Hi there, Journal, Steve the Khajiit again, writing to you live from Whiterun prison! So last time I said I would explain how I wound up in this predicament. And I promise that by the end of this entry, I will have given you more information on that regard. Probably.
When I’d last left off, I’d been escorted to the edge of Riverwood by Camilla from Riverwood Traders, to retrieve a “golden claw” from the dirty no-good thieves who had stolen it, so that I could give it to this dirty no-good thief instead. At least, that was my plan.
But first I had to meet up with them up in Bleak Falls Barrow. I briefly considered reasoning with them, thief to thief, but then I remembered that there is often little honor among thieves, and even less so across species (I thought it unlikely that they’d be Khajiit. We were somewhat rare this far north.) Plus I’d seen how well reasoning had gone with Hadvar and the Stormcloaks, so instead I was going to opt for sneaking.
Only problem was, my sneaking skills were not so good within the context of the bright and snowy landscape that was Skyrim. I was used to dealing with boulders and sand dunes and mirages and canyons and the like. This was literally new territory for me. So it was like I was learning how to be stealthy all over again.
As I made my way up the hill (I once would have called it a mountain, but a glance at the horizon let me know that around here this would just be a hill), I noticed it was already starting to get a bit chilly. What I wouldn’t have given for a cloak or something. Ah well.
I rounded the bend, and noticed a stone tower, which was not my destination, but someplace I would have to deal with nonetheless, as there were people milling about. I didn’t know who they were, and for all I know they could have been friendly, so I did my best to avoid them. Unfortunately, as I said, my stealth was not yet up to snuff, especially against snowy stone in broad daylight, and I was spotted. And whoever they were, they reacted as though I had attacked them, and began running towards me, firing arrows. So I defended myself in return, and soon they were all dead. I felt a little bad about it, in hindsight. I had no beef with them, or any other meats. But neither could I let them turn me into a pincushion.
I made the most of the situation by looting their dead bodies and then throwing their bodies down the hill, where hopefully someone would find them and give them a proper burial. But if not, they only had themselves to blame. I was starting to wonder if going after this golden claw would be worth it. Anyway, I cleared the tower of valuables, and then moved on to the barrow.
As soon as I got within view, I could see this wasn’t going to be simple. The thieves – I assumed they were the thieves, anyway – were patrolling a high stony bridge the jutted out from the place. Based on my experience with the nearby tower, my gut told me that these thieves were not going to give up the claw without a fight. So, reluctantly, I started the fight this time rather than waiting for it to come to me. I took a shot at the nearest one, and missed. They immediately spotted me and came running full-tilt at me. My archery skills were improving already, and while one of them got a good slash at me with his sword, they were soon riddled with my arrows.
I wasn’t sure what the penalty was for killing thieves, or if it was even considered murder in these parts, but I was beginning to feel like perhaps the Imperials would have been justified in executing me. Within the past 24 hours or so, I had killed, what… six, seven people? Granted, this was nothing compared to what I’d witnessed by Hadvar the Stormcloak-Slayer, but that was war, which is different. This was business, which is also different, but I’d prefer to do business with less killing. As I thought about this, I rifled through their belongings. None of them had the claw!
I looked around the area, hoping perhaps one of them had dropped it during the scuffle. Though I didn’t know what it would look like, I figured I’d know it when I saw it. I didn’t see it. With a sigh, I looked over at the looming building that everyone spoke nervously about, and its giant doors in the front. Maybe one of the thieves had gone in there with it, or maybe they were using the place for storage. On the bright side, or shady side rather, at least it would be dark in there, allowing me to be a bit more stealthy.
(As a sidenote, I can already tell that I will probably not be getting to the bit where I’m arrested until next journal entry. Unless I make this one really, really long. And I do not think I want to do that.)
I slowly opened the doors to the barrow, which then slammed loudly behind me, though amazingly nobody seemed to hear this and coming running. Crouching down, I looked past a boulder to a campfire where some more members of my profession were sitting around. I don’t know if they were waiting for something or someone, but regardless, it seemed likely they had the claw. I really did not want to add to my body count, but I had come this far, and killed so many, so what were a couple more? Yes, I was already starting to rationalize my killing spree.
I drew back my bow and let loose an arrow that I was sure would hit its mark, only to have it rattle against some sort of invisible barrier between the two rocky spires. It made no sense, as there was plenty of room for the arrow to fly through, yet it acted as though I’d aimed for the stone. And though nobody had heard the giant doors slam, they somehow heard this small ricochet. Of course.
I took a few more shots at them as they ran up, and one of them shouted, “Found you!” Meanwhile I killed the bandit next to her. Then the two of us took turns firing arrows at each other, until finally she was dead, while I was badly injured. Fortunately I have a knack for recovering from wounds rather quickly. (It’s true! Sometimes all it took was a brief nap and I’d feel good as new. I used to think that must apply to everyone, but I’ve seen numerous people over the years who would lay injured for hours without recovering. No one has ever been able to explain that to me, but anyway.)
Having increased by body count to nine, I checked their bodies for the claw, but only found some nice armor and some more arrows, a few of which were mine stuck in them but still in good enough shape to reuse. (I believed in renewable forms of ammo.) There was also an abundance of dead skeevers in the cave, making me wonder if they’d had some sort of training or initiation here. Or just a really bad pest problem.
