You whisper the words as quietly as you can. As soon as they leave your lips, you realize you've misspoken them. They're close, but you think perhaps the last of them may have been somehow different than what you muttered at the frost troll outside of Riverwood.

Soon, you feel a familiar force. The air around you is drawing toward and past you through the door ... but only the air. You realize that you've managed to do little more than suck the very oxygen from the hut. You clasp your throat; so do the Cleanshaven. It isn't long before you and the rest of them suffocate to death.


Mike Kayatta is a contributing news writer for The Escapist and the author of John Gone. Paul Goodman is a loyal editorial assistant at The Escapist. Together, they fight crime.

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