Chapter 1

History in the Making

Bjorn's footsteps clattered through the streets of Solitude, the afternoon sun rising over Castle Dour. The crimson flags emblazoned with the Haafingar Wolf drifted lazily in the autumn wind, just chilled enough to put Bjorn in his weathered fur coat. He never left home without it, and the thought that it would finally be done in here instead of on the bitter plains of Atmora made him smile.

After the events on Atmora a year ago, the College had made no formal attempt to contact him again. Bjorn kept his silence, and to the College, he was still just a sellsword and a nobody. Not worth their time, apparently. However, the College was always prominent in Bjorn's mind, and he would write to a particular student there twice a week. For the past year, Bjorn and Mariah had maintained nearly constant contact, and he was always fascinated with the work she was doing. The papers by Arniel Gane and Calcecemo in Markarth offered vast insight into the Dwemer disappearance, and it seemed she and her assistant, Pyric Thorne, got closer and closer to a breakthrough with every letter.

Today's mail was a bit unusual, however. One was a letter from the Captain of the Solitude Guard calling him to the prison at his earliest convenience; someone had requested a word with him. The other letter was from Mariah, but it was unlike any Bjorn had gotten previously. Her detailed descriptions and beautiful handwriting were replaced with a few short statements hastily scrawled on the parchment:

Bjorn

Something amazing has happened.

Need to see you. Come to Winterhold as soon as possible.

Mariah

Once more, Bjorn was Winterhold-bound, but he decided to stop at the Castle before he left to see what was so important. The sturdy stone gateway passed over him, and the sound of the marketplace chatter was replaced with the clashing of swords as the guards tested their arm in the courtyard. Many of them greeted Bjorn as he passed by. After Atmora, it was easy to forget that back here in Skyrim, the Frosthammer family was practically royalty. Currently, Bjorn's mother and father were on business in Cyrodiil, negotiating a shifty arrangement with merchants from Blackmarsh. This, in effect, made Bjorn the most powerful person in Solitude, with the exception of the High Queen.

The door to the prison groaned open and the outside light poured into the dim room. The guard at the desk stood up in objection, but upon recognizing Bjorn, simply waved him through to the cells. Within, the Captain of the Guard stood motionless in front of the nearest cell. He nodded sternly before gesturing towards the cage.

"This prisoner here says he knows you. Figured we'd get you in here to confirm this."

Bjorn took a step closer but couldn't see inside yet. "I need details. What can you tell me about him?"

"Dunmer. Auburn hair, and an attitude as sharp as a dagger. Remarkably high endurance, and quiet as a mouse... when he wants to be."

"Open the gate. I have a feeling that I do indeed know him."

The cell door creaked open and the Dunmer turned to Bjorn. A huge grin cracked across his face and he laughed jovially, throwing his arms out wide.

"If it isn't Bjorn Frosthammer!" the Dunmer chuckled, stepping closer with an outstretched hand.

Bjorn approached and shook it firmly, his smile just as wide.

"If it isn't the famed Drenyir Yamarith. What trouble have you gotten yourself into now?"

Drenyir winked and raised his voice so the Captain could hear him. "I killed a chicken. Apparently that's punishable by death. What have you been up to?"

"I'm actually heading out to see Mariah at the College. Something important has come up. Care to join?"

Drenyir smiled, presenting his chained wrists. "Would love to, but sadly, I'm not going anywhere."

"Nonsense! Captain, he's free to go. I'll pay his bail."

The Captain heaved a heavy sigh and unchained the Dunmer, motioning towards the door. Drenyir and Bjorn left gladly, leaving the Captain standing in the cell, disgruntled, with a small pouch of gold jingling quietly in his hands.

Drenyir inhaled the outside air deeply before walking out towards the marketplace with Bjorn in tow. "Nice to get out of there. The guards got used to my banter pretty quickly."

"How long did they keep you?" Bjorn asked, matching the Dunmer's pace.

"Two days. I spent weeks on Atmora with you. You think they could hold me here? Nah."

"Why didn't you mention me earlier?"

"I was havin' fun, believe it or not. But I got bored once the guards started ignorin' me though. Figured you'd be my way out."

"Well I was. I didn't have to be, you know."

Drenyir burst into laughter. "Ha! Like you could stand livin' here with me off the streets."

Bjorn clapped him on the back. "Sadly, you're not wrong."

The two left Solitude, heading down the road to the Frosthammer private carriage. The sunlight glistened off the bay; ships heading in and out of the port. Drenyir climbed into the carriage, sitting down across from Bjorn, who was giving instructions to the driver.

"So we're going to Winterhold again, are we? Seeing Mariah?" Drenyir asked, stroking his goatee inquisitively.

"Thats the plan. She says it's important."

