If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Built directly into the circular stone walls, encircling the entire chamber on both the upper and lower levels, were dozens of heavy steel coffins. They were all perfectly sealed. Aerion narrowed his eyes. The tactical setup was glaringly obvious. The bridge offered a narrow, elevated choke point, but the slatted floor below was a death trap designed to hinder movement while being swarmed from all sides. "Let's move across the room. Quickly, but carefully," Aerion ordered.
The group stepped onto the heavy stone span. Their boots echoed loudly in the vast chamber. They made it exactly halfway across the bridge when the trap was sprung.
SLAM.
The heavy steel door they had just used to enter the chamber violently crashed shut behind them, the massive locking mechanisms grinding into place with a deafening thud.
Immediately following the slam of the door, a terrifying, synchronized symphony of scraping metal filled the cavernous room.
All around the perimeter, on the walkways, the steel coffins began to burst open. They didn't open one by one, they opened in massive, coordinated waves.
Draugr began to pour into the room. There were ordinary, shambling husks wielding rusted ancient nord swords, armored Restless Draugr carrying heavy shields, and, towering above them all, heavily armored Wight Draugr wielding ancient Nord greatswords and bows.
Aerion did the tactical math in a fraction of a second. There were easily more than twenty of them, and they were rapidly closing in on the bridge from both ends.
"Form a perimeter!" Aerion roared, his voice booming over the shrieks of the undead. "Lydia, Jenassa! Fall back to the center of the bridge! Protect Master Tolfdir! Do not let them flank Master Tolfdir!"
Lydia immediately slammed her shield into the stone, forming an unbreakable wall at Tolfdir's right side, while Jenassa crouched on his left, her bow drawn and aimed at the upper walkways.
"I shall provide some spells as helo, Aerion!" Tolfdir shouted, completely abandoning his frail demeanor. The old master's eyes blazed with intense arcane power as he thrust his hands into the air.
Grand Healing.
Tolfdir did not cast a simple ward. He unleashed a massive, continuous aura of radiant, golden Restoration magic that entirely enveloped the bridge.
The spell bathed Aerion, Lydia, and Jenassa in warm, restorative light, constantly mending any minor fatigue and vastly accelerating their stamina recovery, while simultaneously acting as a blinding, burning deterrent to the undead approaching the perimeter.
Aerion stepped to the very front of the bridge, acting as the absolute, immovable bulwark against the horde pouring from the far door.
The first wave hit him like a crashing tide.
Three Restless Draugr lunged forward simultaneously. One thrust a rusted spear toward Aerion's chest, while the other two swung heavy iron axes at his legs.
Aerion didn't bother parrying the strikes. He trusted his equipment.
The rusted iron spear struck the center of his Nordic Carved cuirass and snapped cleanly in half, entirely unable to penetrate the thick, master crafted steel. The axes glanced harmlessly off his fur lined greaves, leaving nothing but shallow scratches on the metal. Aerion felt the kinetic thump of the impacts, but zero pain. He was a walking fortress.
With a roar that rivaled the beasts, Aerion swung the Ebony Greatsword in a massive, sweeping horizontal arc. The devastating blow caught all three draugr across their torsos, the razor sharp volcanic glass cutting through their ancient armor like parchment, severing them entirely and sending their upper halves tumbling off the edge of the bridge into the abyss below.
"Archers on the upper tier!" Jenassa yelled over the din.
She released a volley of arrows, her incredible speed sending three ebony shafts flying across the room to pin two Draugr Wights to the stone walls before they could loose their ancient bows.
A massive Wight armed with a battleaxe managed to slip past Aerion's wide swings, lunging toward Tolfdir.
Lydia intercepted it flawlessly. She bashed the Wight in the face with her ebony shield, the heavy metal crushing the creature's jaw. The Wight retaliated blindly, bringing its axe down in a frantic swing that clipped Lydia's shoulder pauldron. The blade bit through the chainmail beneath, drawing a quick, sharp line of blood.
Lydia grunted in pain, but before she could even counterattack, Tolfdir was there. The old mage aimed a glowing hand directly at the Housecarl's shoulder. A concentrated beam of healing magic washed over the wound, instantly knitting the flesh back together and sealing the cut.
