Legends of Skyrim: The Wood Orc (BOOK ONE)

IV - Proving Honour

As dawn rose over Whiterun, Durag slowly rose from his bed. It was undoubtedly early morning, his Shield-Siblings had not yet risen, at least not the Whelps. Stretching and donning his mask, he groggily trudged up the stairs for some breakfast. Sitting at the table around the fire, he slowly dug into some deer. It tasted a little off, so it must have been left-over from the previous night. "There you are." Durag turned to see Skjor pulling the chair out beside him.
"You wanted to see me?" the Orc asked after swallowing.
"I did," Skjor pulled himself a bowl, "Your time, it seems, has come. Last week a scholar came to us. He said he knew where we could find another fragment of Wuuthrad. He seemed a fool to me, but if he's right, the honour of the Companions demand that we seek it out."
After taking another bite, Durag asked, "Why am I being sent to retrieve this? This seems like a matter for more experienced Shield-Siblings."
"We've decided this will be your trial, New Blood," Skjor took a quick sip from his flagon, "Do well, and you'll be counted among the Companions. Farkas will be your Shield-Brother on this venture, Whelp. He'll answer any questions you have. Try not to disappoint. Or to get him killed."
Durag immediately went back to his room to grab his bow. He looked it over; the string was jaded and worn. He'd no doubt have to replace it soon. As he slung his quiver over his back, he heard Farkas say, "I hope you've prepared yourself."
"I'm ready." Durag slung his bow over his shoulder.
"Let's see if you impress." Farkas turned and began walking up the steps.

Dustman's Cairn was a Nordic Ruin located a day's travel North-East of Whiterun. Like other burial sites spotted throughout Skyrim, this one was no doubt once a place of worship for Dragons, which had been extinct during the Merethic Era. Durag was sceptical of the existence of such monsters, but he relented that, if shown sufficient evidence, he would believe. He and Farkas looked at the opening in the ground, an iron door leading into the earth before them. "Who exactly was this scholar?" Durag questioned.
"A smart man came and told us about a blade piece," Farkas jumped down and held the door open, "Skjor thinks you should find it, and I'm supposed to watch you."
As he entered, and the door slammed shut behind them, Durag lit one of his arrows and held it above his head as the two descended into the darkness. "What is Wuuthrad?" the Orc asked.
"Ysgramor was the hero who started the Companions," Farkas explained, keeping in front of the Whelp, "Wuuthrad was his weapon. He came from the ancient homeland and killed all the Elves. But obviously not all of them, because some of them are still here."
As the staircase down stopped, Durag extinguished his arrow as lit torches started dotting the walls of a more open room. Farkas drew his sword. "Looks like someone's been digging here," he warned, "And recently. Be careful around the burial stones. I don't want to haul you back to Jorrvaskr on my back."
Durag noticed that most of the coffins had been opened, but there were no sign of the bodies.

Directly before the two Companions was a shut gate, behind it another hallway leading around to the right. Torchlight flickered off the walls from just out of view, and Durag could swear that, at one point, something moved past the light, but neither he or Farkas heard anything. "Old Nord sacrifice place," Farkas examined the carvings on the walls, "Let's look for a way to open the bars."
In a room to the left, opposite the gate, Durag noticed a lever on the wall. he walked through into the room and pulled it. For a split second, a smile crawled onto his face as he heard the bars slowly lift. This relief then turned to frustration and shock as another gate fell, cutting him off from Farkas. He rushed to the gate and tried to lift it, but looking down he could see another mechanism in the floor, pinning the spikes in place. As he fell to his knees, resting his masked face against the bars, he heard Farkas, undoubtedly with a smirk, chide him, "Now look what you've gotten yourself into."
Farkas could sense the glare and stepped back. "No worries," he cracked his neck, "Just sit tight. I'll find the release."
Suddenly, from the newly open gate, four bandits in silver armour burst from the darkness and surrounded Farkas, all unsheathing silver weapons. "It's time to die, dog!" one of them cried, ""We knew you'd be coming here. Your mistake, Companion."
"Which one is that?" a second asked, gesturing to Durag.
"It doesn't matter," a third gripped his sword tighter, "He walks with them, he dies. Killing you will make for an excellent story."
To Durag's surprise, Farkas dropped his sword. "None of you will be alive to tell it." he whispered.