A story I began writing for my friend. I didn't mean to write this much, and I'm still writing some more. Nekroi is Greek for 'Dead Ones." You'll find out why later. Many of these characters or beings aren't mine. Rabdom belongs to me, and Dolniir to my friend. Enjoy!
Alright, so maybe Dwemer ruins weren't the best place to go treasure hunting. But there was so many shiny things to be found! Who wouldn't want to go exploring in an ancient part of an old Dwemer ruin? Well, maybe if you didn't like semi-sentient metal creatures attacking you for trespassing in their old master's domain. But he was a good sneak for sure! He could easily get past the spiders and the spheres without getting caught, right?
If all the spiders and spheres weren't already dead, of course.
He'd entered expecting to be bombarded by shocks and steam, however was greeted with pieces of the ancient Dwemer machines littered upon the floor. Had someone already came in before him and destroyed the sentries? He really didn't know anyone besides bandits who willingly came in here and disposed of those things, and even then they cleaned up fairly quickly. So maybe someone else was wandering around down here? There was really only one way to find out.
Bow and an arrow in hand, the Dunmer traversed quietly through the tattered and torn ruins. Few spiders had managed to escape whoever had destroyed their companions, and for the most part did not notice the sneaking elf. They weren't really all that smart, were they? He came upon several destroyed Dwarven Spheres – which were usually more aggressive than the spiders – however when he searched them, he was unable to find any of the oils or soul gems that were usually stored inside. So the person that was here was smart enough to loot everything, then? Not too bad.
The elf continued on his merry way, and at first wondered if he was really going to find anyone in here. Until he heard some kind of humming. Curious, the Dunmer shuffled his way down a hallway, and then through an opened doorway. Peeking in – though almost falling over since his bow didn't help keep him up very well – the Dunmer was quite surprised. A Nordic man, who was taller than he and dressed in Nordic – or was it Dwemer? – armor (he preferred leather himself), stood at a table in the middle of the room. Pieces of Dwemer artifacts were scattered about the table and the room, and a couple of lanterns kept the room alight.
Being that he hadn't had contact with any human life in a while; the Dunmer smiled, and, seething his bow and arrow, proceeded to approach the Nord silently. Maybe he would like to be friends? Oh, maybe the Nord liked killing people like he did! Or maybe –
Clang!
The room was a mess, wasn't it? A piece of a Dawrven sphere at his feet slid across the room –more like flew, though he was sure that it was just his imagination talking -, hitting the Nord in the leg. Before it even hit him, of course, the Nord turned – with speed the elf was sure he wasn't supposed to have – with a dagger in his hand. The Dunmer squeaked and fell, landing awkwardly on his large ebony bow. Arrows scattered onto the floor behind him, and he struggled to stand back up.
"What do you want?" the Nord asked in that quite familiar Nordic accent.
Once the elf managed to get into a squatting position, he ignored his fallen arrows and instead smiling widely at the man. The other man's expression changed for only a second, however again thrust his dagger back at the elf again when he regained his composure. The elf didn't really seem to notice the dagger that was being aimed at his throat.
"I'm exploring!" said the Mer in his merry, high pitched tone. "I like looking around in the Dwarven ruins! They're so much fun! And you get to find many nice things!" The smile on the elf's face fell, and with his arms draped over his legs, he cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. "Why? Do you need something?" Leaning his boney and almost frail body at an angle, he looked past the Nord and stared at the table behind him. "Ooo! What're doing? Can I help? I like helping! I'm very good at it, too! My friends say I shouldn't touch explosives, though. Don't know why."
The Nord's expression finally fell and stayed there. He honestly seemed confused, and the elf was about to ask him what was the matter when he returned his dagger to its sheath. The Nord dropped his head for a second, and then looked back up to the elf. Sighing, he nodded.
"If you are truly interested in what I'm doing here," said the Nord, "I'm looking for the reason the Dwemer disappeared long ago." The Nord went to return to the table, but stopped midway. Turning back, he said, "I'm Dolniir Denuros, a scholar from Winterhold. Who are -?"
In less than a few seconds the elf had launched himself to his feet and thrust a hand out to Dolniir. "My name's Rabdom – Rabdom Zedac! But my friends, they call me Rab!"
The Nord seemed to grimace at such an introduction, but met the Dunmer's hand with his own anyway. Was it strange that the Dunmer was smiling so much? It probably was, though he didn't seem to care much.
"As I was saying," Dolniir said a bit slower this time, turning back to the table, "I'm looking for the reason the Dwemer disappeared long ago."
"Didn't they all just go underground and not come back up?" Rabdom asked as he scuttled behind the Nord. Happily did he lean over the Nord's shoulder, making Dolniir a bit uneasy. The Nord didn't try to complain, though.