"I have you, warrior! Keep the line!" Tolfdir shouted, before turning his other hand toward the Wight and blasting it backward with a concentrated sphere of Sun Fire, incinerating it on the spot.
The fight was chaotic, brutal, and incredibly dangerous, but under Aerion's command and Tolfdir's flawless magical support, the group operated like a highly oiled machine.
Aerion became an engine of destruction at the front of the bridge. He used the narrow choke point to his absolute advantage, stepping into the swings of the undead, letting their brittle weapons bounce harmlessly off his heavy steel plates, and answering with devastating, one hit kills from his greatsword.
Whenever a wight managed to land a heavy blow that bruised his ribs through the armor, Tolfdir's radiant aura instantly washed the pain away.
For five grueling minutes, the clash of steel, the shrieks of the dead, and the explosive crackle of holy magic filled the cavernous chamber.
Finally, Aerion brought his greatsword down, splitting the skull of the last remaining Wight Draugr down to its collarbone. He kicked the twitching corpse off the blade, letting it fall onto the spiral grating below.
The chamber fell silent once more, save for the heavy, ragged breathing of the living.
Over twenty ancient Nordic warriors lay in pieces across the stone bridge and the grated floor below, their bodies rapidly dissolving into ash in the wake of Tolfdir's lingering holy magic.
Lydia leaned heavily on her shield, wiping a streak of sweat from her brow. Jenassa lowered her bow, rolling her shoulders to loosen the tension.
"Excellent work, everyone," Aerion praised them, his chest heaving slightly within the heavy armor. He turned to the old mage, his respect genuine. "Your restorative spells are flawless, Master Tolfdir. You are the reason this line did not break."
Tolfdir smiled, waving off the praise, though he was clearly winded by the massive expenditure of magicka. "I may be old, Aerion, and my mind may wander in the lecture halls, but I have not forgotten how to fight in the dark. Come. Let us push forward before the sounds send more of these Draugrs."
Aerion walked to the far end of the bridge. Blocking the exit corridor was a heavy iron portcullis. He looked to the left, spotting a thick iron pull chain dangling from a stone alcove.
He grabbed the chain and hauled downward with all his augmented strength.
With a loud, mechanical clunk, the gears engaged, and the heavy iron spears retracted into the ceiling, opening the path deeper into Saarthal.
The group moved onward, leaving the bridge chamber behind. The ruins grew increasingly complex and treacherous. They navigated open, winding paths and branching corridors that seemed to twist endlessly deeper into the permafrost.
They encountered several smaller groups of draugr attempting to ambush them from hidden alcoves or rising from the dusty floors. These fights were handled much more quickly, the group's coordination allowing them to rapidly dismantle the undead before they could form a cohesive threat. Aerion cleaved through the vanguards, while Jenassa and Lydia secured the flanks, protecting Tolfdir as they moved.
However, as they pushed even deeper, the nature of the enemy began to change.
In a long, pillared hallway, they were confronted by three Draugr Scourges. These were not mere foot soldiers, they were commanders of the ancient armies, clad in nearly pristine ancient Nordic heavy armor.
As Aerion charged them, the lead Scourge didn't raise a sword. It drew in a massive, rattling breath and unleashed a Thu'um.
"ZUN HAAL VIIK!"
The Disarm shout rippled through the corridor. The concussive wave of ancient magic slammed into Aerion. He felt a sudden, violent, magical compulsion attempt to rip the ebony greatsword from his grip. Only his overwhelming, transmigrator willpower and his vastly augmented physical strength allowed him to lock his gauntlets around the leather hilt, fighting through the shout.
"They have the Voice!" Aerion warned loudly, staggering slightly from the magical impact.
The fight with the Scourges was significantly more stubborn and brutal. Their heavy armor deflected Jenassa's arrows, and their physical strength matched Lydia's shield bashes blow for blow.
Aerion was forced to abandon his purely defensive tanking. He seamlessly integrated his magic into the melee combat.
As he parried a heavy battleaxe swing from the lead Scourge, he dropped his left hand from the hilt of his greatsword, his palm erupting in crackling lightning. He unleashed a point blank blast of Chain Lightning directly into the Scourge's chest plate. The voltage stunned the undead commander long enough for Aerion to bring his greatsword around and sever its head from its shoulders.
