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Aerion already knew the solution perfectly from his memories of the game. Hawk, Whale, Snake, Whale. But he could not simply rotate the pillars into the correct sequence without arousing immense suspicion. "Spread out," Aerion ordered, stepping back from the pillars. "Search the surrounding walls, the rubble, and the stone reliefs for clues. I will not always be here to solve the locks for you."
He crossed his arms, acting as though he were studying the puzzle alongside them. The apprentices immediately went to work, eager to prove their academic worth.
They scoured the walls with their Mage Lights. Within two minutes, J'zargo let out a triumphant hiss. "Here!" the Khajiit called out, pointing to a series of carved stone panels partially obscured by cobwebs on the wall behind them. "The totems are depicted in sequence."
Aerion walked over, praising the discovery. He used the visual clues to guide the group back to the pillars.
"Turn them," Aerion instructed. "Hawk. Whale. Snake. Whale."
Onmund and Eisa rotated the heavy stone pillars until the exact sequence was aligned. Aerion stepped up to the lever mounted beside the gate and pulled it downward.
The ancient mechanism groaned loudly, the heavy gears grinding deep within the walls, and the iron gate slowly lifted open.
"Excellent work, J'zargo," Aerion praised the apprentice, offering a brief nod. "Observation is as vital as casting."
They proceeded through the gate, the passage rapidly opening up into a massive, multi level chamber.
The structure was breathtakingly vertical. It rose several stories high, with rickety wooden platforms and ancient stone walkways connecting the different levels over a flooded lower floor. The group stood on a stone overlook, and could only reach the second-floor wooden walkways from their current position.
The chamber was crawling with Draugr.
But the true threat was standing in the absolute center of the room, positioned atop a round, elevated stone pillar on the third floor that offered a commanding view of the entire chamber.
It was a Draugr Deathlord.
The moment Aerion saw the towering, heavily armored monstrosity, and more importantly, the massive Ebony Bow gripped in its mummified hands, he recognized the extreme level of danger.
"Take cover!" Aerion roared.
A split second later, a heavy, black fletched ancient Nordic arrow struck the stone where Brelyna had just been standing, shattering the granite with the force of a ballista bolt.
"Jenassa! Focus entirely on the Deathlord! Keep it suppressed!" Aerion issued rapid fire orders, crouching behind a stone pillar. "Apprentices! Ignore the weaker Draugr on the walkways! Concentrate your spells entirely on the Deathlord! Do not let it draw that bow freely!"
The combat shifted into a highly tactical, incredibly dangerous ranged duel.
Jenassa stepped out from cover, her Dwarven bow drawn to her cheek. She fired rapidly, her arrows sparking against the Deathlord's heavy ebony armor, forcing the undead general to step back and re adjust its aim.
The apprentices struggled initially. The Deathlord was constantly shifting its position on the high central pillar, using the stone columns for cover while raining lethal arrows down on the wooden walkways. Fighting a highly dangerous ranged enemy while moving across uneven, rickety terrain was vastly different from shooting bandits in a crowded camp.
An arrow tore through the wooden planks right between Onmund's boots, nearly pinning his foot.
"Keep moving!" Aerion barked, deflecting an arrow with the flat of his greatsword. He directed the apprentices with short, sharp commands over the din of battle. "Target the legs! Drive it away from the stairs! Watch your upward angles, Brelyna, do not clip the wood above you!"
Under Aerion's intense, real time coaching, the apprentices adapted. They stopped trying to hit the Deathlord's heavily armored chest and began targeting the stone floor beneath it. Brelyna's Ice Storms coated the top of the pillar in slick frost, while J'zargo's lightning forced the Deathlord to constantly shuffle to avoid the area of effect damage.
Their combined, relentless magical suppression, paired with Jenassa's precision sniping, finally forced the Deathlord to remain on the defensive.
But the undead warlord was incredibly resilient, stepping through the fire and drawing the Ebony Bow back for a lethal shot aimed directly at Eisa.
