It was interesting that the Dunmer scholar, who Hector had considered the person least suited for the whole venture, was second to arrive. [i]At least he knows his pathfinding,[/i] Hector mused. Balen's scarlet eyes seemed uncomfortably large and prying in the gloom of the forest grove, but Hector convinced himself to let go of his sword entirely and crossed his arms across his chest. 

"Seems to me the only route to this place is the scenic route," Hector grumbled. The forest grove wasn't near any of the hold's roads, as far as Hector could tell. In response to Balen's question, he looked over his shoulder at the wooden doors and shook his head. "Not much. I haven't touched the gates yet, but all seems quiet so far. No sounds of weeping ghosts or armies of Draugr preparing for war. Then again, the dead have a habit of being quiet until they're disturbed, eh?" he added with a wry smile. 

Knowing full well that the interred of Nordic tombs had a habit of getting up and walking around, Hector had prepared by bringing with him a few Fire poisons, crafted from a mixture of fire salts and flame stalks. Once applied to his blade, the poison would ignite any wounds inflicted; perfect against the undead.