A/N: I obviously don't own any rights to either game nor any character therein, if i did then onion bro would have been a constant companion.

If you like it, you can follow or maybe even leave a review. If not, then take it easy on me, my ego can only take so much :)

'Blasted thieves on a blasted mountain crawling with blasted wolves...'

It would be safe to say that her thoughts were anything but pleasant as she drew her blade from the still corpse of the last of the aforementioned wolves. She had picked up on their presence almost an hour ago, stalking her through the thinning forest as she climbed towards Bleak falls Barrow, it was surprising to her that they took so long to commit to an attack, especially now that she saw the state they were in. Mangy was a term thrown around a lot in her home of Cyrodil, but these beasts were the very manifestation of the word, their fur was in tatters, their ribs visible through the thin, unhealthy hide. Starving animals were rarely so reluctant to attack.

Then again, that sort of strangeness was the staple of her life and had been as long as she could remember, animals had always been wary of her, dogs would run from her in the streets, horses would buck her given half a chance and even people, regardless of their race, had trouble hold eye contact with her. For most of her adolescence she had assumed the latter of those was because of her notorious temper, but even as the years taught her to reign in her emotions, people still rarely felt comfortable around her resulting in her current solitary lifestyle much to the ire of her mother.

She shuddered. Her mother had berated her fairly often after her twentieth birthday saying she would die a lonely woman if she didn't settle down soon, the comments infuriated her at the time and after the steaming mess that went down in Helgen, it only made it worse that she was nearly proven right.

'Blasted dragons and bootlicking, bastard Imperials...'

It was bad enough that she was sentenced to death for the grand crime of crossing the border to Skyrim at the same time the imperials were rebel hunting, then her impromptu execution was upended by a dragon of all things that seemed equally if not more invested in murdering her, truly the divines had abandoned her. Then to add insult to injury, she was all but press ganged into Jarl Balgruufs service by the advisors that knew full well that her options could generously be described as 'limited', but at least the housecarl had seen fit to send one their "Best men" to ensure her safe passage through to the supposedly abandoned barrow, the same man who had so valiantly fled at first contact with bandits and now lay cooling in the snow with a unluckily placed arrow jutting from his neck.

'Arrogant pissing Jarls and damned fucking dragon stones-'

The venomous thoughts died in her head as ancient ruins became visible over the hills' crest. Black arching pillars reached up as if clawing at the sky, made of some Daedra-cursed stone that could somehow withstand centuries of abuse. But it was not the demonic sight revealing itself that gave her pause, it was the smell. Flickering lights in the distance told her that fire lay ahead, likely for some poor sods keeping watch, but Helgen was far too fresh in her mind for her to think any good could come of the smell of burning flesh.

With as much stealth as a woman of her size could muster, she crept towards the barrow with eyes peeled for the inevitable danger that the Divines would surely see fit to test her with. The unease only grew as she approached, there was absolutely no sound to be heard but the light howl of the wind. She knew full well that where there were men standing guard, there were surely men grumbling about being on guard, there should be the sound of bored feet shuffling around the flame or the light banter of friends, instead there was only faint crackle of fire and the ever-growing stench from the whatever was burning on the fires.

She wasn't surprised to see human bodies when she crested the weathered stairs, with the luck she had thus far in the land of her ancestors she wouldn't be surprised if the same bastard dragon had decided to make the barrow its home. She shuddered again, best not tempt fate.

Two bodies lay half engulfed in the watch fire, not thrown on as she suspected, but rather by virtue of having fallen into it when they died. Another two bodies lay sprawled in the snow, one with his throat torn open and the other with a gaping wound in his chest, likely run through with a sword. With a grimace she knelt down but the latter while refusing to meet the man's glassy stare, the wound looked fresh, frost having yet to gather inside, his skin still pliable despite the creeping cold.

Whatever happened here, she had only just missed it.

Things did not improve as she moved to the cavernous entrance, bloody boot prints led the way past the body of a very large man, or rather he would have been had he still possessed the majority of his upper body. The sight made her stomach turn, she had seen this type of death before when the Thalmor inquisitors had made an 'arrest' on the librarian of Bruma, the 'resisting' Nord had promptly been subdued by the magic of all four of the High Elves, the combined energy of their shock spells flash boiling the man's blood and causing him to quiet literally explode in front of her young eyes. She was six years old at the time.

She moved on with a tight jaw, passing the ruined and often dismembered bodies of the rest of the group to stop in the middle of what would have once been their camp. Bags of supplies poked out from behind makeshift tents and crates of precious jewels and other items lay beneath embroidered sheets, suddenly she didn't feel the least bit sad for them, Bandits deserved no less. This must've been the greater part of the group that waylaid her further down the mountain.