Working together, bathing the narrow corridor in a chaotic mix of steel, lightning, and holy fire, they systematically cut down the remaining two Scourges.
When the last armored commander fell, Aerion leaned against a stone pillar, the heavy combat finally beginning to tax even his vast stamina reserves.
He looked up to the dark, seemingly endless corridor ahead. The air was colder here, thrumming with a deep, resonant hum of ancient, overwhelming power that he could feel vibrating in his teeth. The ruin was growing vastly more dangerous the farther they went. And Aerion knew exactly what was waiting for them at the end of the crypt.
Aerion took the lead, the heavy steel of his Nordic Carved boots thudding with measured purpose against the cracked stone floor. He gestured with a steel clad hand, leading the group toward a wide set of old, petrified wooden stairs that spiraled upward toward the second floor of the excavation.
The structure groaned ominously beneath their combined weight. The sheer, unfathomable age of the crypt was glaringly apparent here. The wooden railings were splintered and gray, the stone walls were fractured by the slow, relentless pressure of the surrounding glacier, and the intricate Nordic animal carvings that lined the stairwell were faded, worn smooth by time and freezing winds.
They ascended the creaking steps with absolute caution. The upper level was a sprawling, shadowed maze of collapsed archways and debris. They navigated the rubble in silence, their eyes scanning the darkness until they located a heavy, iron banded steel door standing defiant amidst the decay.
Aerion pushed the heavy door open.
They stepped into a long, oppressive burial corridor. The architecture here was claustrophobic, the ceiling pressing down low over their heads. Built directly into the walls on both the left and right sides were dozens of ancient, open resting places, shallow stone alcoves where the mummified remains of the city's dead had been laid to rest.
The passage was deathly quiet, save for the soft crackle of Tolfdir's hovering Magelight.
"Keep your eyes on the alcoves," Aerion commanded softly, his metallic voice barely a whisper through the bronze mask. "This ruin has already made it abundantly clear that its dead do not sleep soundly."
Much of the long corridor ahead was completely choked by collapsed stone and shattered pillars, forcing them down a single, winding, practical route through the center. Aerion anchored the vanguard, his hands resting easily on the leather grip of his unsheathed Ebony Greatsword. Tolfdir remained securely in the center of the formation, providing illumination and magical overwatch, while Lydia and Jenassa covered the exposed flanks with their weapons drawn.
The silence did not last long.
As they passed a particularly dense cluster of alcoves, the unmistakable sound of dry, brittle bone scraping against stone echoed through the corridor.
Six Draugr and their slightly better armored Restless counterparts began to peel themselves from their burial niches. Their eyes glowed with a dull, malevolent blue light as they raised rusted iron axes and ancient Nord swords, groaning through desiccated vocal cords.
But against this specific group of intruders, the ancient foot soldiers posed absolutely no threat.
"Clear the flanks," Aerion ordered calmly, not even breaking his stride.
Lydia moved with the brutal, highly efficient precision of a Whiterun Housecarl. As a Restless Draugr lunged at her from an alcove, she stepped into the attack, bringing the heavy edge of her shield up in a devastating bash. The impact shattered the undead warrior's ribcage, throwing it backward against the stone wall. Before it could recover, she drove her sword through its chest, pinning it to the masonry.
On the opposite side, Jenassa was a blur of dark leather and flashing steel. She ducked beneath a clumsy horizontal swing from a standard Draugr, driving her dagger deep into its knee joint to collapse its posture, while seamlessly sweeping her second dagger across its throat, severing the dark magic that animated it.
Aerion provided quiet, lethal support. Whenever a Draugr attempted to slip past the two retainers toward Tolfdir, the High Elf simply stepped into the gap. A single, effortless swing of his massive greatsword cleaved the undead in two, returning them to the dust without slowing the group's momentum.
They left the broken corpses behind, navigating the rubble strewn path until the corridor finally widened, terminating in a long, rectangular hallway.
At the far end of the hall stood a massive, perfectly preserved iron gate. Behind the thick metal bars, illuminated by the faint ambient glow of the ruin, rested a heavy iron lever that clearly controlled the locking mechanism.
However, the path to the gate was blocked. Standing in the center of the hallway were six heavy, rotating stone pillars, three on the left, and three on the right.
