‘’I suppose you’re right about the route,’’ Balen replied to Sibassius, considering the barrow’s remote location. He guessed that whoever built this tomb did not want their dead disturbed by any means. Which was understandable – he himself did not want his corpse to be used as some experiment or undead sex slave. ‘’And yes, the dead usually keep to themselves.’’ He remembered trying to place his father’s ashes and skull in a proper place, while getting berated by his ancestors all the while. [i]‘’That’s not a pedestal, you s’wit, that’s my damned third son!’’[/i] His great-great-grandfather was a very loud and rude man, despite being dead for the last few hundred years, and having lived as a priest of the High Fane. At least he had the courtesy to keep the Tomb Guardians off Balen’s hide. Nonetheless, it was not a very pleasant experience, and Balen did not think that today, going into a tomb of Nords who hated the guts of his race in life, and probably still do so in the afterlife, would be easy. 

‘’Quiet at night, too,’’ a voice spoke, and Balen instinctively looked up at the spot where the voice originated. Managing to keep his startled mind in check, he saw the Bosmer, Ungimros, on the branches. ‘’I shouldn’t be surprised that the Bosmer came here first,’’ Balen thought to himself. The damn creatures were swift, like their distant relatives, the Khajiit. Before he could greet him, however, a light appeared, and following it, a voice echoed through the woods, and the Bosmer answered the question, somewhat vaguely. A few moments later, Merci appeared, walking out of the fog. ‘’Hello Merci, Ungimros,’’ Balen said, for the sake of courtesy. ‘’How was the walk?’’ Before he could get an answer, however, the other Breton, Elayne, walked out of the woods into the clearing, and before saying anything, started examining the dusty inscriptions around the gate. Balen gazed a questioning stare at her, before turning to Sibassius with the same look, not wishing to break the silence.

The Breton herself seemed to have enough of the quiet, though, and decided to break it with a somewhat dull greeting. She seemed to be more interested in the tomb compared to her companions, a behavior that could lead to bad assumptions about her. People of knowledge were always seen as somewhat of a burden in expeditions such as this, and Balen knew well that giving off the impression of an absent-minded, aloof and uncaring scholar was not good. Elayne finished the examination after a few moments, and fortunately for herself started to talk. "Have any of you any experience with tombs of this type? I visited one much farther to the North once upon a time. Worked there for a little under a month, with some others from the College. My superiors had already cleared the ruin of Draugr and such, of course, so I'm afraid that whatever it is we face in there I'll have only read about. It is best to use fire, yes?" Balen turned his face back at Elayne. ‘’Well, Nords can shrug the coldest temperature, so I assume that ice magic is out of the equation. And Bernadette Bantien’s account does claim that fire is a good repellent. What I’m afraid of, however, is the possibility of a Dragon Priest residing in there. Most of the Draugr roam still to keep worshipping beyond death,’’ Balen said, and continued, ‘’And we’ve all heard stories of the powers of their tongue.’’