"So the rumor has it," Dolniir said with a curt nod. Rummaging through the various objects that scattered the table – among them being a Dwarven sphere that had been carefully taken apart and laid on the table, and an inactive Dwarven spider which lay motionless – he picked up one of the various soul gems that lay about. "I'm hoping that by finding a special gem of sorts, I could possibly bring forth – or at least call forth – a Dwemer of the old and gain knowledge from them." Rabdom gave a squeak, making Dolniir jump.
"So you're gonna bring a Dwarf back to life?" asked Rabdom. "And with just a gem, too? That seems awfully hard, don't you think?" Dolniir simply grunted.
"Not if we find the find all of the correct pieces," he said. "But, as of now, that is the troubling part. It seems that I can't get through all of this without being bombarded by ghosts and gadgets, much less find clues as to where this item may be."
"Ooo, I like finding stuff!" Rabdom exclaimed enthusiastically. "Can I help find the thing? Can I? Huh, can I? Please?"
Still clutching the soul gem, the Nord raised an eyebrow to the Dunmer and sighed. It was probably bad to trust an elf with such a energy level, but if managed to sneak in the ruins like he had with him earlier…..
"Fine," Doniir nodded, "but please make sure that you don't break anything, alright? Everything in here is hundreds, if not thousands, of years old." Still smiling widely, Rabdom gave the Nord a mock salute.
"Sure thing!" said Rabdom. "I'll find what you need in a jiff, no worries!"
Dolniir scoffed at that, seeing as how the elf already seemed….. Challenged as it was. He simply waved it off, though, and went back to studying what he had found while Rab scuttled away to wherever he was planning to go. In all honesty, Dolniir expected to find him dead by morning.
The silence was beginning to get a bit foreboding. Rabdom rarely ever liked silence; he liked to talk and make friends and learn things. Not that he didn't like sneaking around and killing things like he did, but sometimes that got a little, well, boring after a while. Many were quite confused whenever he mentioned his background to them – and those people were only a select few, of course – and then his problems with not liking his job all the time. Who wouldn't like the ability to kill off people you don't like or deserved to die? Not Rabdom, that was sure.
A gust of steam spouted in front of him, and the elf stopped just short of the heat brushing past his elongated nose. Once it dissipated, the elf moved stealthily forward, bow in hand. The arrows in his quiver jingled lightly. He should have picked up the rest that had fallen before he'd left Dolniir to his research. Ah well, there'd be more time to grab them later. He just hoped that he didn't lose any more while moving around down here; else he'd be in trouble.
Scuttling up ahead made Rabdom slow his pace. Grabbing an arrow from his quiver, he readied it and cautiously advanced to the next hallway. Among the drains and pipes that littered the hall and ceiling, Dwarven Spiders ran to and fro, unaware of them being watched. Drawing the arrow, he aimed and –
Ping! One of the spiders atop the higher pipes shuttered and fell to the floor below. If the arrow hadn't killed it, then surely the fall that broke its top surely did. The remaining spiders – which quickly multiplied into four after their comrade fell – scuttled around, though whether they were trying to find a place to hide or trying to find out who did it, Rabdom couldn't tell.
Picking out another arrow, Rabdom again aimed and fired. Another spider shuttered and fell, twitching as it tried to keep itself alive before it finally died out. The final kill must have given him away, for one of the remaining spiders turned towards him and, with some type of screech, scuttled towards him. Its companions turned and followed.
Standing – there was no use in hiding now – Rabdom drew yet another arrow – was it just him, or was his quiver getting even lighter now? - he drew his bow back readily. One of the spiders leapt towards him; an arrow to its underside shattered it. These spiders sure weren't strong, were they? They were sure fast, though! Maybe that was why no one liked them? But the spheres were just as bad! He was lucky he hadn't run into any of them yet.
Drawing another arrow swiftly, he took out the next spider before it could get too close; the top shattering and shorting it to a twitching pile of scrap metal. Rabdom readily reached for another arrow and – Wait, why wasn't he grabbing any arrows? Was he out already? He mentally cursed himself and scattered back as the final spider shot electricity towards him again. It barely missed his right shoulder, though he could still feel the tingling as it jolted past him. Sheathing his bow, he grabbed for his dagger and made a dash for it – barely missing another shot of electricity in the process. Rab was never the one for brute force – he liked his bow and arrows very much – but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Dodging for the wriggling spider, he lurched forward and stepped on one of its spindly legs before it come advance any further. It squealed as the metal broke, attempting to break free, but Rabdom gave it little leverage. In an instant he tore through the metal casing that housed its energy source with his dagger, stabbing it in the metaphorical heart and killing it. Rabdom never really liked these Dwarven spiders, anyway.