Tolfdir stepped forward, his Magelight illuminating the massive, intricately carved stones. Each pillar displayed the faded visages of ancient Atmoran animal totems, the Eagle, the Snake, and the Whale.
"Fascinating," Tolfdir murmured, stroking his white beard as he inspected the heavy stone cylinders. "A classic Nordic combination lock. The lever beyond the gate will undoubtedly trigger a lethal trap, likely poison darts or a fire storm spell, if it is pulled while the pillars are improperly aligned. We must be incredibly careful here."
Aerion stood near the entrance, looking at the pillars. His transmigrator mind instantly overlaid his flawless memory of the game's mechanics onto the physical reality before him. He knew the exact solution immediately. But walking up, spinning the pillars flawlessly, and pulling the lever without a single glance at the environment would betray an impossible level of foresight. He had to play the game.
"The architects of this era rarely built puzzles without providing the key within the same room," Aerion reasoned aloud, his voice steady and analytical. He turned to his retainers. "Lydia, Jenassa. Check the stone walls directly behind each of the rotating pillars. The shadows may be concealing the answer."
Jenassa immediately stepped toward the left side of the room, peering into the dark, narrow gaps between the rotating pillars and the outer walls.
"You have sharp instincts, Patron," Jenassa called out, her voice echoing slightly. "There are small, matching stone plaques carved directly into the masonry behind each pillar. They are nearly invisible in the dark."
"Read them out," Aerion instructed, acting as the coordinating commander. "Match the face of the pillar to the carving hidden behind it."
Jenassa moved down the left side, starting from the pillar nearest to them. "The first carving is an Eagle. The second is a Snake. The farthest is a Whale."
Lydia mirrored her movements on the right side of the hall, inspecting the hidden plaques. "On the right side... the nearest is a Whale. The middle is an Eagle. The farthest is a Whale."
"Excellent work, both of you," Aerion praised them, allowing them to feel the satisfaction of dismantling the ancient security measure. "Align the pillars to match."
The heavy, grinding sound of stone scraping against stone filled the hallway as Lydia and Jenassa put their backs into the work, rotating the massive cylinders until they locked into place.
Left side, from nearest to farthest: Eagle, Snake, and Whale.
Right side, from nearest to farthest: Whale, Eagle, and Whale.
With the final pillar secured, Aerion stepped confidently through the narrow gaps, walking directly up to the iron gate. He reached through the bars, wrapped his steel clad fingers around the heavy iron lever, and pulled downward.
With a deep, mechanical clunk, the heavy gears within the walls engaged. The iron gate slowly rose into the ceiling, the path forward opening completely without triggering a single trap.
Tolfdir walked through the open gateway, looking around the room in deep, genuine appreciation.
"Brilliantly deduced, Aerion," Tolfdir complimented him, offering a warm smile. "Many seasoned adventurers would have simply guessed, or missed the hidden plaques entirely in their haste. You possess the mind of a true scholar, even behind that terrifying mask."
"The clues were simply easier to notice than they first appeared, Master Tolfdir," Aerion answered modestly, bowing his head slightly. "One only needs to know where the architects intended the shadows to fall. Let us continue."
They passed through the newly opened corridor, descending a long, steep flight of worn stone steps that led them deeper into the permafrost.
At the bottom of the stairs, another heavy steel door awaited them. Aerion pushed it open, and the group stepped into a vastly larger, more complex chamber.
The room was expansive, built with high, vaulted ceilings. Two wide, heavy wooden staircases rose along the left and right walls, leading to an upper perimeter balcony. The absolute center of the room was dominated by a massive, raised stone foundation, a central structure that served as a platform leading upward to the next level of the crypt.
Before Aerion could choose which staircase to take, a heavy, metallic thud echoed from the upper balcony.
Aerion's head snapped up.
Dropping from the shadows of the upper level, landing heavily on the central stone foundation, was an entity that made the previous undead look like fragile, hollow toys.
This Draugr was vastly different. It was massive, its mummified flesh thick and hardened like cured leather. It wore ancient, nearly pristine heavy Nordic armor, complete with a distinctive, terrifying horned helmet. But what truly set it apart was the weaponry it carried. In its right hand, it gripped a flawless, razor sharp Ebony Sword. In its left, it held a massive, kite shaped Ebony Shield.
