Mists on the Mountains

Chapter 8: The Barrow at Bleak Falls

Chapter 8

The Barrow at Bleak Falls

"While Bleak Falls Barrow remains a popular holdout for bandits, few venture beyond the first few levels. Long rumoured to be haunted, the Barrow has claimed the lives of all who dare to try for its depths. Its treasure, the legendary Dragonstone, has never been removed or even confirmed to exist."-Excerpt from "Holdings of Jarl Gjalund." Written by Handar Lore-Delver. Published 3E 58

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Young Hammel knew it was a stupid idea. He was nowhere near as agile as Oryn, lacking the Dunmer's natural agility. It was a long jump and he was hungry and tired.

Despite all that, Hammel Greymist was going to jump. No one could call him a coward.

"Alright, give me space!" He gave Meat-Pies a small shove backward, looking at Oryn defiantly.

Hopping up and down in an attempt to get his blood flowing, Hammel backed up a few steps and took a running start.

Leaping off the building with all his might, Hammel felt for just a moment, like he was flying. The wind rushed past his hair, the ground was far below. It was exhilarating.

Pity that glorious moment was shattered by cold failure.

His jump was too short by several feet and Hammel plummeted to the cobblestone below. A painful crack echoed throughout Solitude as young boy met rock. Darkness took him.

He was fading in and out of consciousness. Every so often, his eyes would flutter and he saw a glimpse of Oryn and Pies dragging him along.

"It's gonna be okay, Hammel," Pies whispered intently, "You're gonna be fine!"

Hammel knew Meat Pies was just trying to be encouraging, but the last thing he wanted to know was just how close his friends were to absolute panic.

When he finally woke, he was laying in his bed. It was rickety, and the blankets were thin and worn, but they were his. Despite the pounding in his skull, and a lump roughly the size of a baby horker blossoming out of his temple, he felt at peace. That's what being home did for him.

A damp, warm cloth was being rubbed tenderly across his forehead, while a gentle voice whispered, "Poor baby. Mum's here now. You'll be okay."

Elliana Greymist was, in a word, faded. Her hair was a long, stringy blonde, like wool not fully spun. Her eyes were sunken, her forehead lined and creased. She still had most of her teeth, minus her right canine and both back molars. She seemed stretched and worn. Her only feature with any remaining vigour was her eyes. Despite all the hardship Elliana suffered, they still sparkled like stars. Sometimes they reminded him of the night sky, dark but filled with warmth.

Rubbing the warm rag across his throbbing head, his mother looked down at him tenderly. "What happened baby?" Her gaze fell across his bruised forehead. "You weren't awake when your friends brought you. They said you fell off a roof?"

His tongue felt fat, forming the words through his muddled mind was difficult. "Yeah." He nodded, his head pounding harder with each shake.

She made a clucking noise, like a mother hen, "There there. I'm here now, you're home and you're safe. Everything's gonna be alright."

The door to the small room they lived in shook as someone pounded on it violently. "Open up, Greymist! I know you're in there and I've got a hankering!" The voice was male, crude and rough. The words were slurred because the man was drunk, and wouldn't have enough teeth to properly pronounce them even if wasn't.