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"What was the worst part of your time in the service?"

"It wasn't the fighting or the killing. And yeah, they are different. It wasn't the food or the marching. It was the quiet. Those long days and nights where you sit there; on edge, where any moment could have you and your friends rushing into their last fight. That's the worst part of the service." - Ex-legionnaire Darrius Strick

Warmed by the fire and with full bellies, it was time to move on. The doors into the barrow were incredibly large. Large enough that a dragon could walk through them with room to spare were they to be fully opened. Talrikir sensed a faint magic in them.

A further inspection revealed that some of the ancient nordic designs were actually concealing an enchantment to make the doors lighter. He was rather impressed by any enchantment that could hold up for thousands of years.

Talrikir pulled the door open. Immediately from inside someone yelled, "You never should have come here."

Heracles raised his shield to catch an arrow and they ran in. There were two imperials with short words and a bosmer with a short bow.

The room was dim and littered with rubble and detritus. There were a pair of large pillars in the middle of the room supporting the high ceiling. The only light came from a small campfire in the middle of the bandits.

Heracles hefted the spear and launched it straight into the first man's chest.

Talrikir used his twin blades to parry the nord that came after him before sinking the imperial blade into his chest. He didn't spare a glance at the newly made corpse, as he ran past them toward the archer.

The archer fired and missed by inches. He didn't last long once Talrikir got close.

Talrikir turned away from the corpse to look at Heracles. "Is it me, or was that easy?"

Heracles huffed as he retrieved his spear and a few coins from the nords by his feet. "I admit I was expecting more of a challenge."

Talrikir searched through the small camp in the front room. There were a few bed rolls and some crates with foodstuffs, not in the best of condition. Hidden under some canvas he found a small locked chest. Heracles huffed a bit when he pulled the picks out. A few seconds of tinkering later there was a satisfying "Snick!" and the lid popped open. Talrikir grinned at the contents.

"You can say thank you now. Or maybe, Talrikir you handsome dev-" He was cut off when Heracles lightly cuffed him over the head. "Hey! Watch the ears. They're sensitive."

"Mhm." He was leaning over by the chest now himself. It was almost filled to the top with coins and precious gems. Talrikir found a backpack nearby and started shoveling the loot into the bag.

"We can split the haul up back in Riverwood. For now, I'll carry it. You need to stay nimble if you're going to be the frontline in here."

Heracles nodded and moved into the only uncollapsed passage further down. With a heavy bag filled with valuables over one shoulder, Talrikir joined him.

The passages were just wide enough for two to walk side by side, though overgrown with petrified roots and desiccated vines. Most of the paths had collapsed long ago, definitely not where the thieves had gone.

Now and then they would pass plinths with ancient urns and grave offerings over the top. Talrikir didn't dare to take those things, and neither did Heracles. Neither saw fit to steal from the dead.

The oddest thing had to be the lit torches and braziers. Again Talrikir felt faint magic when he touched them. Strange.

Sometime later, and much further in Talrikir heard the faint sound of footsteps. He tapped Heracles' shoulder and mimed being quiet. Creeping forward they came across another stairway down, and one of the bandits in a small room.

The room was well-lit from what little they could see of it, with a large lever set into the floor. As they watched the man crept forward and pulled the lever.

There was a series of rattling noises as a flurry of darts shot into the center of the room. The man let go of the lever and cried out in pain. A moment later he slumped over, knocking the lever back again. The darts shot out again, into the corpse. Poisoned, and not a one-off either.

They stood and walked into the room. It was surprisingly large, with reliefs of animal carvings on the wall opposite the entrance, though one had fallen. There was a gated passage below said carvings and a walkway over the gate, with stairs up to it on one side. On the opposite side of the stairs were three large stones, clearly set into a rotating mechanism, with the same carvings as the wall.

Heracles looked back at him. "You don't think?"

"I kinda do actually. What's the harm in trying?"

Heracles pointed at the corpse next to the lever, the same one Talrikir was cleaning the pockets of. "He found out the hard way."

"You know you have a spear..."

There was a distinct pause before Heracles said. "Oh." A few seconds later Heracles began to turn the stones.

Talrikir stepped to the side as Heracles used the blunt side of the spear to push the lever forwards. There was a loud "Thunk!" somewhere in the walls before the gate fell into the floor. The spiked bars collapsed in pairs out from the center.

They descended the stairs to find another nearly pitch-black room. The halls from here on were covered in webbing similar to what they had found under Helgen Keep. The lighting remained rather dim.

A few minutes later Talrikir heard a cry for help. He readied his bow and Heracles unlimbered his spear to match. At the end of the hall, they found a doorway completely blocked off by webbing. Heracles laid his spear against the wall and brought his axe down on the sticky obstruction.

Meanwhile, Talrikir peeked in through the other doorway. This one had been overgrown with tree roots, much too thick to get through. He supposed that made it more of a window. The shouts for help continued. The source turned out to be a wood elf, very thin and wiry, probably a runner. Talrikir would be concerned, except the man was dressed in the same crude leather and fur as the other bandits, and he had a large golden claw hooked in his belt.