It moved with the terrifying, fluid confidence of an apex predator.
"Deathlord!" Aerion roared, his voice instantly shattering the silence of the chamber.
He knew exactly what this creature was capable of. A Draugr Deathlord wasn't just a physical powerhouse, it was an ancient master of the Voice.
"Jenassa! The mouth! Silence it now!" Aerion commanded, drawing his greatsword.
Jenassa reacted with blinding speed. She drew her bow, nocked an arrow, and fired in less than a heartbeat, aiming directly for the creature's jaw to disrupt its vocal cords.
But she was a fraction of a second too late.
The Deathlord didn't even flinch at the incoming arrow. It raised its ebony shield, deflecting the projectile effortlessly, and drew in a massive, rattling, impossibly deep breath. The ancient power of the Thu'um gathered in its chest, glowing with an intense, fiery light.
"YOL TOOR SHUL!"
The Fire Breath shout exploded from the Deathlord's maw. It was not a simple spell, it was a roaring, catastrophic, hot inferno. A massive, concentrated blast of pure, superheated flame filled the center of the chamber, hurtling directly toward the group with the force of a volcanic eruption.
"Brace!" Tolfdir yelled.
Aerion and Tolfdir reacted instantaneously. They stepped to the very front of the formation, thrusting their hands forward.
Greater Ward!
Two massive, overlapping magical barriers, one shimmering with the golden light of Restoration, the other crackling with Tolfdir's blue arcane energy, sprang into existence just as the inferno struck.
The impact was visually and physically overwhelming. The fire washed over the magical shields like a tidal wave crashing against a breakwater. The heat in the chamber instantly skyrocketed, instantly melting the ancient frost from the stone walls and filling the air with suffocating, blinding steam. The pressure against the wards was immense, physically pushing Aerion's heavy steel boots backward an inch across the stone floor.
Aerion gritted his teeth beneath the bronze mask, actively channeling massive reserves of magicka into his palms to sustain the barrier, shielding Lydia and Jenassa completely from the apocalyptic heat.
The shout lasted for three terrifying seconds before the flames finally dissipated, leaving the stone floor of the chamber scorched black and smoking.
Aerion dropped the ward, his hands smoking slightly. There was no time to breathe.
"Engage!" Aerion ordered, surging forward through the dissipating smoke.
The Deathlord didn't wait for them. It leaped down from the central foundation, landing with a heavy crash, and charged the High Elf, raising its ebony sword for a brutal, overhead cleave.
Aerion met the charge head on. He swung his Ebony Greatsword in a massive, two handed upward arc. The two volcanic glass blades collided with a deafening, ringing CRACK that threw sparks across the dark room.
The Deathlord possessed unimaginable, undead physical strength. It didn't stagger from the parry. It immediately brought its heavy ebony shield around, slamming the flat of the metal directly into Aerion's chest plate.
The shield bash felt like being kicked by a mammoth. The kinetic force reverberated through Aerion's Nordic Carved armor, knocking the wind from his lungs and forcing him a step backward.
Before the Deathlord could capitalize on the opening, Tolfdir intervened.
"Return to the ash!" Tolfdir shouted from the rear.
The old master fired a concentrated, blinding sphere of Sun Fire. The holy magic struck the Deathlord in the shoulder. The undead commander shrieked as the purifying light burned away a chunk of its ancient armor, staggering it and disrupting its lethal rhythm.
Lydia seized the opening perfectly.
"For Whiterun!" Lydia roared, charging into the fray. She slammed her own iron shield into the side of the Deathlord's knee, attempting to buckle its stance.
The Deathlord recovered with terrifying speed. It ignored the shield bash, spinning smoothly and bringing its ebony sword around in a vicious horizontal sweep aimed at Lydia's neck.
Lydia threw her shield up, catching the blow, but the sheer force of the Ebony blade bit deeply into the rim of her steel shield, nearly knocking it from her grip and dropping her to one knee.
"Keep it off balance!" Aerion commanded, stepping back into the fight. "Do not let it draw breath!"
Aerion recognized the creature's pattern. Every time it created distance, its chest began to glow. Preventing a second Fire Breath shout was their absolute highest priority.