Aerion did not let it fire.
He stepped out from behind the pillar, his left hand glowing with terrifying, concentrated energy. He didn't use a standard spell. He unleashed an Elemental Blast.
The sphere of superheated plasma and lightning crossed the massive chamber in a heartbeat. It struck the Deathlord squarely in the center of its chest plate.
The explosion was deafening. The concussive shockwave shattered the stone railing of the high pillar. The Deathlord was violently lifted off its feet and thrown backward into the open air. It plummeted three stories, crashing into the flooded ground floor below with a tremendous, bone-shattering impact.
The massive chamber fell dead silent, the water rippling outward from the Deathlord's shattered corpse.
Aerion slowly lowered his hand, his golden eyes sweeping the upper walkways to ensure the lesser Draugr had been cleared in the crossfire.
The fight had been long, grueling, and highly tactical. The apprentices were panting heavily, leaning against the stone walls, but they were entirely unharmed. And the deeper, tragic secrets of Geirmund's Hall were waiting to be uncovered.
The massive, multi level chamber echoed with the fading ripples of the dark water.
Aerion descended the wooden stairs, his heavy steel boots splashing into the flooded lower floor. He walked over to the shattered remains of the Draugr Deathlord, the towering undead warlord completely broken by the impact of the Elemental Blast. He knelt in the freezing water and pulled the massive, master crafted Ebony Bow from its mummified grip.
He stood up and walked back to the stone overlook where the group was recovering.
He held the pristine, black volcanic glass bow out to Jenassa.
"Take this," Aerion instructed calmly. "It is vastly superior to your Dwarven bow. When we return to civilization, I will help you improve it by giving a proper enchantment upon it."
Jenassa looked at the weapon, her crimson eyes gleaming with quiet, predatory appreciation. She didn't gasp or become overly emotional, she simply accepted the bow, testing its immense weight in her hands.
"An excellent tool, Patron," Jenassa remarked smoothly, her tone perfectly restrained. "It will make my work considerably more efficient."
Before pushing deeper into the crypt, Aerion stopped the group. He turned his golden eyes upon them, checking for injuries. The long, highly tactical firefight against the Deathlord had not been bloodless. There were no severed limbs or fatal wounds, but the group had suffered several cuts from flying stone shrapnel, deep bruises from near miss arrows, and the exhausting, lingering chill of the damp air.
"Gather around," Aerion commanded gently.
He raised his hands, the golden, pure light of Restoration magic beginning to pool in his palms. He healed Eisa's bruised shoulder and mended a shallow cut on Onmund's cheek.
As he worked, Aerion noticed Brelyna watching him with intense, genuine fascination. Of the three apprentices, the Dark Elf had always possessed the strongest natural aptitude for Restoration magic. J'zargo and Onmund were drawn to the raw, visceral power of Destruction and the utility of Alteration, but Brelyna respected the delicate, vital weave of healing.
Aerion lowered his hands, gesturing for Brelyna to step forward.
"Brelyna," Aerion prompted softly. "Lydia has a contusion on her forearm from a deflected arrow. I want you to heal it."
Brelyna hesitated, looking nervously at the towering Housecarl, but Lydia offered a stiff, encouraging nod. Brelyna raised her hands, summoning a basic Healing spell. A faint, flickering yellow light washed over Lydia's arm.
Aerion secretly engaged the cosmic perception of the Eye of Magnus. He saw exactly where the young Dark Elf was struggling. Her magicka flow was bottlenecking in her wrists, preventing the restorative energy from fully anchoring to the wounded flesh.
"Do not push the light at the skin, Brelyna," Aerion corrected quietly, standing beside her. "You are treating it like a shield. Restoration must be woven. Open your palms. Let the magicka sink beneath the surface, into the muscle itself."
Brelyna adjusted her grip, flattening her hands and slowing her breathing. The flickering yellow light instantly smoothed into a deep, steady, radiant gold. The dark purple bruise on Lydia's forearm rapidly faded, the skin knitting perfectly together in seconds.