Her old temper roared back into existence like an awakening beast as she rounded the tents to find a solitary corpse, bruises on the young woman's throat told the manner of her death, her torn dress spoke to what she went through before it, now discarded manacles explained the bruises on her wrists. But this body alone had been shown some measure of respect, the clothing had been arranged as much as the ruined garment allowed so as to preserve her modesty, her hands had been brought to her chest to clasp a brilliantly white stick, a branch from a tree she had never before seen. Finally, single rune like character was drawn on her forehead in what looked to be ash.

She felt a lot more charitable to the group that had done this, whatever their reasons for being here they at least had honor. Her eyes narrowed again as she stepped over the remaining corpses of the bandit group, taking note of a woman's body among them, her face caved in by what must have been a hammer blow. How she could have just stood by with what had happened mere feet away was beyond her understanding.

Steeling herself, she moved on deeper into the underground labyrinth.

'Pissing Jarls and sodding bandits and damned, Fucking undead!'

This was a new experience for her, she had been in dozens of fights and had killed more than her fair share of people but the hopefully still-dead bodies that lay before her were something she had only heard of from her father's stories.

Draugr.

Long dead servants of ancient gods were once figures of terrifying tales, but the cut and torn corpses still clutching weapons of a bygone age indicated that those stories, like those of dragons, contained more truth than she would even be comfortable with. Thankfully it seemed like whatever unholy magic that preserved their undeath had been extinguished when they fell, yet another thing she would have to thank the preceding group for.

It had been nothing but undead corpses since she had entered the lower levels of the barrow, the air was heavy with an assortment of unpleasant odors that told her it would not be wise to remain any longer than needed. The last body not belonging to beast or monster had been just prior to the lower levels having received the same treatment as the rest of the bandit group. Curiously, she had spied a golden ornament shaped like a dragon's foot in plain view clutched in the figures hand that she had quite readily taken for herself, whoever this group was they were unnaturally indifferent to wealth. Or perhaps they simply planned to sweep the place once they were done, if that were the case then she had most certainly never seen such an ornament in her life and wished them all the best in finding it.

The only bodies she had yet to see were those belonging to the attacking group, in fact now that she thought about it, there had been no blood on the bandits' weapons nor on the draugr's weapons, not a single sign that one had been injured at all. The number of groups she knew of that could pull that off were few and far between, and none of them were groups she particularly wanted to come across. She sighed, not even a week's time in Skyrim and she was already re-considering the whole settling down thing.

She did not make good time in her exploration, the lack of enemies to fight only heightened her anxiety, every shadow from a flickering flame caused her to jump, every scuttling sound caused her heart to race and above all, the non-zero probability that any one of these bodies could decide to get back up had her moving with all the speed of a crippled horker.

She slowed her pace even more as she maneuvered her way around a suspicious oil patch on the floor and took some time to scan her surroundings, she was hoping that the dragon stone would be on one of the many shrines scattered about although she knew it was most likely to be at the very end of this hole, fortune was a fickle beast that had never liked her.

She was nearing her wits end when she finally heard it, the scuff of boots on stone at the other end of the tunnel like doorway, with light steps she crept forward. The steps were slow and careless, the owner making no pains to hide their presence, they must be quite sure that they had cleared all draugr out...or that they didn't care either way. Taking a deep calming breath, she rounded the corner with her best disarming smile.

A smile that froze and dropped as the figure didn't even register her entry, instead seeming quite engrossed in the murals that stretched across the walls of the hall. He was a tall man, some head taller than her own six feet and dressed in the strangest armor she had ever seen. A tattered cape hid most of his form but she could see it was mostly leather that wrapped closely around his form, the exception was the large steel plating that ran out of her view down his left arm, the knee plates and the strange triangular cone helm adorning his head. It was unusual but not too out of place considering the armor worn by some of the less reputable guilds in Tamriel. What was out of place was the massive great sword gripped loosely in his right hand, she had trained with her father's great sword and it would have only been the length of the blade of his sword.

She was so absorbed by the ludicrous size of the weapon that she didn't register its movement until it was pointing right at her, her eyes trailed back over the man as he turned to her, his armored left arm crossing over his right clasping a wickedly curved dagger.

"Whoa!" She called, sheathing her sword and raising her hands. "I'm not here to fight!"

The man only stared, golden eyes glowed with their own light as they regarded her from under the rim of his strange helm.

"And those...degenerates. Thou art no friend to them?" He finally asked in a smooth, surprisingly high voice.

A scowl came unbidden to her face. "Definitely not. I ran into the rest of them on my way up here."

The seconds passed as the great sword remained pointing unwaveringly at her chest, an unnatural feat of strength that made her wonder just who this person was. She was almost convinced that he would gut her regardless when he raised the sword to rest over his shoulder.

"What seekest thou here in such a dark place?" He asked, turning back towards the mural that she now saw depicted men in the act of worshipping a dragon.

