Farengar herded the group to his cluttered study, where alchemy ingredients bubbled ominously and a mammoth skull served as a "desk."
"The Dragonstone is key," he said, unrolling a moth-eaten map. "Bleak Falls Barrow is infested with bandits, but the real danger lies deeper. The draugr… they guard secrets mortals weren't meant to—"
"Draugr?" Lysia tugged Gilgamesh's sleeve. "Are they like big wolves?"
"Bigger. Decomposing. Less cuddly."
Edla leaned against a bookshelf, arms crossed. "Why not send your guards?"
Farengar blinked. "Because guards are… *expendable*? No, wait—*valuable*. Yes. Very valuable. You, meanwhile, are… enthusiastic amateurs!"
Gilgamesh pocketed a soul gem from Farengar's desk. "We'll leave at dawn. But first—" He gestured to Lysia. "—got any magic candy? For the kid."
"Magic *what*?!"
**Descending Dragonsreach**
The wind howled through Whiterun's stone arches as Gilgamesh stepped out of Dragonsreach, Lysia's hand clutched in his. Below, the city sprawled like a drunken honeycomb—mead halls, market stalls, and the distant clang of the Skyforge.
*Can't take her to Bleak Falls Barrow. Draugr, bandits, spiders the size of carriages…* His System flickered: **[Quest: Bleak Falls Barrow – Survival Rate for Companions Under 12: 3.7%]**.
Edla nudged him. "Your face is doing that… *thing* again."
"It's called *thinking*. You should try it sometime."
As they passed They passed Jorrvaskr Companions' mead hall, Aela waved from the porch. "Changed your mind about joining us, jester?"
"Nah. I've got a dragon to babysit."
Inside Jorrvasker Raucous laughter spilled out as Aela arm-wrestled a man twice her size. Lysia perked up. "Are they heroes?"
"Heroes who smell like wet dog and poor life choices," Gilgamesh muttered. "C'mon, kid. Let's find you a *civilized* babysitter."
**The Temple of Kynareth**The temple's incense-cloaked air was a balm after Whiterun's chaos. Priestess Danica Pure-Spring knelt by a shrine, her green robes pooling around her like moss.
"Blessings of Kynareth, travelers. How can I—?"
"Need a kid stored," Gilgamesh said, nudging Lysia forward. "Temporarily. Nonflammable."
Danica blinked. "This is a temple, not a stable."
"She's housebroken. Mostly. I'll pay." He dumped a pouch of septims on the altar.
Edla facepalmed. "You're bribing a priestess."
"*Donating generously.*"
Lysia tugged Danica's sleeve. "I can sing! And… and I don't eat much!"
The priestess softened. "How long?"
"A week. Tops," Gilgamesh said. "If we die, keep the change."
Danica sighed. "She may stay. But if you perish, I'm keeping your gold *and* praying for your reckless soul."
At the market, Gilgamesh bought Lysia a honey-nut treat and a dagger "for emergencies."
"You'll come back, right?" Her ash-flecked eyes wobbled.
"Wouldn't miss it. Who else will mock Edla's haircut?"
The Dragonborn flicked a septim at his head. "Focus. We need supplies."
They stocked up on potions (Gilgamesh haggled), lockpicks (Edla stole), and a ludicrously oversized backpack ("for *loot*," he insisted).
As they reached the city gates, Lysia waved
Danica's hand on her shoulder.
"She'll be fine," Edla said, surprising herself.
"She better be. That cost me 200 septims."
"You're softer than a skeever's belly."
"And you're avoiding the fact that you let her braid your hair."
Edla's silver eyes narrowed. "I'll leave you for the draugr."
The plains outside Whiterun shimmered with false peace. Gilgamesh's System pinged: **[Bleak Falls Barrow – 6.2 Miles. Recommended Level: 15. Current Level: 12. Pray.]**
The banter died as Bleak Falls Barrow loomed—a jagged scar on the mountain, its entrance choked with ice and shadows.