Brelyna smiled brightly, profoundly pleased with the tangible result.
"Excellent," Aerion praised her, the improvement feeling gradual and entirely earned.
With the group fully healed and restored, they climbed the worn, creaking wooden stairs toward the second floor of the chamber. At the top of the landing, resting in eternal silence on a cold stone table, lay the mummified body of an ancient Draugr.
Beside the body sat a small, weathered stone pedestal. Resting on top was a tattered, crumbling piece of parchment.
Aerion picked up the ancient script, his eyes scanning the faded ink.
"This is the body of Arch-Mage Geirmund," Aerion announced softly.
The name instantly sparked recognition among the three young scholars.
"Geirmund?" Onmund repeated, stepping closer, his eyes wide with shock. "The personal battlemage to High King Harald in the First Era? The man who defeated the Cult of the Dragon?"
"The very same," Aerion confirmed.
"But what is an Arch-Mage of such historical magnitude doing buried in a flooded cavern?" J'zargo asked, his tail twitching in confusion. "This is not a tomb befitting a hero of the First Era."
Aerion folded the parchment carefully. "Geirmund's story is inextricably tied to an ancient, deliberately erased chapter of history. The history of the Gauldur brothers."
The apprentices listened intently.
"The three brothers murdered their father, Arch-Mage Gauldur, and stole his shattered amulet, using its power to lay waste to the surrounding villages," Aerion explained, his voice low and serious. "High King Harald dispatched Geirmund to hunt them down. Geirmund tracked one of the brothers to this very cave, and they fought a devastating magical duel. Geirmund was victorious, but he fell in the battle. The King ordered this tomb built to seal the brother away forever, and left Geirmund here as his eternal warden."
He paused, letting the weight of the history settle, before revealing the most shocking detail.
"One of the other brothers, Jyrik Gauldurson, was sealed in the deepest chambers of Saarthal," Aerion continued. "He was the primary guardian that Master Tolfdir and I defeated just a few days ago."
The apprentices stared at the High Elf in absolute, stunned silence. They had assumed Aerion had fought a strong Draugr Deathlord in Saarthal. They had absolutely no idea he had personally engaged and destroyed a legendary, First Era warlord who had literally required an group of battle mages to suppress.
"Understand this," Aerion said, his tone turning incredibly stern. "The entities connected to this story are not ordinary Draugr. They are very powerful figures from antiquity. The enemies we may face in the depths of this crypt are vastly beyond what you are currently capable of handling alone."
He looked directly into their eyes. "And what I have just told you is an absolute secret. You are not to repeat the name Gauldur, or the story of his sons, to other students, to the scholars of the Arcaneum, or to any strangers we meet on the road. Do you understand me?"
"We understand, Expert Aerion," Brelyna promised quickly, the other two nodding in solemn agreement.
Lydia and Jenassa remained mostly silent during the history lesson. They had saw themselves what happened in Saarthal, and they implicitly knew that their Patron possessed vast reserves of dangerous knowledge that he chose to keep hidden from the public eye.
Aerion turned back to Geirmund's corpse. He noticed a heavy, ornate iron key resting loosely in the Arch-Mage's skeletal hand. He carefully removed it, offering a brief, silent nod of respect to the ancient mage, and approached the nearby iron door.
The lock clicked heavily, and the group proceeded deeper into the crypt.
The passages beyond were narrow, dark, and highly infested. Massive, dense sheets of spider webs choked the corridors, forcing Aerion to frequently cast controlled bursts of fire to clear the path.
The undead presence escalated rapidly. They encountered numerous Restless Draugr and several heavily armored Draugr Scourges. However, the fights now felt incredibly efficient. The group had become deeply accustomed to working together.
The apprentices were contributing consistently, without needing constant micromanagement. Brelyna seamlessly transitioned between casting offensive Frostbite spells and throwing quick Healing bursts to Eisa on the frontline. Onmund and J'zargo focused their Destruction magic perfectly, breaking the Draugr formations before they could swarm. Eisa, Lydia, and Jenassa handled the physical threats with brutal, synchronized melee tactics.