Putting his dagger back on his waist, Rabdom went scavenging around the spiders. He managed to find all of his arrows, as well as some soul gems and Dwarven oils he was sure Dolniir would like. Once he was sure that he couldn't find anymore, Rabdom advanced onward. Hopefully, he wouldn't run into any more trouble along the way. But, considering his luck, he wouldn't have the luxury of such things for too long. And his luck, he knew, was sure to end quickly.
Traversing through the narrow halls, it was relatively quiet. Rabdom liked the quiet, but it also tormented him so. Quietness usually meant that something bad was going to happen and soon, and the quietness also left him to his own thoughts, of which were scrambled and tormented him to no end. Besides, the voices inside his head didn't really like him all that well.
His quiet journey came to an end when he came upon a large set of doors. Curious, he got up from his crouched sneaking position and inspected them. They were defiantly crafted by the Dwarves, and had intricate designs on them. Dolniir would surely like to know about this! That wasn't what struck the elf's curiosity, though. Stepping forward cautiously – he saw now pressure plates, but it was better safe than sorry – he reached for the door and pulled. It took a bit of struggling on his behalf, however sometime later; he finally managed to open it up just enough for him to slip through. He was lucky that that door didn't shut behind him; else he might not have ever gotten out.
Rabdom didn't get but a foot into the room when he stopped. His eyes widened and a sound of surprise escaped him. This must have been a storage room of some kind! Items of various shapes and sizes lay here and there. The inventory consisted of mostly metal that could be used for smiting, but the gears and screws and everything else looked so shiny! Without a second thought, Rabdom began his trek around the room, looking at all the random objects and even shoving a few into his satchel if they looked valuable or nice enough. Too bad he didn't having something that could carry more, or he would have surely taken more! He'd been lucky enough to find Dwarven arrows as well; swiftly putting them into his quiver alongside his ebony ones.
He had barely made a round through the room when he realized that there was more in there than just the items that lay scattered about on the ledges and tables along the walls. In the center of the room lay a table with various types of soul gems – including black soul gems, the elf noted – and even some rarer types of metal. Well, they were much shinier then the types of Dwarven metals he'd seen before, so that must have meant that they were rarer, right?
Carefully eyeing the treasure on the table, Rabdom slowly circled the table, grabbing a few pieces of this shiny metal as he – Wait, why was his weight shifting? Looking down, something caught in his throat. He'd stepped on a pressure plate. Behind him – it must have been the end of the room, for he was now facing towards the door where he stood – something began moving. Stepping away from the table and holding a piece of treasure close to his abdomen, the elf slowly turned to whatever beast he surely had to face.
The arc was much like the structure that kept a Dwarven Centurion. It was a little smaller, maybe, but it still looked familiar. The creature it held ripped its final arm free of its hold and rolled out, steam emitting from various joints in its body. It sure looked like a Centurion – at least the top half did. Maybe if it decided to wear a Dwarven helmet of some sort? Where its legs should have been, was instead a sphere, much larger than the Dwarven Spheres that usually claimed them. How strange. He hadn't seen anything like this before!
Rabdom lingered too long; the creature gave something similar to a roar, and with a slash to the air with the blade on its right arm, it charged forward. Rabdom barely had time to move. Almost breaking something, the Dunmer rolled quickly out of the way. The Dwarven mechanism crashed loudly into the table, and as Rabdom noted after almost ramming into the wall, completely shattered it; pieces of it falling onto the floor as the guardian rolled back. The items on the table had been thrown across the room, or else gotten stuck in this creature.
What was it, anyway? It looked like a Dwarven Sphere and Centurion when and made a baby, and someone just slapped a Dwarven helmet on it. Was it a Sphere or a Centurion?... Or maybe a Centurion Sphere? Yeah, that sounded much better! He'd have to write that down so he wouldn't forget it.
Luckily, Rabdom was paying a bit more attention this time. As the metal beast raised its left arm – which technically was an axe – and stormed forward, Rabdom turned and fled, almost flying into the wall before scattering past the Sphere. Behind him, the beast crashed into the wall, though all things considered, it probably didn't faze it much. Drawing his bow and an arrow, Rabdom turned and shot. The arrow landed at the Sphere's midsection right as it turned, though snapped in half when it moved forward. Obviously, this wasn't going to give up so easily. It was also faster than it should have been. If anything, it was only a head smaller than the usual Centurion, though moved just as quickly as a sphere. To be honest, it rather frightened Rab to know that this thing could keep up with him.
Turning, Rabdom was sure for a moment that he had wings as he jumped onto the ledges of the wall and scaled upwards towards the ceiling. Just as he got high enough, the Sphere crashed into the wall with one of its weapons. Turning and pulling out another arrow, he shot at the mechanism's head. It stumbled and shuttered as he tried to raise a weapon, but again, it didn't seem to phase it. Hoping not to die, Rabdom launched himself off of the wall as the beast tried to attack again. He landed on the large dome and with a simple kick off, did a flip and landed on the floor. This thing seemed rather slow at reacting. Maybe that was a good thing?