"Why else would she want you there unless it was dire?"

"Maybe because we're engaged to be married? Your sarcasm hasn't been dulled at all, my friend. But I'm not sure. What could be so dangerous about research like this?"

"You never know. Hear about that Arniel Gane guy? He was doin' the same work; up and disappeared one day. No one knows where he went."

"I had heard about that. Mariah's assistant, Pyric Thorne, was his apprentice before he disappeared. Perhaps he knows something about all this."

"Is it possible to have a normal adventure anymore?"

"What have you been doing the last year? Was none of it considered normal?"

Drenyir thought for a moment before shrugging, defeated. "I guess being the town fletcher and spending days out in the wilderness hunting game for the market could be considered normal."

"That's what I thought. You love the adventure. Thats why you agreed to come along."

Drenyir leaned back and closed his eyes. "Your perception is impeccable, Frosthammer. That's also why I wound up in jail. Just wanted a little excitement is all. Wake me when we get there, would you? The man in the next cell snored every night."

Bjorn watched the Dunmer doze off before taking a moment to admire his surroundings. Upon returning to Skyrim, Bjorn remained within the walls of Solitude, writing his memoirs or practising with Godbane. It had been over a year since he traveled these roads, and it reminded him just how breathtaking northern Skyrim was. Shining ocean and a constant dusting of snow accented the sparse forests and mountains rising from the ground that brushed the clouds. Bjorn reclined and watched the sun set over the Sea of Ghosts, thinking back to Atmora and what the future held for the lost continent. Would it ever be like this again? His thoughts turned to dreams as the rocking of the carriage carried him to sleep.


Bjorn was roused by an insessant kicking on his leg. When his eyes cracked open, they revealed an irritated dark elf swearing under his breath. Bjorn sat up and looked around. The quiet town of Winterhold was bathed in the light of the full moons, with a gentle snow drifting lazily on the wind. Drenyir's eyes rolled back and he threw his hands up as he stepped off the carriage.

"You were supposed to wake me when we got here! Look who had to do the waking!"

Bjorn stood up and jumped off the carriage, double-checking that Godbane still rested at his side. "Complain all you want. We're here at least."

"I will complain. You snore too."

After a short walk from the carriage, the two stood at the gates to the College's bridge. Despite the time of night, Faralda still stood outside, prepared to test anyone with the audacity to approach the College. The Altmer cast a judgemental gaze at the two before her and prompted a simple question.

"Welcome to the College of Winterhold. Albeit very.. very late. Why should you be allowed entry to this institution?"

Drenyir cocked his head and opened his mouth to speak, but Bjorn pushed him out of the way before whatever sarcastic comment he had in mind ruined their chance of getting inside. Faralda focused her eyes on Bjorn, who remained level-headed as he explained his situation.

"We're here to see Mariah Valentino, a student here studying the dwarven disappearance and it's possible relationship to advanced magicks. She wrote to me saying it was rather urgent, and that I had to come immediately."

Faralda put her hands on her hips and looked at him quizzically for a moment. "Yes, I am aware of Ms. Valentino's work. I suppose I could let you in, so long as you remain under constant supervision. Tell me, Nord... you seem familiar. Have you been to the College before?"

Bjorn put his head down just low enough to hide his smile from Faralda. "No, ma'am. I have never set foot inside those walls."

Drenyir scoffed, but Faralda ignored him. She pushed open the gate and gestured for them to follow her across the bridge. Bjorn remembered this walk and how uneasy it made him feel. Despite the rigid stone walkway surviving the Great Collapse and years of harsh weather, he could swear that the bridge was moments from crumbling beneath his feet. Nothing about the courtyard had changed, with the gate still swinging open on approach and the Candlelights floating like Elder moths over the braziers. Faralda stopped them in the center.

"I will go into the Hall of Countenance and summon Ms. Valentino. Disregard my comment about constant surveillance, Mr. Frosthammer. Don't look so surprised, of course I recognized you. I'll be right back.

Faralda disappeared into the hall and left Bjorn with Drenyir in the courtyard. The few moments passed in silence before Faralda returned with a sleep-deprived Mariah, desperately clutching dozens of scrolls that started fluttering in the night wind. When the last piece of parchment was secured in a small chest, Mariah looked up and grinned wildly. Dropping the chest, she ran to Bjorn, throwing her arms around him. After a moment, she backed off and cleared her throat, returning to a facade of professionalism. However, the sparkle of pure happiness still glimmered in her eyes. Mariah turned to Faralda and nodded, dismissing her. The Altmer turned back to the bridge, leaving the three alone in the courtyard. After Faralda had disappeared, Mariah turned back to Bjorn. She took a moment to search for the words.

