Chapter 25 - Restoring Honour
****
"Found yourselves in many of these ruins before, Ragnar?" Farkas asked as we turned onto the road that would take us to the ruin.
"Once or twice."
He gave me a sideways glance. "Uh-huh."
"Don't want to sound overly arrogant. But I've dealt with draugr and other monsters before. Nothing we face will come as a surprise."
"You haven't mentioned much about your past except you fought with the Fighter's Guild. What did you do between your arrival in Skyrim and joining us?"
I remained silent, thinking of the best way to be honest without saying what I actually did. "The best way I can put it is that joining the Companions will help restore my honour as a warrior."
"You were a criminal?" Looking at him in surprise, he simply returned my glance with a smirk. "You're not the first, Ragnar, and you won't be the last. Half of the reason Kodlak doesn't ask many questions is that he sees the Companions precisely like you do. Restore your own sense of worth, give you purpose, and prove you have honour in battle, protect your colleagues and friends, and you will find glories in the Great Hall in the end."
"I don't regret what I did. I was bloody good at what I did. But I always knew I would end up with my head on a chopping block if I was caught. I can only thank the dragon for saving me from my fate. If I'd lost my head then and there, I wouldn't have ended up in Sovngarde."
"Where would you have ended up?"
Shrugging, I admitted I wasn't exactly sure. I didn't want to go into too much detail, and we fell silent until we were walking the rise towards the old ruin, a set of stair leading down to the door itself. Suggesting we didn't particularly need to go over what was required once inside, the only thing needed agreeing was, that as this was my trial, I would take the lead. I preferred being in front anyway. People sometimes got in the way.
The first chamber was empty of enemy. A couple of dead draugr, but tools that suggested others might be further in. "Looks like someone'd been digging here. And recently. Tread lightly. Be careful around the burial stones. I don't want to haul you back to Jorrvaskr on my back."
"Give me a little credit, Farkas."
"I give the same advice to any whelp, Ragnar. No offence meant."
We descended deeper into the ruin, the usual signs that this was an ancient Nordic ruin, rather well built, as most were, though slowly crumbling as the centuries passed. Torches had been lit, lighting our way, the air still and rather humid, with the usual smell of decay. It didn't bother either myself or Farkas as we ended up walking down stairs into a larger chamber. Still no sign of draugr or anyone else, but our progress was halted by a gate.
I found a lever in another room and pulled it without a second thought. I should have known better, as a gate locked me in where I was. Farkas laughed at my predicament, assuring me it was fine.
It wasn't, as at least a half dozen mercenaries appeared from the now open gate. I had no idea who they were. Farkas didn't seem all that concerned, not even bothering to unsheathe his enormous great-sword. The mercenaries issued a bunch of threats towards Farkas, one or two then looking past him at me, and threatening to kill me next. I flipped the bird as the mercenaries walked towards Farkas.
What happened next... Well, at the time, I was gobsmacked, as it revealed quite the secret about the Companions. You see, Farkas turned into a werewolf, and his armour was obviously designed for it, as it simply dropped to the ground. And the blood flowed, body parts flung around the chamber, as the werewolf tore the mercenaries to shreds. It was horrifying, but I didn't turn away. I had no idea who the mercenaries were, but a large part of me thought they got what they deserved.
The werewolf, or Farkas, though I wasn't sure how much of him remained, then looked at me, before disappearing. The gate opened a couple of minutes later and Farkas reappeared, as naked as the day he was born. He said little as he assembled himself in armour, studiously ignoring my look of surprise. Or that's what I was sure I looked like.
"Sooo... Are you going to explain that or not?"
"Some consider it a blessing, to be like wild beasts."
"Are all Companions werewolves?" Because if they were, it would be one hell of a secret, as I don't think anyone in Whiterun had a clue otherwise.
"Oh, no. Only the Circle have the beast-blood. Prove your honour to be a Companion. 'Eyes on the prey, not the horizon.' We should keep moving. Still the draugr to worry about."
Gesturing at the dismembered bodies, I asked, "And who were these clowns?"
"We know them as the Silver Hand. Bad people who don't like werewolves. So they don't like us either."
Farkas explained things simply. As he liked to repeat, he got Ysgramor's strength while his twin, Vilkas, got his brains. Plenty of those joked about Farkas and his simplicity, though most were not brave enough to do it to his face. There was no doubting his bravery as a warrior, though.
Knowing that Silver Hand were present, we now had to fight them and any draugr that decided to wake up. What I found interesting with each group of Silver Hand we killed was what they carried. Most carried weapons made of silver, and also carried potion bottles, a quick sniff suggesting it would cure disease. Farkas shrugged when I suggested that, mentioning that the Silver Hand likely believed that was what infected the Companions. I didn't know enough to suggest anything otherwise.
In addition to Silver Hand and draugr, the ruin was infested with skeevers and spiders. Skeevers I could handle; they were just giant rats. But I hated spiders. Most people hated them. Eight legged freaks. Farkas decided running into their nest was the smartest move. I stayed back and summoned magic for once, using flames to burn the fuckers. Farkas noticeably shuddered at the same time, glancing in my direction and using the same language to describe them.
Passing through what I called 'hallways of the dead', as there were numerous draugr that we no doubt both hoped didn't wake up as we walked by, more Silver Hand laid in wait, while the occasional draugr did wake up. Even when swarming us, Farkas and I worked well together, using my shield to keep us both protected, and his great-sword help cut the enemy down. It helped the Silver Hand were only dressed in leathers, making them quite easy targets, while draugr attacked without any thought of self-preservation. Almost stupidly aggressive and easy to lead into traps.
I'd been in enough of these ruins to know we'd eventually end up in a final large chamber, and that's precisely what happened again. I gestured for Farkas to stop and looked to either side. "See all the sarcophagi? Bet you we'll do something to wake them all up."
"Best we're cautious then."
There was also a word wall ahead, and I'd seen enough by now that I didn't make a big deal of the chanting or the highlighted word I couldn't read. I approached it to learn the word. "Just so you know, Farkas, this word right here says Yol."
