placed her hands over Beem-Ja's face.
"Father never trusted beem. I always thought he was just being overprotective."
"What will you do now?"
"I don't know. Beem-Ja has looked after me since I was knee-high to him. I think- I think I'm going back to High Rock."
"Don't you want your treasure? Riches, all that?"
"Look, I never needed treasure. My father owns land, our family is wealthy. I just wanted adventure. Not… this." Salma looked around the room, he gaze falling on the argonian again. "Oh Beem..."
"Are you sure you'll be alright? I don't make a habit of leaving people in Nord ruins."
Salma looked at him over her shoulder. "I'll be fine. Go on without me. I think I need to be alone. Then, I think I want to go home."
Rumarin nodded, his throat feeling a little tight and suddenly feeling a little envious that Salma at least, had a home to go back to. Whereas he was on the run from a group of pirates and all because he had tried to do the right thing.
The sky outside was darkening, nearly black with swirling clouds and the snow had picked up.
Gathering up his things, Rumarin turned east and headed for Windhelm, knowing there was at least a barrow on the way that he could duck into to avoid the storm. Probably.
His suspicion about the storm proved right. Figuring he might as well loot the graves, his fingers pressed along the edge of the stone lid of the sarcophagus. Well this was impossible.
He kicked it. Still nothing.
It wasn't until the lid of the sarcophagus came loose with a loud bang, and the bones of the skeletons lay, rolling, at his feet, that he spun around to see a stranger with a dagger poised at him, and the darkest set of eyes he'd ever seen.
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