Journal entry: Rolard Nordson
Location: The ruins of Kemel-Ze
The beginning of my scholarly life began with little fanfare. I had always loved exploring and the Dwemer ruins had always held a special facination for me. I began to explore these wonderious ruins at the ripe age of twenty five. I was never a fighter unless push came to shove.
I could defend myself without weapons against almost any size foe but against the mechanical soldiers of the Dwemer it mattered not. That was why I would need an escort unlike the first time.
Raled-Makai had been picked clean for years of anything of value so it was perfect for me to study the arcetecture of the Dwemer without fear of being attacked by the remaining guardians that usually stocked those old halls.
Months passed as I studied the walls around me. I had eventually stumbled on a wall of a foreign language partially buried under some loose rubble. I was fascinated. I set to work on deciphering this unknown language into something that could be understood.
When I finished my work I was astounded. From the writing I gathered that Raled-Makai was originally a place of research. After I had submitted my report the Empress herself demanded that I set out at once for Morrowind. It was suppose to be a research expedition into the neighboring countries. I then settled on the ruins of Kemel-Ze.
The ruins of Kemel-Ze were very much different then Raled-Makai, the first ruin I had explored.
Getting to the ruins would not be a problem unlike Raled-Makai. It was known as the "Cliff City" because it lies on the mainland side of the Vvardenfel Rift, sprawling down the sheer coastal cliff.
Travelers from the east coast of Vvardenfel often visit the site by boat, but it could also be reached overland from the nearby villages without undue hardship.
Once my expedition had assembled in Seyda Neen, we set out for the village of Marog near the ruins, where we hoped to hire a party of diggers. My interpreter, Tuen Danai, was an unusually jolly fellow for a Dark Elf assured me that the local villagers would be very familiar with Kemel-Ze, having looted the site for generations.
Incidentally, Ten Penny (as we soon came to call him, to his constant amusement), and Master Arum who was my historian proved invaluable to my expedition.
At Marog, we had a line of eager villagers ready to sign up to the expedition. While my assistant was working out the mundane details of contracts, supplies, etc., Master Arum and I rode on to the ruins.
By land, they can only be by using narrow paths that wind down the face of the cliff from above, where any misstep threatens to send one tumbling into the sea foaming about the jagged rocks below.
The city's original entrance to the surface must have been in the part of the city to the northeast- the part that fell into the sea long ago when the eruption of Red Mountain created this mind-bogglingly vast crater.
After successfully navigation the treacherous path, we found ourselves in a large chamber, open to the sky on one side, disappearing into the darkness on the other. As we stepped forward, our boots crunched on piles of broken metal. This was a common occurrence in Dwarven ruins as potshards in other ancient sites.
This was obviously where the looters brought their finds from deeper levels, stripping off the valuable outer casings of the Dwarven mechanisms and leaving their innards here. It made it easier than lugging the intact mechanisms back up to the top of the cliff.
I laughed to myself. 'How many warriors were unwittingly walking around Tamriel with pieces of Dwarven mechanisms on their backs.' That, of course, is what most "Dwarven armor" really is – just the armored shells of ancient mechanical men. I sobered when I thought of how exceedingly valuable an intact mechanism would be.
This place is obviously full of Dwarven devices. 'Had been.' I reminded myself. Looters had been working over this site for centuries. Just the casing alone would be worth a small fortune, sold as armor. Most Dwarven armor is made of mismatched pieces from various devices, hence its reputation for being bulky and unwieldy. A matched set from an intact mechanism would be worth more then its weight in gold, for the pieces all fit together smoothly and the wearer hardly notices the bulk.
I snorted. I had not intention of destroying my finds for armor, no matter how valuable. I planned on bring it back to the Society for scientific study. I imagined the astonished cries of colleagues as I unveiled it in my next lecture, and smiled again.
I picked up a discarded gear from the piles at my feet. It still gleamed as brightly as if it was newly made. The Dwarven alloys resisted the corrosion of time. I wondered what secrets remained hidden in the maze of chambers that lay before me, defying the efforts of looters, waiting to gleam again in the light they had not seen in long eons. They waited for me to find them. With an impatient gesture to Master Arum to follow, I strode forward into the gloom.