Aerion guided the group from the center, his Ebony Greatsword swinging only when a Scourge broke through the vanguard.
Eventually, a cluster of three Draugr Scourges blocked a narrow passage. After a hard but entirely manageable, highly coordinated fight, the undead warriors fell.
Aerion sheathed his sword, his eyes catching sight of a mechanical puzzle built into the wall near the path.
There were two distinct levers. One was mounted obviously on the wall directly in front of them, clearly connected to a heavy wooden drawbridge further down the passage. The other lever was positioned several paces further back, slightly obscured by shadows.
"Wait," Aerion ordered sharply, just as Eisa reached for the obvious lever.
He pointed to a series of small, perfectly round holes drilled into the stone wall directly beside the first lever. "That is a decoy mechanism. It is connected to a localized spear trap. If you pull it, you will be impaled."
He walked past the decoy, stepping into the shadows to grab the second, safer lever. He pulled it downward. A heavy mechanical groan echoed through the corridor, and the drawbridge ahead lowered smoothly into place.
The group crossed the bridge.
The moment Aerion's boots hit the far side, he spotted movement in the upper shadows. Another Draugr Deathlord was positioned on an elevated stone ledge, drawing a heavy bow.
Aerion did not hesitate. He raised his hand and fired a concentrated Elemental Blast into the darkness. The superheated plasma struck the Deathlord before it could even notch an arrow, bringing the mummified warlord down in a shower of sparks and shattered bone.
Aerion found a second lever mechanism hidden nearby, pulling it to lower a final drawbridge, allowing the group to proceed further into the depths.
They encountered several more pockets of Draugr, but none possessed the terrifying strength of a Deathlord. The skirmishes remained active and bloody enough to keep everyone highly alert, but the group moved with the relentless, unyielding momentum of a trained military unit.
As they navigated through a particularly dark, narrow corridor, Jenassa suddenly stopped dead.
"Hold," Jenassa hissed softly, pointing one of her daggers at the floor.
Embedded almost seamlessly into the dusty stone tiles was a raised, square pressure plate. The group carefully, nervously stepped around the lethal trigger, their respect for the deadly ingenuity of the ancient Nords reaffirmed.
Eventually, the narrow passage opened into a massive, final chamber.
The only way forward was to jump down a short distance from their current stone ledge. Below them lay a vast, partially flooded lower chamber, the dark, freezing water reaching just above their ankles. Two massive, towering stone pedestals dominated the far side of the room, flanking a raised central platform.
Aerion crouched on the ledge, studying the chamber carefully.
Unlike the apprentices, he knew exactly what was waiting in the dark. He recognized the specific architectural layout of Sigdis Gauldurson's final burial chamber. He also knew exactly how the ancient, treacherous warlord fought.
"Listen to me carefully," Aerion commanded, keeping his voice incredibly low. He turned to the apprentices. "J'zargo, Onmund, Brelyna. You will drop down first, but you will not advance. You will position yourselves behind those low stone pillars near the entrance. You will maintain a clear line of sight, but you must have solid stone cover immediately available."
He looked at them sternly. "You are not to leave those positions unless absolutely necessary. Your job is entirely ranged support. Do you understand?"
They nodded, dropping down into the shallow water and immediately moving behind the thick stone pillars.
"Eisa, Lydia, Jenassa," Aerion instructed the vanguard. "You are with me. We take the center."
Aerion led the three warriors down into the freezing water. They waded purposefully across the flooded floor, approaching the raised, circular iron platform in the center of the chamber.
Sitting atop the platform, heavy and silent, was a massive steel coffin.
Everyone in the group tightened their grip on their weapons, fully expecting a powerful undead guardian to burst forth.
They were not wrong.
With a deafening, metallic screech, the heavy steel lid of the coffin violently blasted open.
