The chamber around the Blackbird exploded into daedra and magefire, but he scarcely noticed. Hraf was far more concerned with the draugr gnawing on his shield. For all of their fancy wizardry, it was Hraf (and the Imperial) keeping the bastards at bay. They could cry for space all they wanted, but unless one of them picked up a shield, they were going to make do with what space he was providing for them. Grunting, Hraf shoved the Nordic mummy off of his shield, and slashed it nearly in half with his sword. He wasn't sure why, but his earlier trepidation from venturing into the forsaken tomb had disappeared. The feeling like someone had shoved an icicle up his ass was practically gone, and all that was left was the red-eyed haze of battle.

Another draugr approached, and with this foe the Blackbird felt like taking a more proactive approach. As the draugr closed into striking distanced and heaved at Hraf with its unwieldy sword, he ducked under the blow and closed further in. Once within arm's reach of the dusty creature, he delivered a strong, metal-plated boot to its desiccated leg, striking it directly in the knee. It leg cracked loudly and bent backwards, sending the draugr quite quickly to the floor. Losing no time, Hraf bashed it across the face with his shield as soon as the two were level, thus forcing its neck at an odd angle. The blow which would have killed a mortal man apparently did not stop the draugr, which attempted to again rise up on its shattered leg, broken neck or no. Rather than let it stand, Hraf hacked at its exposed neck furiously, grunting loudly with each strike. Before long, the head of the monster was sent clattering across the floor, utterly dead.

An otherworldly voice sounded throughout the chamber, calling out in strange tongues unknown to Hraf. He hardly even noticed it above the ringing in his ears, but noticed well enough as the draugr retreated into the depths of the tomb. What in the hell? Hraf was confused, but he didn't have a clear enough mind to ponder that mystery. He panted with exertion, his earlier gust of energy now leaving him. The others debated the meaning of the message, and the Dark Elf apologized for springing the trap. Hraf, having mostly caught his breath by this point, sheathed his sword and walked over to clap the man on the back.

"Ah, don't think on it too hard. If we all had to divvy up the bounty according to whatever traps we did or didn't spring, by the end of this we'd have no idea who was getting what." Hraf took another deep breath to keep himself steady, and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Either way, we gave them a right bloody nose. If no one is injured, let's press on."