Jenassa was already moving to execute the order. The assassin abandoned her bow in the close quarters chaos. She slid beneath the Deathlord's wide shield guard, driving both of her daggers upward into the vulnerable, unarmored gaps beneath the creature's arms.
The Deathlord roared in fury, attempting to backhand Jenassa with the heavy shield, but Aerion was already there.
Aerion swung his greatsword in a devastating, sweeping strike aimed directly at the creature's throat. The Deathlord was forced to abandon its attack on Jenassa, throwing its ebony shield up to block Aerion's heavy blade.
The sheer, overwhelming pressure of the four on one assault finally began to crack the ancient warrior's defenses.
Tolfdir maintained a steady, precise stream of support. Whenever the Deathlord attempted to gather breath for a shout, Tolfdir would hit it with a perfectly timed blast of Turn Undead, the holy magic burning its flesh and forcing it to stagger, entirely disrupting the vocalization of the Thu'um. Whenever Lydia or Jenassa took a glancing blow from the ebony sword, Tolfdir instantly bathed them in a warm pulse of Healing Hands, keeping the vanguard on their feet.
The Deathlord fought with the skill of a general who had conquered continents, but it was being systematically dismantled.
Aerion found the final opening.
Lydia threw her entire weight into a desperate, two handed shield bash that violently knocked the Deathlord's ebony shield out of alignment, exposing its chest.
Jenassa darted in, slashing the tendons in the back of the creature's knees, dropping it to a kneeling position. Aerion stepped forward, raising the Ebony Greatsword high above his head. He brought the massive, razor sharp blade down with all of his augmented, transmigrator strength. The dark metal cleaved effortlessly through the ancient horned helmet, splitting the Deathlord's skull and driving deep into its chest cavity.
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 710/710 Stamina: 740/740 Magicka: 950/950
Level: 200
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Dragon Master (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+4)/Lightning(+2)/Frost(+2)) (Level 73/91/70), Restoration (Healing(+2)/Purify(+2)) (Level 50/75), Alteration (Level 35), Illusion (Level 50), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning(+1)) (Level 37/90), Persuasion(+2) (Level 19), Smithing (Level 57), Sneak(+1) (Level 33), One Handed(+1) (Level 72), Two Handed (Level 81), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting(+1) (Level 2), Light Armor(+2) (Level 0), Block (Level 70), & Pickpocket (Level 8)
Shouts: Fus Roh Dah (Force Balance Push), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), Feim Zii Gron (Fade Spirit Bind), Su (Air), Laas (Life), Yol Toor (Fire Inferno), Kaan (Kyne), & Zul Mey Gut (Voice Fool Far)
[Inventory Panel]
1x Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Mammoth Tusk, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Golden Staff of Flames, Parchment Rolls Of Mammoths Farm And Loan, Ebony Claw, Orcish Dagger, The Mirror, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Reanimate Corpse Tome, Staff of Lightning, Deed to Tundra Homestead, Sapphire, Ruby, Dawnbreaker, Traveling Backpack (Supplies), Potion of Minor Magicka, Vampire Armor, Vampire Boots, Movarth's Golden Ash (Unique), Dwarven Sword, Elven Dagger, Potion of Healing, Gold Emerald Circlet, Scroll of Fire Storm, Iron Garnet Circlet, Iron Sapphire Circlet, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Glass Boots, Dwarven Sword, Dwarven Shield, Wuuthrad's Fragments, Staff of Fireball, Mage Boots Of Weight, & Master Robes Of Destruction
2x Common Soul Gem (Empty), Black Soul Gem (Empty), Elven Sword, Amethysts, Potions of Plentiful Magicka, Scroll of Conjure Familiar, & Scroll of Magelight
3x Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, Flawless Sapphires, Gold Necklace, Iron Necklace, Petty Soul Gem (Filled), & Potions of Minor Magicka
4x Spider Eggs, Garnets, & Common Soul Gem (Filled)
5x Lesser Soul Gem (Filled)
7x Vampires Dust
8x Iron Arrows & Ancient Nord Arrows
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
12x Black Soul Gem (Filled)
Weight: 92.41 KG / 670 KG
Septims: 81,082