I went over to their campsite and looted their chest. No claw. I was starting to think maybe the raspy man’s information was flawed. I would hate to have gone on this mild rampage for nothing.
There was a tunnel nearby, and though it looked old and filthy and dark and scary and cobwebby, I went inside, because why not at this point. It helped that I didn’t wish to remain in this room, which I forgot to mention had a bloody altar in it. I didn’t even want to know the story behind that.
The tunnel had lit torches every once in a while, so the thieves must have come through here. And they were still lit, so it must have been recently. As I wound my way through the tunnel, I started to get nagging doubts about my mission again. Would this claw, gold or not, be worth this much trouble? Even if it were worth, say, 1000 gold (which seemed unlikely), I could probably get that much just from selling all of the armor, weapons and other trinkets I’ve accumulated in my collection of stuff (which I will call my “inventory” for lack of a better word). What had sounded like an easy score was now becoming a wild goat chase. (Someone told me the phrase is “wild goose chase,” but I have never chased a goose, so I stick with what I know. Goats are hard to chase too.)
I was so lost in thought that I almost didn’t notice the man framed in the doorway ahead of me. Fortunately he was facing the other way, so he didn’t notice me either. He walked up to some sort of lever sticking out of the ground, and pulled it. Suddenly a hail of arrows shot at him from every direction, killing him instantly. I’d heard the phrase “killing machine” before, but this was the first I’d seen of one.
Per my usual routine, I checked his body for the claw, but of course it wasn’t there. I looked around the room, and saw all sorts of weird animal symbols. Some were on pillars, others were on the walls. In front of me was a closed gate which had no visible way of opening. I looked at the dead man again, and realized this was some sort of test. Get it right, and the door opens. Get it wrong, and it kills you. Seemed overly strict, but this didn’t seem like the kind of place that cared what you thought of it.
I will skip the description of the boring puzzle, because you know by my continued writing that I figured it out. Though I guess I could have also turned away and not tried it, but I am nothing if not curious and foolish. I continued on, until there was another room, covered from top to bottom with spiderwebs. I could hear someone saying, “Is that you Bjorn?” or something. He also said something about needing help, so I cleared away the cobwebs in front of me, just in time to see another one of those creepy giant spiders drop down from the ceiling!
This freaked the voice out. “No! Not again! Help!” I supposed I could balance out my murders slightly by rescuing this person, so I got out my bow and arrow again and let loose a volley upon the giant arachnid. Once I’d killed it, the individual, who appeared to be a dark elf trapped in a spider web, said “You! Over here!”
I put away my bow and walked up to him, wondering if he had the claw on him. “You did it,” he said. “You killed it! Now hurry up and cut me down before anything else shows up.” A bit demanding, this one.
Getting tired, I decided to cut to the chase. “Where’s the golden claw?”
This got him babbling immediately. “Yes, the claw! I know how it works! The claw, the markings, the door in the hall of stories, I know how they all fit together!” I had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn’t answer my question. He continued, “Help me down and I’ll show you! You won’t believe the power the Nords have hidden there!”
So, this guy seemed a little unhinged, but to be fair, I probably would be too if I’d spent who knows how long wrapped up in a web while a giant spider waited to eat me.
I said to him, “First hand over the claw!”
To which he retorted angrily, “Does it look like I can move? You’ll have to cut me down first.” Fair enough. I gave a few swipes with my claws, as he said oh-so-helpful things like “It’s coming loose! I can feel it!” Good for you, sir. Finally I had cleared away the webbing.
Once free, he turned away saying, “You fool, why should I share the treasure with anyone?” Well, for starters, did you not see me just make short work of that giant spider that captured you? Not only do you owe me, but I could take you. I thought this, because he soon wasn’t there to say it to, as he had run down the hall ahead of me. I started to chase after him, but I stopped briefly because I was distracted by a big, shiny gem. I think it was one of those “Soul Gems” I’d heard about a few times. I’d never had use for them, but I’m sure they must have been worth something.
This gave the ungrateful Dunmer a significant lead ahead of me, but just as I was about to catch up with him, I heard a loud metallic slamming noise, and then his body flew into view, limp on the ground. I stealthily entered the room, which appeared to be a burial chamber, and walked up to his body. If he didn’t have the claw, I was going to be so angry.
Yes! He had it! He also had a journal, which I also took, because why not. I was so distracted by this that I almost didn’t hear the stomping around to my right. I looked, and there stalked a decaying old skeletal-looking thing with a sword, which this idiot must have somehow alerted when he ran full speed into here. I had no idea if I could take him, so I turned back the way I came, having found what I came for. In the back of my mind, I thought about the dead man’s rambling about the door and some Nord power, but it didn’t concern me enough to stick around. I figured I could peruse his journal later to see if he made more sense of it there.
So I made my way out the barrow, occasionally stopping to loot a container here and there. The place was ridiculously well lit, with torches, candles, and braziers. Must be some sort of Nord religious thing. When I got outside, I was treated to a beautiful night sky, complete with ridiculously large moon that must have been wreaking havoc on the ocean somewhere. It was also much colder, so I bundled up. Luckily I still had some of the pack of provisions I’d gathered from Alvor and Sigrid’s place. Which reminded me, I still had a promise to keep.
I took a deep breath, and said to myself, “It’s one and a sixth miles to Whiterun, I’ve got a golden claw, half a pack from Sigrid’s, it’s dark, and I’m wearing fur gauntlets.” It was time to hit it.
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