Chapter Seventy Six

The fortress seemed as empty as it should have been following their passage through the web shrouded door. Gaeolin brushed a few more strands of the webs out of the way as he and his friends made their way deeper into the ruins. It all seemed too quiet now. Aside from a few spiders, nothing seemed to live here. Inigo cackled gleefully as he ended one of the arachnids. Faendal brought up the rear, an arrow ready on his string.

There had to be something here. They had faced too much opposition until now.

But even as they made their way into the next room, nothing met them. Gaeolin stopped to discuss with the party. “I don’t like this.”

“If you wanted to squash some of the spiders you should have asked my friend. I can share in the fun.” Inigo looked around for more of the creatures. Faendal put away his arrow as he joined them.

“Is it possible that we have destroyed them all?” He looked up in worry as dust fell from the ceiling. “I am not ashamed to admit that I am feeling less comfortable with this place by the second.”

“Those ash spawn were too organized. I know something more is going on here. We have to be close to something, and I worry that we are walking straight into a trap.”

“But, if this is a trap, and we know that it is,” Inigo mused,  “wouldn’t that make their trap a failure?”

“I would agree, if we weren’t still moving into it.”

Faendal listened at the next door. “This is the only way forward. We have no choice but to either keep going, or turn back.

“We only came here for shelter.” Inigo replied. “There would be no shame in moving on. It isn’t our responsibility to clean this place up. “

Gaeolin was forced to disagree. “We owe it to Raven Rock. This could be where all of the attacks have been coming from. The guards have been keeping them out, but how much longer?” The people there need to be kept safe.”

“Then we should press on.” Faendal drew another arrow from his quiver. “Tar éis duit.” (After you.)

They entered into what could only be the fort’s catacombs. Coffins lined the walls, hiding in alcoves that were stacked two high. Inigo gripped Dawnbreaker tightly as they walked past the corpses. There were candles lit along the way. Someone had been here recently.

Ahead the catacombs split into a cross. There were only two spaces directly ahead, with more tombs to the left and the right. They took the left path to follow the lighting. The room was empty when they arrived. An altar lay before them, various implements scattered over its surface. They reminded Gaeolin of the band of necromancers they had fought in Morthal. Could the ash spawn be a strange form of risen dead? He looked to the floor, spotting a leather bound journal propped against a bag. The pages shed some dirt as they were pried open.

‘Day 22

It’s been almost a month since unearthing the crypt at Fort Frostmoth, and I haven’t seen a single spark of life in the general’s remains. Grafting the Heartstone onto the subject is proving much more difficult than I originally  anticipated. I’ve used almost every method I can think of and still there’s no sign of reanimation. At this rate, it could take years to see any progress. Which is time that I just can’t afford right now. If my vengeance is to come to fruition, I need results. If not, I may need to resort to more drastic measures.’

Gaeolin read the rest of the journal, growing more worried the longer he did. “So, this is a type of necromancy after all.”

“Why is it that everywhere we go, people seem to think it is a great  idea to turn admittedly disturbing corpses into walking, killing corpses?” Inigo jumped a bit at a scuffling sound behind them. “And now they have special magics as well. The Gods must hate me…”

“I hope whoever started all of this gets what they deserve for it. A whole town in danger to satisfy their need for revenge.”

“No one I have met thinks about the consequences of their actions, especially when they feel wronged.” Faendal shook his head. “When you throw a stone into a lake, do you stop to consider the ripples when they reach the other shore?”

Inigo, who had been rummaging through the sack, produced an old, rusted key from its depths. “Perhaps for the locked door back near the cell?”

“That was her idea of containing him? Locking him in a room?” Gaeolin could almost hear Auroth’s objection to such a sloppy approach to experimentation.

“Come on,” Faendal made for the way they had come. “The sooner we deal with  this, the sooner we can get back to somewhere more welcoming.”

The old lock ground open with a great deal of resistance. A flight of stairs waited for them. The steps were uneven, making the adventurers journey far slower. Their steps were silent, trying their best to avoid alerting their foe.

General Carius stood at the far side of the room. His eyes were clouded, staring vacantly as he paced around a long destroyed table. There were two ash spawn flanking him. Their eyes glowed with the same burning red light as their brethren. The wood elves took up positions on either side of the stairwell, arrows drawing back for their attack.

The strings hurled the shafts, each one finding their target. Faendal’s arrow nestled into his enemy’s chest, while Gaeolin’s pierced the face of the other. Inigo charged in, Dawnbreaker flashing out with a burst of holy flames to ignite the beasts. General Carius swung free a large maul that radiated with an ever changing energy. “Men! Invaders have entered the fort! we must not let them take it!” At his command, a new ash spawn appeared behind him. Gaeolin noticed it first. He fired a rapid volley as he rushed into the room with his friend.

Faendal abandoned his bow, drawing an elegant blade from behind his back. He stopped the spear of the nearest spawn with one hand as he slashed at its wrist with the other. The construct snarled, trying to pull itself free of the elf’s grasp.

Gaeolin soon found himself having to abandon his bow as well. His sword sang free of its sheath. The spawn he had littered with arrows brought up a hand that had been pierced. A spell began to form in its fingers as Gaeolin brought his blade to sever the head from it. The monster crumbled into dust, only leaving the general remaining to contend with.

Inigo held him off valiantly, Dawnbreaker shimmering with her holy aura.  Unlike the other undead that they had encountered, Carius did not seem as affected by the daedric power. His hammer swung strong against the Khajiit’s armor,  sending Inigo sailing a few feet from the force. Faendal rushed to help him up while Gaeolin made for the enemy. The dragonborn summoned all of his will, feeling his soul ignite.

“Zun!” His thu’um struck the commander, causing his hands to slack on the maul. He did not drop it, but it gave the elf the opening he needed. “Wuld!” He leapt forward, steel glinting as he cleft the general on his left side. The warrior staggered, an arrow protruding from his chest. The man’s body seemed to deteriorate before their eyes. As the skin began to dry, he  managed  two words.

“I’ve… Failed…” He collapsed into a pile of dust and bones. A large, glowing stone sat amid his remains, still radiating an ominous energy. Gaeolin knelt beside the remains.

“Scíth anois, ceannasaí. Tá deireadh le d’uaireadir.” (Rest now, General.Your watch is ended.) He picked up the stone, careful not to touch it with his bare hands. “We shouldn’t leave this to be found by just anyone. Maybe Auroth would know what to do with it.”

“If he does not,” Inigo mused, “perhaps his new wizard friend will.”

Faendal nodded. “Let’s get going then. I’ve seen about as much of this place as I care to. Even the ash filled sky of Solstheim will be a welcome change to these falling stones.” He led the way back to the stairs. As he left, Inigo bent down to pick up Carius’ hammer.

“You are too heavy for me, but I think I know someone who might appreciate your weight.” He fastened the weapon to his quiver with a nod. He followed his friends with a renewed spring in his step. After how much adventure they had shared without him, the cat was more than ready to see the Altmer again.