Master Arum, Ten Penny, and I spent several days exploring the ruins while my assistants set up camp at the top of the cliff and hauled supplies and equipment from the village. I was looking for a promising area to begin excavation - - A blocked passage or corridor untouched by looters that might lead to completely untouched areas of the ruins.
We found two such areas early on, but soon discovered that many winding passages bypassed the blockage and gave access to the rooms behind. Nevertheless, even these outer areas, for the most part were stripped clean of artifacts by generations of looters, were full of interest to the professional archaeologist.
Behind a massive bronze door, burst from its hinges by some ancient turmoil of the earth, we discovered a large chamber filled with exquisite wall-carvings, which impressed even the jaded Ten Penny, who claimed to have explored every Dwarven Ruin in Morrowind.
They seemed to depict an ancient ritual of some kind, with a long line of classically bearded Dwarven elders processing down the side walls, all seemingly bowing to the giant form of an egg with a door set in the side that was carved into the front wall of the chamber. A man was caught in the act of stepping forth from the egg in a cloud of smoke or steam.
According to Master Arum, there are no known depictions of Dwarven religious rituals, so this was an exciting find indeed. I set a team to work prying the carved panels from the wall, but they were unable to even crack the surface. On closer examination the chamber appeared to be faced with a metallic substance with the texture and feel of stone. It was impervious to any of our tools. I considered having Master Arum try blasting magic on the walls, but decided that the risk of destroying the carvings was too great.
As much as I would have preferred to bring them back to the Imperial City, I had to settle for taking rubbings of the carvings. If my colleagues in the Society showed enough interest, I was sure a specialist could be found, perhaps a master alchemist who could find a way to safely remove the panels.
After many detours I found I found a blocked passage that drew my interest. It was wide and was impressively flanked with carven pillars. It ended in a massive rock fall, but we could see were looters had begun and then abandoned a tunnel through this debris.
With my team of diggers and Master Arum's magery to assist, I believed we could succeed where our predecessors had failed. I therefore set my team of Dark Elves to work on clearing the passage. I was relieved to finally to be beginning the real exploration of Kemel-Ze. Soon, I hoped, my boots would be stirring up dust that had lain undisturbed since the dawn of time.
The blockage was much worse than I had first thought, and in the end it took almost two weeks to clear the passage. The diggers were as excited as I was when their picks finally broke through the far end into emptiness, and we shared a round of the local liquor together, to show that all was forgiven. I could hardly restrain my eagerness as they enlarged the hole to allow entry into the chamber beyond.
Would the passage lead to entire new levels of the ancient city, filled with artifacts left by the vanished Dwarves? Or would it be only a dead end, some side passage leading nowhere? My excitement grew as I slid through the hole and crouched for a moment in the darkness beyond. From the echoing sounds of stones rattling beneath my feet, I was in a large room. Perhaps very large.
I stood up carefully, and unhooded my lantern. As the light flooded the chamber, I looked around in astonishment. Here were wonders beyond even my wildest dreams! As the light from my lamp filled the chamber beyond the rock fall, I looked around in astonishment. Everywhere was the warm glitter of Dwarven alloys. I had found an untouched section of the ancient city! My heart was pounding with excitement. I looked around me.
The room was vast. The roof soured up into the darkness beyond the reach of my lamp. The far end was lost in shadows with only a tantalizing glimmer hinting at treasures not yet revealed. Along each wall stood rows of mechanical men, intact except for one oddity: their heads had been ritually removed and placed on the ground at their feet.
This could mean only one thing. I had discovered the tomb of a great Dwarven noble, maybe even a king! Burials of this type had been discovered before, most famously by Ransom's expedition to Hammerfell, but no completely intact tomb had ever been found. Until now.
But if this was truly a royal burial, where was the tomb? I stepped forward gingerly, the rows of headless bodies standing silently as they had for eons, Their disembodied eyes seeming to watch me as I passed. I had heard wild tales of the Curse of the Dwarves, but had always laughed it off as superstition.
But now, breathing the same air as the mysterious builders of this city, which had lain undisturbed since the cataclysm that spelled their doom, I felt a twinge of fear. There was some power here. I felt it. Something malevolent that resented my presence. I stopped for a moment and listened. All was silent.
