We eased our heads around a stone outcropping into a large, well-lit cavern ahead. Natural light reflected down from cracks in the ceiling, and oil lamps were lit. Either someone came down here often, or the Stormcloaks had lit them on the way through. It didn't matter, really. There were five visible, armed with a variety of weapons and armors, many probably looted from bodies here in the keep.
We could see that the apparent leader, a strong-voiced female who could have been easily mistaken for a wall or building, was ordering the group to scout around for supplies and watch the entrances for 'Imperial scum'. I guess that was us. Two of the party broke off and started toward us. One had a slim longbow and the other was armed with a hammer that must have been as long as he was tall.
I could hear Hadvar's fist flexing as he gripped his sword tighter and I realized that I'd left mine behind in the dead man's neck. I panicked for a second and shifted back...there. Hadvar's had a knife on his belt...it looked pitiful against that hammer, but once it was in my hand I felt a lot better, and that angry side of me couldn't wait to stick that knife into some Nord scum.
The first one went down almost without a sound. Hadvar was just tensing to launch himself forward when I slipped around him, low and fast, and drove my knife up under the hammer guy's chain tunic. For a second, I was afraid my hand would get tangled, but I managed to get it out and silence him with the edge of my shield as I rose. He fell to the ground, stunned and bleeding out. His partner with the bow didn't hesitate though, and I heard him yell and reach for an arrow.
I could see the rest of the men turn and start to converge on us and I thought to myself that we'd bitten off a lot more than we could handle, and then an arrow whizzed by my head and I charged the archer in front of me before he could loose another shot.
From behind me I heard screams and the sound of sword on shield and I knew that Hadvar had joined in the fight, but I only had time to pay attention to my own problems. I remember slicing the archer's bow string, and almost taking the bow in my face when the arms released tension. I remember the look in his remaining eye when I managed to stick my dagger in his other one. I remember turning around quickly in response to something I didn't consciously hear and catching a viscious strike on my shield, and the feel of my knife slamming home in his throat and something hit me in the side and it was hard to breathe but I couldn't stop yet. I leaned down and picked up one of the dropped weapons, a nasty looking war pick that should pierce through armor like it wasn't even there and then I was swinging my new pick at the enemy leader just as she was rearing back to deliver a punishing strike to Hadvar and then the fight was over.
I pressed my hand to my side and tried to take a deep breath. It was easier than it should have been..I could feel the damage to my armor. I tried it myself, a whisptered word, "Lasvaat", and it was hard to concentrate on that one word, like being told not to think about something...an effort of will that was rewarded when I took another keep breath and there was no pain.
Hadvar's smirking voice came from nearby, derisive, "Magic and blade together, eh halfbreed?" and all I could see was red.
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