**[Dungeon Alert: Bleak Falls Barrow. Dangers: Bandits, Draugr, Ancient Traps, Regret.]**
Gilgamesh cracked his knuckles. "Let's go be heroes."
"*Idiots*," Edla corrected, but her dagger gleamed in anticipation.
**Outside the Barrow:The path to Bleak Falls Barrow coiled like a frozen serpent, its entrance half-buried under snowdrifts and jagged ice. Gilgamesh crouched behind a weather-worn boulder, his breath misting in the biting air. Ahead, three bandits huddled around a sputtering fire.
**[Bandit Camp Detected: 3 Hostiles. Recommended Approach: Stealth/Traps.]**
The first, a hulking Nord in bear pelts, gnawed on a charred rabbit leg. The second, a wiry archer with a scarred face, sharpened arrows. The third, a lookout, paced the perimeter, her eyes sharp but weary.
Edla crouched beside him, silver eyes narrowed. "I'll take the archer. You handle the brute."
"Generous of you," Gilgamesh muttered. He palmed a throwing dagger and a vial of frostbite venom looted from Helgen. "But let's play smarter."
He crept along the cliffside, boots crunching softly. The System highlighted loose rocks above the camp. **[Environmental Hazard: Unstable Outcropping.]** Grinning, he lobbed the venom vial at the rocks. It shattered, freezing the stone. A swift kick sent the shelf cracking
and a cascade of boulders roared down, crushing the fire and scattering the bandits. The archer yelped, diving sideways as Edla lunged, dagger flashing.
The brute charged Gilgamesh, swinging a warhammer. "You'll pay for that, whelp!"
Gilgamesh backflipped, dodging a hammer blow that cratered the snow. He flung his dagger—not at the bandit, but at the archer's quiver. Frost venom seeped into the arrows, and when the archer nocked one, the shaft splintered in her frozen fingers.
"Cheater!" she spat.
Innovator!" He ducked the marauder's swing, rolled, and slashed the bandit's thigh. Blood sprayed. **[One-Handed Skill: 9 → 10.]**
Edla finished the archer with a throat-slash, then hurled her dagger into the marauder's shoulder. "Stop playing and *kill him*!"
Gilgamesh smirked, driving his sword into the bandit's gut. "Happy?"
The lookout, forgotten in the chaos, lunged at Edla—but stepped on Gilgamesh's rigged bear trap. Her scream echoed off the peaks.
**[Bandits Defeated. Loot: Gold x50, Iron Warhammer, Frost Arrows x5.]**
Edla wiped her blade. "Your methods are… chaotic."
"Your face is chaotic. Let's move."
**Inside Bleak Falls Barrow:The barrow's entrance yawned, exhaling air thick with rot and ancient dust. Faded Nordic carvings coiled across the walls, their once-vibrant runes now ghostly whispers. Gilgamesh ignited a torch, casting flickering light on crumbling pillars and skeletal remains.
**[Dungeon Atmosphere: Oppressive Gloom. Sanity Drain: 2% per hour.]**
"Stay close," Edla murmured, her voice swallowed by the dark. "And don't touch *anything*."
They inched forward, the floor slick with moss. A pressure plate groaned under Gilgamesh's boot. He froze. "Trap. Step where I step."
Edla glared. "You're heavier. *You* step where *I* step."
Ahead, a tripwire glinted. Gilgamesh severed it with a dagger toss, triggering a scything blade that embedded in the wall. "See? Teamwork."
Deeper in, the barrow's silence shattered. Bandits—stragglers from the outer camp—looted a burial chamber. Two argued over a tarnished chalice, while a third prodded a rusted lever.
"—swear it's a secret door!"
"It's a *trap*, idiot!"
He lobbed a soul gem (stolen from Farengar) into the room. It clattered, and the bandits turned. "Ooh, shiny!"
As they crowded around, Gilgamesh yanked the lever. The floor collapsed, plunging two into a spike pit. **[Trap Activated: 2 Bandits eliminated.]**
The survivor lunged, but Edla silenced him with a dagger through the ribs. "Brutal," Gilgamesh said.
"Efficient."