"Bjorn.. its so good to see you again. I've missed you, my love."

Bjorn pulled her into another embrace. "You've gotten all my letters?"

"I've read every one. Kept them next to my research all year. Reminded me what I had to come back to."

The two held each other in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other's presence. The moment was quickly broken by Drenyir's foot tapping impatiently.

"Nice to see you too, Mariah. It's been awhile," he joked, taking a step closer. Mariah let go of Bjorn and turned to the Dunmer, who stood with his arms crossed in melodramatic frustration.

"Of course I didn't forget about you, Drenyir," she admitted, placing her hands on her hips. "Never before have a met a bigger smartass that can shoot a bow so perfectly."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Bjorn tapped her shoulder, returning her attention to the task at hand. "You said you had something in the works? Something urgent?"

Mariah thought for a moment before her eyes lit up in realization. "Thats right, thats right! Thank you, Bjorn. I was... distracted. Let me grab my notes. Follow me."

After grabbing the chest she dropped earlier, Mariah motioned for them to follow her towards the Hall of Elements. Just before the door, however, Mariah made a sharp left, leading them to a small hatch tucked away in the corner, blanketed in shadow and snow. She grabbed the handle and pulled it open, a harrowing wind escaping the cavern below.

"What is this?" Bjorn asked, peering down into the darkness.

"The Midden," Mariah answered, dropping the box down the hatch. "A cave system that runs beneath the College." She took a few steps down the ladder before looking up. "Lots of dangerous magic down here."

Bjorn and Drenyir exchanged worried looks before following the Imperial down into the tunnels. The walls were thick with ice and old brick, with recently-lit sconces lighting the way down the winding paths. Mariah walked briskly, drifting expertly through the tunnels, with Bjorn and Drenyir stumbling behind her, trying to keep up. Eventually, Mariah stopped in front of an old, worn door with an eerie blue glow around its edges. She knocked lightly, and an ethereal voice drifted through the door.

"Who waits outside on this night?"

Mariah spoke to the door, addressing the voice inside. "Mariah Valentino and friends, coming to work on my..." she stopped for a moment, trying to think of the right word. "Project."

"Ah yes. Your assistant is already inside. I will provide whatever aid I can, Ms. Valentino."

The door swung open, revealing nothing but a large basin of shimmering blue liquid. At the far end of the room, a dwemer contraption stood next to a cluttered desk. A figure stood over the desk, intensely studying a dwemer lexicon. Drenyir looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. "Who was that?" he asked, still scanning the room.

"The Auger," Mariah replied, moving towards the desk. "The Auger has been an invaluable asset... after we figured out just how to communicate with him."

"But who is he?"

Mariah turned and shot Drenyir a sly smile. "It'd ruin the mystery if I told you that, wouldn't it?"

The pool shimmered brighter, a small orb appearing above the basin. "My origin has been lost to history. Only I remember what became of me. This is how I'd like it to remain."

When the three arrived at the workstation, Mariah began unpacking her notes from the chest. The man over the dwemer lexicon looked disheveled, with dirty robes covered in patches from multiple repairs. He was a Breton, with a head of long black hair, grimy and knotted in many places, that hung down past his shoulders. He was absolutely motionless, silently staring at the runed cube in front of him. As Mariah closed the empty chest, he turned towards Bjorn and Drenyir. He spoke, his voice deep and clear.

"Two figures. A Nord and a Dunmer. Friends of yours, I presume?"

Bjorn noticed his eyes were white and glazed over, his face covered in burn scars. This man was blind. Mariah stepped to Bjorn's side and introduced them.

"Yes, they would be my friends. Pyric, this is Bjorn Frosthammer of Solitude."

Bjorn outstretched his hand, which Pyric shooked without hesitation.

"And this Dunmer behind me is Drenyir Yamarith, from Raven Rock."

Drenyir nodded in acknowledgment, which Pyric returned.

"Bjorn, Drenyir.. this is Pyric Thorne, or Pyric the Unseeing."

Pyric bowed, before smiling warmly. "It is truly my pleasure to meet such interesting individuals. Mariah has told me much about each of you."

Drenyir cocked his head curiously. "The Unseeing?" he restated, stroking his goatee. "How'd you get that name?"

Pyric merely shook his head and started walking towards the Dwemer contraption next to the desk. "That is a story for another time," he mumbled, equipping an ornate Dwemer gauntlet before placing a small crystal dagger from his satchel on the contraption. "But I will admit, I am blind. But my vision is still impeccable. I can detect the magic aura of things around me, whether living or inanimate. Therefore, I can still create an accurate depiction of my surroundings."

