With the climbing gear up and ready, Solveig kept her feet on the ground for as long as could. The rescue party shuffled past her to grab hold of the rope, even Do'Karth and young Sagax went before her. A Breton with a nasty scar on a nasty face bumped her shoulder as he passed, “Scared to climb shieldmaiden?”

“Careful, Easy for me to reach up and tear off your bits with you above me.” She said as he passed. He only laughed while he climbed the first few feet. Solveig grabbed hold of the rope and swallowed. The prospect of falling, the feel of the rope and the memories. She growled and spat to the side, clutching the rope in a grip that could crack stone. Hand over hand, foot by foot, she climbed. Her heart beat fast, her breath came in wisps and sniffles. It seemed an eternity, each moment the one she was expecting to lose her grip and fall to her death.

She didn't. She clambered over the cliff's edge, brushing the front of herself off and taking a deep breath. She tried to hide her trembling hands but her shaking knees, there could be no hiding. By the time she got up, everyone was gathered around Roze, watching her work a lock. When the door was opened, glowing orbs spilled out, one darting past the rest of the rescue party and butting into the chest of the scarred-faced man hard enough to send him reeling backwards. He stepped off the cliff's edge and plummeted breathlessly to his death, the only thing that assured Solveig that he'd died was the sickening crunch of his body, muffled by the blizzard but heard all the same.

Farid and the rest began hacking and slashing the orbs and she wasted no time in drawing her longseax. She smashed the blade through one orb and it felt like she'd tried to cut through honey, yet the thing shattered like glass on the ground. She cocked one eyebrow but by the time she'd readied herself again, the fighting was done. They proceeded further and they came upon a lone man standing like he was enjoying the sun on a Whiterun street rather than the survivor of a terrible disaster. He said his cheeky words and flashed a coy smile at the group. She remembered Mire's words, that she should knife Durrum ap Yawl's son right where he stood. The way his cheeky words threw aside so many dead and those that mourned them made her hope to her core that this was Durrum's son.