"I seek..." She cocked her head; only highborn elves ever spoke like that. "I'm looking for a tablet, it's supposed to have writing on it in the dragon language."

The man sheathed his dagger and moved towards the ornate door at the end of the hall. "I have not seen such a stone. If it is of value perhaps it resides beyond this door...although it requires a three-pronged key of some manner."

She only hummed in acknowledgement as she examined the door. Three concentric rings surrounded the keyhole, each ring bearing a familiar animal emblem and the key holes themselves lay within a familiar imprint. Snorting, she retrieved the golden claw from her belt.

"Dragon claw for a dragon door. These people may have been more than a little obsessed." She muttered to herself.

"A most curious key indeed." The man agreed, suddenly right at her shoulder.

"GAH!" She near shrieked as she spun around to face him. "For the love of the eight! Don't do that!"

The man merely cocked his head and moved back a step.

"What's your name anyway?" She asked after her heart rate dropped back to an acceptable level.

Seconds passed before the man answered. "Galeran, of Astora."

She held the claw up to the door, the same three animal emblems mirrored on the claw if only in the wrong order. "Never heard of it."

"It is far from here." Came his reply, tone indicating that was all he wished to say.

"Okay...Nice to meet you Gale." She grunted as she pushed on the door, the circular stone rotated with about as much ease as one would expect from a giant ancient stone block. "I'm Katryn...do you think you could give me a hand with this?"

Together they maneuvered the rotating segments until the emblems aligned with those on the claw, she was aware that the weathered holes in the wall either side of her would hold a nasty surprise if she was guessing wrong. With a careful push the claw entered the trio of holes in the stone and she felt some sort of catch give way under it, with a small heave she pulled the claw in a downward motion and gave a yell of triumph as a hidden mechanism pulled the door segments into the walls and floor.

"Look at that!" She exclaimed looking toward Gale. "Something went right today!"

The man just stared at her. She was staring to see a pattern there. "Gale?" he asked.

"Yes." She gave another disarming smile and stepped through the door frame. "Life's too short for long names."

The man looked at her as if uncomfortable before nodding slightly.

"What brings you here Gale?" She asked emerging into the cavernous room, giant stalactites hung from the cave's ceiling from centuries of neglect, stone and all manner of debris covered what may have once been a beautiful hall of some sort.

The man himself seemed far more interested in the room as she was. "I was beset by those brigands. Curiosity led me deeper into these ruins."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "So you braved an army of Draugr, giant spiders and ancient traps because...you were curious?"

The man scratched at man faded runes inscribed on a wall. "Yes."

It was her turn to stare.

"Guess if I could throw a great sword around one-handed then I could afford to be more curious too." she muttered to herself.

"I do hope this is not the tablet you seek."

"It better sodding well not be..." Was all she could say. That would just make the whole journey complete.

They were standing in front of a giant stone display; clean cut runes were etched into the face of it and she felt herself step closer without conscious thought. The runes were so alien yet at the same time, so hauntingly familiar. She focused on the center most set of runes, the meaning almost at the tip of her tongue, dancing on the edge of her mind like a half-remembered melody.

Suddenly she found herself shaken as Gale forcibly pulled her away from the wall.

"Why- What are you doing?" She demanded and she pushed his hands away.

"Thou hast been staring for minutes, I spoke and you heard me not."

Her head felt strange and it took her a few seconds to process his strange speech. "I didn't eve-"

The cracking of stone cut her off mid-sentence and she turned to stare wide-eyed as a chunk of granite half her size flew off of the coffin besides the throne, an emaciated hand gripped the rim and a creature right out of her childhood nightmares emerged. It appeared much like the previous Draugr, thin petrified skin stretched across a skeletal frame, but this particular undead was taller even than Gale, thick dark iron was strapped to its body with leather that had somehow endured from centuries, glowing crystal blue eyes regarded them from beneath its heavy, horned helm.

Suddenly it moved, crossing the gap between her and it in less than a second, she was barely reaching for her sword when the creature's axe came down on her. She was saved as a great sword moved past her like a blur to swat the Draugr's weapon aside, her savior moved past her lashing out with his dagger to tear the left pauldron from the things armor.

Gale moved as fast as she had seen anyone fight, the sheer size and weight of his sword beating aside the Draugr's attempts to block while the dagger lashed out to tear at its throat and gut, she could see how the other Draugr had fallen before him. The fight seemed decided to her before a single word cut through the air as sharp as any blade.

"Fus-"

She Knew that word, its meaning pulled at her mind as if demanding acknowledgement, instinct demanded that she brace. Unfortunately, Gale did not share that instinct.

"Ro-DAH!"

With an almighty thunder clap, the very air exploded in front of the undead lord as if a dozen barrels of oil had gone up in flame. The force stuck her companion like a run-away wagon and threw him into the air only to strike the edge of the word wall with bone-crushing force before he fell limply to the ground.