Sigdis Gauldurson rose from his eternal slumber. He was a towering, terrifying figure, wearing heavy ancient Nordic armor, a jagged, horned iron helmet resting on his mummified head.
For a brief, tense moment, he stood alone on the platform.
And then, the ancient, treacherous magic activated.
Brilliant, blinding flashes of purple black arcane energy tore through the damp air of the chamber. With a sound like tearing silk, three absolutely identical versions of Sigdis Gauldurson suddenly materialized in the room.
Two of the copies teleported instantly onto the massive, elevated stone pedestals flanking the room. The original remained in the absolute center, directly behind them. There was no easy path forward. The chamber had instantly transformed into a perfectly designed, unavoidable killing ground.
Before Aerion's frontline could fully register the impossible duplication, the two elevated Sigdis copies inhaled deeply.
"FUS... RO DAH!"
The deafening, concussive roar of the ancient Thu'um echoed through the cavern.
Aerion reacted with blinding, inhuman speed. He threw both hands forward, instantly casting two massive, overlapping Greater Ward spells, throwing himself directly between the incoming shouts and his retainers.
The sheer, devastating kinetic force of the Unrelenting Force slammed into the magical barriers. Aerion absorbed the absolute brunt of the impact, his wards cracking under the pressure, but the residual shockwave still threw him, Eisa, Lydia, and Jenassa violently backward.
They crashed heavily into the freezing, flooded water.
Lydia scrambled instantly to her feet, water pouring from her armor, her eyes darting frantically to the High Elf. "My Thane! Are you injured?!"
"I am fine!" Aerion barked, waving her off and rising to his feet, drawing his Ebony Greatsword.
The battle began in absolute, chaotic earnest.
"Apprentices! Stay behind cover and fire!" Aerion roared over the din. "The rest of you! Engage the elevated copies!"
He shouted the most critical instruction, ensuring everyone understood the lethal gimmick of the fight.
"The true Sigdis is the one wearing the horned helmet!" Aerion commanded. "The other two are magical copies! Do not ignore them though, they are not harmless illusions! They possess physical strength!"
Eisa, Lydia, and Jenassa didn't hesitate. They surged through the shallow water, moving aggressively toward the stone pedestals to force the two copies down. Their tactical goal was to drag the illusions off the high ground and into the flooded water, where the melee terrain was vastly more favorable.
The copies responded with terrifying aggression. They swung ancient Nordic weapons and unleashed localized bursts of the Thu'um, trying to keep the warriors at bay.
At the same time, standing in the center of the chamber, the real Sigdis Gauldurson drew his legendary weapon, the Gauldur Black Bow. It resembled an ancient Nordic bow, but it glowed with a sickly, draining enchantment. He began firing massive, dark arrows with devastating accuracy from the center of the room.
The battle descended into pure, terrifying chaos.
The apprentices hurled Firebolts and Ice Storms from behind their stone pillars, trying desperately to suppress the copies without exposing themselves to the true Sigdis's lethal arrows. Jenassa fired her new Ebony Bow while sprinting between cover, her arrows finding the joints in the copies' armor. Lydia and Eisa fought furiously, their shields ringing as they tried to corner the illusions.
Aerion remained in the center of the flooded floor, acting as a heavily armored anchor. He was constantly watching the three versions of the warlord, his golden eyes tracking the horned helmet as the entities violently shifted positions, teleporting across the chamber in flashes of purple magic to disorient the group.
The copies were incredibly convincing. In the dark, wet chaos of the fight, even experienced fighters like Lydia were struggling to keep track of the real target. Aerion knew the pattern, but leading a group that had never faced anything like this was a logistical nightmare.
Suddenly, all three versions of Sigdis stopped firing their bows. They inhaled simultaneously, cycling their attacks.
"FUS... RO!"
The battlefield became almost impossible to control. Repeated, localized blasts of the Thu'um sent the warriors stumbling blindly through the shallow water. Aerion was forced to repeatedly cast Greater Wards, burning his infinite Magicka just to keep the apprentices and his retainers from being crushed against the stone walls.