Scattering back and nearly jumping over the broken table, Rabdom shot at it a third time as he tried to back up. It must have damaged itself, for the hit made it stumble forward before regaining its composure. Maybe he should go get Dolniir? But then he'd lead the thing right to him, and he surely wouldn't like that. Groan, things weren't going his way today, were they?
Almost stumbling over the items scattered amongst the floor, Rabdom made a beeline for the door. It took him only a second to realize he wouldn't want to take this thing out of the room, much less anywhere else, before again scaling the wall. This time, he slid onto the arc around the door, causing the Sphere to ram right into the double doors. They audibly cracked, and Rabdom did his best not to fall as the wall shook. With some sort of angry groan, the Sphere raised its axe and smashed it against the wall. Rabdom yelped as it crashed into the arc between his feet. The wall began crumbling as the Sphere pulled down, splitting the wall and breaking the door as it went.
Rabdom was sure he was going to crash to his death, and so swiftly – had his heart always been in his ears? – he launched himself onto the Sphere's head, but this time more unsteadily then the last time. The sphere, in mild anger, raised its sword and attempted to swipe him off. Looking closer and closer to death, Rabdom was merely rolling off of instincts; jumping off of the helm as the sphere closed in. A large gash showed where Rabdom used to be. But, terrifyingly, the creature still moved. Sparks and steam shot out of the wound. He was going to die.
Turning, he was ready to shoot another arrow – Eek! Rabdom never really had good footing, and tripped and slipped over one or two of the various items on the floor. A few went flying – a cup in particular went rocketing towards the Sphere as Rabdom kicked it in order to regain his footing. The Sphere only had time to raise its axe when the cup lodged itself into the sphere's source of mobility. It must have hit something very valuable, for the Sphere shuttered and black smoke slowly seeped out of the seams. Something snapped and cracked, and the as quickly as its gargantuan body would allow – which was very quickly – the whole body fell haphazardly to the floor. Rabdom pulled himself back just enough, expecting to be crushed – when the head landed not a few inches from his feet with a resounding boom.
Rabdom waited. And he waited. And he waited. When he was sure that the thing was no longer moving, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He stood, almost shaking as he put away his bow, and slowly stepped forward to inspect the large creature. Considering that it almost killed him, he thought that it was only right for him to take a few things from it.
The beast lay on its side, steam and smoke still rising from its frame. It was still dead, though, or so it seemed. Trying to find a place where he could break it open and hopefully take some gears from it, he found a most curious thing – at its chest was some cracked glass dome. It was probably no bigger than his head; smaller, in fact. Inside laid some sort of red gem, glowing faintly as gears and cogs lay protectively around it. Curious, Rabdom reached forward and attempted to pry it open.
After several minutes of fumbling and mental cursing to Akatosh, he realized that he wasn't going to get this thing out easy. It was shiny and looked very valuable; surely Dolniir would like to have it! So he couldn't leave it behind. And, he was sure, Dolniir wouldn't be too happy being bothered unless he knew he'd actually found something of value. At least, that's how Fandreigh was. And both seemed pretty smart, too!
Thus began the long process of attempting to find a way to open it. His bow obviously wasn't going to help – it was too frail looking, even for an ebony bow of fire – and it took three arrows to figure out that not all Dwarven items were unbreakable. The few eating utensils he found lying around were also quite breakable. He'd even tried to break the glass with a pickax, only to find the pickax probably wouldn't be good for mining anymore. He wasn't very strong himself – he'd had a few people ask him if he was born sickly, or had come down with something – so, naturally, kicking at it and attempting to pry it open on several occasions also failed to work.
After what felt like hours, Rabdom sighed and plopped down on the creature's chest, feeling exhausted. He was never going to pry this accursed thing open, was he? Perhaps he should have asked Dolniir? But – and he was sure – perhaps Dolniir didn't even know that this thing existed! Else he would have warned poor Rabdom about it, right? That's what nice people did! Rabdom was full and ready to call it quits by now. He wasn't getting anywhere with this, to be honest. But he didn't want to upset Dolniir, either! He didn't like upsetting people.
Carefully, Rabdom slipped off of the Automaton, Rabdom was honestly debating whether or not he should simply tell Dolniir that he couldn't get the shiny stone from its casket when the thing began to shift. Rabdom squeaked and scattered back, fearing that the Automaton wasn't really dead, but simply asleep, and was quite ready to flee if it was. Pausing and turning his head to wait for it to get up, the Centurion Sphere didn't get up. Instead, it shifted a bit before it again stilled. Rabdom stood for the longest time, trying to figure out what he had done, when he realized that he, in fact, had a pretty good idea.