And then she was alone with the undead, those same empty eyes turned to focus on her, mouth open in a grim imitation of a smile. Without a word she charged forward, the Draugr's axe came down with more force than she would have been able to stop but she was prepared for that, with a nimble hop she was a foot away as the axe sailed past, the swing unbalancing the taller monster and leaving it open as her sword carved through its abdomen leaving a wound that would have killed any man. She realized her error too late and a large bony fist struck her in the gut and sent her rolling across the floor, barely able to dodge the following axe swing.

The thing was relentless, swinging the axe around with the endurance of one kept alive through arcane means. Every swing she made was battered aside by axe or fist, the owner uncaring for wounds that would have incapacitated anything else. Her energy began to wane and it was not long before she left herself unbalanced and received a crushing kick to the center of her chest, sending here skidding across floor to stop against the same coffin from which the monster emerged.

The Draugr seemed content to take its' time as it near-sauntered towards her, apparently even the undead weren't immune to arrogance; It stopped before her, axe by its side and she heard the intake of breath. She shuddered to think what the same attack the felled Gale would do to her.

Thankfully she wouldn't have to find out as a golden bolt of lightning struck the beast from behind sending it staggering to a knee. Behind it she could see Gale rising from his knee. His helm was missing, no doubt lost in his fall, a shock of unruly ash white hair framed a face that couldn't have been any older than hers, his burning golden eyes narrowed in a glare that threatened to incinerate the Draugr on the spot.

'Wait...' She thought before it dawned on her. His eyes were literally burning.

In fact, all of him was. The air around him wavered as if above a stove, lines of fire raced across his armor as he sunk into a strange crouch that slung his sword over his shoulder and left his left arm dangling in front, the limb twisted and bent at an unnatural angle from his fall. Even his skin began to crack as if a fire raged inside his very body threatening to consume him, within seconds his sword was ablaze with an inferno of its own.

With shocking speed Gale jumped and brought his blade down, cutting off the Draugr's charge attempt. Flames erupted from the ground as blade made contact and she could smell the remaining flesh on the undead begin to burn away. Gale struck again and again with wide heavy blows forcing the Draugr back and away from her, every blocking attempt was swatted away with enough force that it staggered, but still the creature would not die.

Great flames licked outwards in an arc with every swing of his blade forcing the undead to hop backwards to avoid him, each blow scorching the surrounding stone. But the mysterious warrior had even more tricks, with an explosive kick he propelled himself forward to close the distance with a flaming thrust, the great length of his sword crossing the gap between them to strike the helmet from its head. He gave no quarter and continued his assault.

Gale struck once, twice in a pair of attacks that tore away the remaining armor plates from its body before leaping into a twisting somersault to bring the flaming great sword down, shattering the Draugr lord's guard and arm and smashing it to the ground, he wasted no time in kicking it over onto its back and ramming the blade down through its chest. The undead let out a howling scream as the flames increased in intensity, burning it away from the inside out and forcing her to look away. When she was able to look again, there was nothing but ash.

Silence filled the hall as Gale fell to his knee, the flames disappearing as quickly as they had come and he braced himself against his sword in an effort to avoid collapsing completely. His breathing came in quick gasps as he struggled at his waist as if searching for something.

"Gale!" She called as she limped her way towards him. He was still reaching in vain at his belt, his good arm unable to reach its objective and support his weight at the same time.

"Left hip." He grated out, turning as much as possible towards her.

It was immediately obvious what he was after, a large flask was secured to his belt casting a dull orange light.

"Here." She said as she pressed the strange potion into his hand, it was curiously warm to the touch.

He took several long gulps before his face contorted in a grimace. When the first snap sounded, she thought another abomination was emerging from its coffin, the second crunching pop made it clear that it was Gales own arm. Slowly, the man climbed to his feet, his face relaxing even as his arm continued to snap back into an acceptable position.

"That." He began, voice as level as ever. "Was most unpleasant."

"You're going to have to explain to me just what in the name of Azura's left tit just happened." She said reaching for her own wineskin, she was lucky it was filled with healing tonic even if she wished it still had wine.

"It is a long tale." He replied.

"One for the road then?" She said, catching sight of something inside the same coffin the Draugr lord had slept in.

"You wish me to travel with thee?"

"We're going to have to work on your normal speak." She mused digging into the mess of stone rubble to dig out a large sapphire pendant. "Unless you have somewhere to be?"

"I... Do not." Came the hesitant reply.

"Great!" She cheered and promptly hauled a thick engraved chunk of black stone to rest of the rim of the coffin. "Because there in no way in Oblivion that I'm carrying this thing back to Whiterun by myself.

Gale just blinked between her and the stone before turning to the larger Word wall.

"I suppose it is the lesser of two evils."