Bjorn took a moment to study the contraption. It was oddly reminiscent of an Oblivion gate, but made of bronze and dwemer metals. Protrusions jutted out into the center with sparks jumping between them. Standing about eight feet tall, the contraption as a whole stood on a metal pedestal that rose up like a staircase. The small dagger rested in a transparent dwarven convector, glowing slightly.

Mariah joined Pyric next to the contraption, turning a small crank, making the machine spark violently. "His condition hasn't affected his work as a Conjuration student at all," she explained, taking a step back from the machine. "But shall we show you what was so important?"

Pyric placed his hands behind his back, pacing like an instructor would. "It has taken hundreds of years of research," he began, gesturing as he talked, "but the combined efforts of Dwemer scholars across Tamriel have led to this moment. By studying some of the most advanced dwarven technology, we have finally discovered where the Deep Ones have gone. Following the war at Red Mountain thousands of years ago, the collective race of Dwemer vanished from Tamriel in First Era, 700. Many believed them dead. But some of the more radical scholars hypothesized that the race was transported to a different dimension by the Kings and scientists of their race. A burst of magicka emanated from the capital, Volenfell, using the other city's exposed spires as conduits to keep the field charged, and any Mer with Dwemer blood was teleported to this dimension once the burst collided with them. This crystal dagger is Keening, the legendary weapon wielded by the Nerevarine to destroy the Heart of Lorkhan. It has been passed down from Dwarves to Men to Mer, hero to hero, before finally coming into the hands of my late teacher, Arniel Gane."

"It is true, he disappeared a few years ago, but to where was unknown. At the site of his disappearance, we found scorch marks etched into ground, and this dagger. Following his notes and his schematics, we know that Arniel Gane built one of these contraptions in secret, but upon opening the portal, the machine imploded on itself, dragging the machine and my master into whatever dimension lay beyond. What Gane failed to do in his rush for answers was calibrate the energy that the contraption drew from Keening. Too much and the machine will implode, too little and it will fail to conjure a portal. Mariah and I have used the dagger as a conduit for this contraption, which we believe, when correctly calibrated, will function as a key to open a portal to a dimension between Nirn and Aetherius, seeing as Keening has spilt the blood of Dwemer and gods alike. Today, we plan on opening this portal to see if what we hypothesize is true. If the contraption works, it will create a portal, not unlike one we conjure to summon daedric beasts, that we can use as a window into their world."

Mariah rested her hand on a lever, glancing towards Pyric. The Breton turned to Bjorn and Drenyir. "Are you two ready to experience history?"

Bjorn nodded, as did Drenyir.

"Fantastic," exclaimed Pyric, clapping his hands together. "Mariah, start the machine."

Keening began to glow as soon as Mariah pulled the lever. The machine began shaking violently, sparks crackling off of the spires. In the center of the arch, a small violet swirl began to form as a slight breeze circulated through the room. Keening shook vigorously in it's convector, shining as bright as any Magelight. The swirl spread to the edges of the arch, the machine shaking more intensely. Pyric took a step closer, waiting for the final moment. Bjorn, Mariah and Drenyir, however, took a cautious step back. The sparks became full-blown lightning chains, the wind in the room turning into frightening gusts. The notes on the desk scattered into the wind, circulating around the room. Suddenly, the Auger's voice returned, some alarm apparent in his ethereal voice.

"Mr. Thorne, I suggest disabling the device. A dangerous amount of magical aura is being formed, emanating from the portal."

Pyric turned to the Auger's basin, his hair whipping violently in the gusts. "No!" he shouted, stepping away from the contraption. "I won't stop when I'm so close!"

Bjorn noticed the convector that held Keening had begun to crack, Keening's light shining unhindered through the fractures. The metal arch began to contort and twist, being drawn into the portal. As Pyric continued to argue with the Auger, Mariah and Drenyir rushed to the lever on the device in a desperate effort to destroy the gate. The convector shattered, leaving Keening floating inches above the ground, beginning to steam with energy. The lever refused to budge.

"Bjorn!" shouted Mariah, continuing to tug on the switch. "Take out the conduit! Get rid of Keening!"

Pyric turned back to the portal, his face twisted with fear. "Get away from that machine!"

Bjorn's fingers wrapped around Keening as he prepared to yank it out. But as his hand made contact, he was immediately assailed by an incredible pain. His fingers gripped the hilt, unable to let go. Bjorn felt like he was on fire, every part of him burning with agony. Bjorn threw his head back and screamed, the pain becoming unbearable. The metal surrounding the gate finally gave way and broke, disappearing into the void.

"It's going to implode!"

Suddenly, all went quiet as the void pulled in Bjorn, Mariah, Drenyir and Pyric, leaving the Auger's room silent and empty. The contraption disappeared, leaving nothing but scorch marks on the ground, the notes fluttering gently to the stone floor.