Except… it seemed I heard a faint hiss, regular as breathing. I fought down a sudden surge of panic. I was unarmed, not thinking of danger in my haste to explore past the blocked passage. Sweat dripped down my face as I scanned the gloom for any movement. The room was warm, I suddenly noticed, much warmer than the rest of the labyrinth thus far.
My excitement returned. Could I have found a section of the city still connected to a functioning steam grid? Pipes ran along the walls, as in all sections of the city. I walked over and placed my hand on one. It was hot, almost too hot to touch!
Now I saw that in places where the ancient piping had corroded, small jets of steam were escaping – The sound I had heard. I laughed at my own credulity. I advanced quickly to the far end of the room, only stopping to look at what looked like an egg between two statues. Steam rose from the bottom. I could not figure out what it was so I moved on.
I gave a cheerful salute to the ranks of mechanical soldiers who had appeared so menacing only moments before. I smiled with triumph as the light swept back the darkness of centuries to reveal the effigy of a Dwarven king standing on a raised dais, his metal hand clutching his rod of office. This was the pride indeed! I circled the dais slowly, admiring the craftsmanship of the ancient Dwarves. The golden king stood twenty feet tall under a freestanding domed cupola, his long upswept beard jutting forward proudly as his glittering metal eyes seemed to follow me.
But my superstitious mood had passed, and I gazed benevolently on the old Dwarven king. My king, as I had already began to think of him. I stepped onto the dais to get a better look at the sculpted armor. Suddenly the eyes of the figure opened and it raised a mailed fist to strike!
I leaped to the side as the golden arm came crashing down, striking sparks from the steps where I had stood a moment before. With a hiss of steam and the whir of gears, the giant figure stepped ponderously out from under its canopy and strode towards me with frightening speed, its eyes tracking me as I scrambled backwards. I dodged behind a pillar as the fist whistled down again. Chips and cracks flew in all directions as I scrambled back.
I had dropped my lantern in the confusion and now crept into the darkness outside the pool of light, hoping to slip between the headless mechanisms and thus escape back to the safety of the passageway. Where had the monster gone? You would think that a twenty-foot golden king would be hard to miss, but he was nowhere to be seen. The guttering lamp only illuminated a small part of the room. He could be hiding anywhere in the gloom. I crawled faster. With out warning, the dim ranks of Dwarven soldiers in front of me went flying as the monstrous guardian loomed before me. He had cut off my escape!
As I dodged backwards, blow after blow whistled down as the implacable machine followed me relentlessly, driving me into the far corner of the room. At last there was nowhere left for me to go. My back was to the wall. I glared up at my foe, determined to die on my feet. The huge fists lifted for one final blow.
The room blazed with sudden light. Bolts of purple energy crackled across the metal carapace of the Dwarven monster, and it halted, half-turning to meet this new threat.
Master Arum had come! I was about to raise a cheer when the giant figure turned back to me, unharmed by the lightning bolt hurled by Master Arum, determined to destroy this first intruder. I shouted out "Steam! Steam!" as the giant raised his fist to crush me into the floor.
Unknown to the three combatants the 'egg' stopped spouting steam and the back opened up like a flower. Inside was a white skinned elf with dark brown hair that slowly woke. His eyes soon opened to the sound of a fight and his golden irises glowed in the low light. Slowly he stood to his full height that would be a head above most men. His only cloths on was a rough spun shirt and a pair of boots. With a glance at the fight he knew he would be no help so he fled the area.
There was a hiss and a gust of bitter cold and Rolard looked up. The monster was now covered with a shell of ice, frozen in the very moment of dispatching me. Master Arum had understood. I leaned against the wall with relief.
The ice cracked above me. The giant golden king stood before me, the shell of ice falling away, His head swiveling toward me in triumph. Was there no stopping this Dwarven monstrosity?! But then the light faded from his eyes , and his arms dropped to his sides. The magical frost had worked, cooling its steam-driven energy.
As Master Arum and the diggers crowded around me, congratulating me on my narrow escape, his thoughts drifted. The egg to his left was different. It was open, but there was nothing in it. Could what had been in it escape? No he thought not. The only exit was through the diggers tunnel and not one of them saw anything. It must have been empty to begin with.