The pressure built rapidly. The Black Bow was firing relentlessly, the copies were overwhelming the flanks, and the water was churning with violence.
Aerion realized, with a cold, absolute certainty, that simply playing defense and waiting out the Shouts was no longer viable. They were being actively pushed back, and someone was going to die.
He was being forced into a choice he desperately wanted to avoid.
He had spent immense effort keeping his personal mastery of the Thu'um a complete, absolute secret from everyone around him. He did not want Lydia, Jenassa, Eisa, or the apprentices to witness him using the Voice unless there was absolutely no other option.
But Sigdis drew the Black Bow again, aiming directly at Brelyna's exposed pillar.
Aerion made the choice.
He dropped his Ward. He took a deep, grounding breath, drawing the freezing air deep into his lungs, and locked his golden eyes onto the true Sigdis wearing the horned helmet.
He released the ancient power.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The sheer, devastating, world shaking power of Aerion's Thu'um erupted from his lips. It wasn't the ragged, decayed shout of a Draugr, it was a pristine hurricane of kinetic force.
The shout tore across the flooded chamber, slamming directly into the real Sigdis Gauldurson. The impact was catastrophic. The ancient warlord was lifted entirely off his feet, thrown violently backward through the air, and smashed brutally against the far stone wall.
For a brief, stunning moment, the entire battlefield froze.
The apprentices stopped casting, their eyes wide with absolute, unadulterated shock, staring at the High Elf as if he had just grown wings. Lydia and Jenassa froze in the water, deeply surprised, but their hardened instincts instantly screamed that this was not the time to ask questions.
Aerion did not waste the opening.
He rushed forward, his boots throwing up massive sprays of water, closing the distance to the stunned Sigdis before the other two copies could teleport or interfere.
The true Sigdis struggled to rise, raising the Black Bow defensively.
Aerion's Ebony Greatsword came down in a blinding, brutal arc. He slashed heavily across the ancient warlord's armor, breaking his guard, and immediately followed with a devastating, two-handed thrust, driving the volcanic glass straight into the gap in Sigdis's sternum.
Sigdis let out a hollow, rattling gasp. He collapsed backward into the shallow water.
The moment the true warlord died, the two copies instantly destabilized. The dark magic holding them together violently broke apart, their forms shattering into harmless clouds of purple mist that drifted away on the damp air.
Sigdis Gauldurson was finally truly dead.
The chamber fell utterly silent, save for the heavy, ragged breathing of the exhausted group and the soft rippling of the water.
Aerion stood over the corpse of the ancient warlord, wiping the dark fluid from his greatsword. He remained outwardly perfectly composed, his face hidden behind the bronze mask. But internally, Aerion realized exactly what he had just done. He had just revealed his greatest secret. The three College apprentices, Eisa, and his retainers had just witnessed a High Elf, a mer who had never once publicly established himself as Dragonborn, shout with the power of the Voice. Aerion turned slowly around to face his group. He needed to decide exactly what he was going to tell them.
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 860/860
Stamina: 900/900
Magicka: 980/980 [External Capacity & Regeneration: ∞]
Level: 231
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Dragon Master (MAX LEVEL), Eye Of Magnus (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+5)/Lightning(+2)/Frost(+2)) (Level 0/91/70), Restoration (Healing(+2)/Purify(+2)) (Level 50/98), Alteration (Level 35), Illusion (Level 50), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning(+1)) (Level 37/90), Persuasion(+2) (Level 83), Smithing (Level 57), Sneak(+1) (Level 64), One Handed(+2) (Level 0), Two Handed(+1) (Level 29), Lockpicking (Level 55), Archery(+1) (Level 0), Enchanting(+1) (Level 23), Light Armor(+2) (Level 10), Block (Level 70), Pickpocket (Level 8), & Heavy Armor (Level 59)
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), & IIZ (Ice)
[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, & Staff of Jyrik Gauldurson
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: 93.41 KG / 750 KG
Septims: 77,867