He turned back to Heracles, noticing that the webbing was sticking to the ax blade in an absurdly large, and sticky, ball. By the time he cut an entrance that ax would be dead weight.

Heracles had finally managed to cut a path through the webbing, tossing his now useless axe at the wall. The webbing caught, leaving it hanging there. Heracles growled and picked up his spear. "Waste of a perfectly good axe."

The captive bandit must have heard that. He cried out, " Thank the divines. Help me down and I can share the treasure with you. I promise!"

They walked into the center of the room. There was a passage further into the tomb, though it was currently blocked by more webbing and the tied-up elf. The floor was littered with various corpses that looked shrunken and dried out, even through the web coverings. Whatever made this place its den was a big eater.

"If you let me go I can show you the way. The nords hid a powerful treasure in the deepest sanctum. The claw is the key. I know how to unlock the door. Please, just let me go and I'll help you get in. Wait. Behind you!"

"Do you really think we'd fall for that?", Talrikir said.

Heracles tapped his shoulder and said. "Talrikir?"

"Yeah?"

"Turn around."

Talrikir turned around to see a massive frostbite spider land in the center of the room. It must have been the size of two horses. Worse, it had them trapped. "Oh...shit!"

Heracles braced his spear with both arms and charged. The blade pierced the hide causing the beast to let out a horrendous screech.

Talrikir drew his bow and fired off a shot into the beast's side, only for the arrow to bounce right off. Iron arrows wouldn't cut it here.

Heracles stabbed the spider again before taking his shield and smashing it into the eyes on one side of its face.

The spider recoiled in pain and Heracles took the opportunity to line up his spear with its face. He sank the spear two feet into its head before twisting the blade and ripping it out.

The spider spasmed a couple of times before falling limply to the ground, its legs slowly curling tight to its abdomen. A swarm of spiders about the size of a shoe ran out of the body and scattered into the walls.

"I never want to see another one of those again.", said Talrikir.

"Scared? That would explain why I had to kill it myself."

Talrikir crossed his arms, just the slightest bit put out. "I would have helped. You just killed it too fast."

Heracles waved him off, turning to the elf."Sure, next one's all yours then."

Talrikir pulled an iron shortsword off of the elf's belt. "I think this will cut those webs down, crap blade anyway."

"We're not really letting him go are we?"

"Oh, no. Not a chance."

The elf shook wildly in the binding webs. "Wait I can-"

Talrikir pulled the elf's blade back out of his skull. "Good riddance. No worth in a cowardly bandit."

He set to the task of carving a hole in the webbing. Once that was done he tossed the useless sword at the wall. Heracles had pulled the claw and the thief's coin purse from the body in the meanwhile.

Talrikir said, "So, do we want to see what's down there?"

"We are already here."

"After you then." Talrikir gently rapped the iron chest piece, before waving Heracles down first.

The hall led downward for quite a while before leading to a series of much more brightly lit rooms. The overgrown plans from before had been replaced by an excess of urns and other burial containers. Set into the walls were what could only be the mummified remains of ancient nord warriors. The customs of the day left most of them armed. Talrikir found that unsettling.

After walking through a few of these rooms Talrikir sensed something strange. His fur stood on end and his grip on the bow tightened. Something wasn't right.

A moment later there was a creaking noise up ahead. They rounded a corner to see three of the mummified bodies standing with ancient weapons in hand. One carried a two-handed war hammer. Another had a sword and shield, while a third carried a simple bearded axe in one hand. Each of them had ragged armor, mostly rotted by time, and glowing blue eyes.

The room had a downward ramp into a larger area. The walls were lined with slots for bodies to lie in; all surrounding a massive support pillar at the center of the space.

Talrikir aimed with his bow and shot the one with the war hammer once, twice, three times to put them down.

Heracles hefted his spear over the shield and charged. He pierced the shielded warrior through the skull, its eyes losing their glow quickly. Without stopping he dropped the weapon and bulldozed the second with his shield. He didn't stop until the undead had been slammed into the pillar.

The undead was pinned in place, its weapon arm trapped. Its free arm was punching Heracles in the face, but it was mostly ineffective against the plate helmet.

With its weapon arm trapped against its chest, it was trivial for Talrikir to advance and take its head with a quick slash.

Heracles wasted no time in collecting his spear, along with the ancient nord axe. "This is getting too easy."

Talrikir couldn't help but agree. Moreso when he saw the massive spike wall trap meant to bar the way ahead...and the incredibly obvious pressure plate that triggered it. They hugged the wall and advanced past it without issue.

The next room was quite similar to the previous one; except that as soon as Heracles stepped into the light one of the corpses stood up and immediately blasted him with a wave of frost magic. The undead stalked forward vengefully with an axe in hand, ice spraying from the other.

Talrikir put a stop to that, running up with his swords to cut the ice-spewing appendage off at the wrist. Their foe didn't last long with the two warriors upon it and only one arm.

Further down they encountered another trio of undead that were dealt with in swift order.

Heracles was quite happy to pocket another two axes in spoils. Talrikir didn't fault him after seeing him throw an axe clean through a skull. It had been difficult to pry the axe out of the wall behind the re-killed undead. Heracles had a hell of a throwing arm on him.