Guide:

Dwemeris

Thoughts

"Speech"

"Dovahzul"

Warnings/Disclaimer: see chapter 4

Chapter Warning(s): Gore, canon-typical murder sprees, slightly more descriptive gore, blood, Falmer, Chaurus having dinner, injuries.

Important Notice: UPPING THE RATING TO 'M' SOON. PROBABLY THE NEXT CHAPTER! Consider yourself warned.

Last time…

"Well, this was an enlightening conversation. But we really need to get going, unless any of you want to travel at night?"

Chapter 23 – Mzulft

Ah, Mzulft. How I had not recognised it upon first laying eyes upon the three sun-reflecting golden towers on top I have no idea.

…I know perfectly well. It's because I'm an idiot that never paid attention in class when I was supposed to.

I clear my throat and clasp my hands together enthusiastically, ignoring the practically vibrating apprentice wizards – just two, I consider Marcurio to be at least Adept by now – standing at my left.

"Let's hope there's no Falmer in here. If they're not, this will all go swimmingly. Aside from the deadly traps, frostbite spiders, pitfalls, Skeevers, and other assorted nasty surprises."

"Aren't you forgetting the automatons?" I give Onmund a small, confident grin. "Trust me, the Animunculi won't be an issue." Marcurio deadpans before I can get a word out.

I jab him in the ribs with my elbow in 'thanks'. No need to spoil any surprises after all.

"Hey! No injuring allies before the fight!"

I raise an eyebrow at the Imperial mage even as I carefully try the doors. "If you're going to call that an injury, I pray to Si- Arkay that you'll last longer than a minute once we're in there."

Then, to the students: "The trick to Dwemer ruins is to expect the worst kind of brutal death with every single step you take and act accordingly. That means, no touching doors or chests without checking thrice, no distracting, no disregarding any strange sounds or distant noises, and please avoid explosions and other loud, enemy-alerting noises while we're in there. Thank you." I end on a somewhat exasperated note as J'zargo pretends not to be paying attention to me at all.

I know he's listening, but with a trap-ridden ruin in front of my nose with two novices to watch out for aside from a far-too careless Marcurio, I'm a little high strung. Just a little. All right, stay calm. Pretend Jenassa is giving you advice. Or something.

Actually, pretending Jenassa is here might be a terrible idea since her presence is enough for me to start jumping at every shifting shadow and I'll be doing enough of that, thank you very much.

Either way… We enter Mzulft on guard, but the first thing that catches my eye isn't an enemy, well, not an enemy in the sense of being dangerous. The man lies there, bloody and broken, and somewhere behind me J'zargo hisses darkly. I'm just walking up to him, close enough to hear his warbled sounds, only to hear of a … crystal? Something stolen? His voice is faint and fading fast, and by the time I've ran up to his body and kneeled over it, the Imperial moans softly in pain once more before falling silent – not breathing. I check for a pulse quickly, but let my hand fall away limp.

Glancing over my shoulder, I shake my head. Onmund whimpers and J'zargo grabs his hand between their robes, barely visible. My eyes widen briefly in surprise, but other than that I show no signs of having noticed. I see, so they're more than friends. What prejudice they must face here in Skyrim, even in the College. Poor souls.

I rifle through the newly dead man's pockets in silence as Marcurio keeps an eye out for enemies and the two students try to calm each other down. The Antechamber seems to be free of any further messes, though. I find a key and a research notebook. I leave the key with the other ones on my belt.

It's a miracle I can still walk without jingling, though I left most keys in Hjerim - or with Falkreath's Steward, considering the keys the bandits in that hold had held. Quickly, I turn to the notes.

"Marcurio, catch."

I say a few moments later, unable to read some of the jargon the man used still. It's barely been a year, after all, and not everyone in Skyrim writes letters all the time in the same, neat and legible handwriting, so my reading skills are still a bit shaky… Though my speed is the biggest problem, and I probably could have worked it out on my own, given the time. But I don't wish to waste any of that right now.

It's pathetic. My people were a race far more advanced than most nowadays could ever hope to be, and yet I can barely read!

The mage sighs, but dutifully starts reading it to me even as the Winterhold mages stare in confusion.

"Why does he need to read it out loud?" Onmund questions, and I grimace. "I'm… still fairly new to the language. I'm not a fast reader." The teen nods once in understanding, curiosity satisfied. J'zargo is not so easily stopped.

"J'zargo does not understand. Have you not been taught to read and write the common language as all other children?"

I… Well, not the language the Khajit is talking about, no. Marcurio, having paused every time one of us talked, is slowly getting more annoyed. "Can you three brats shut up for a few moments?"

I smartly shut up, giving him my most angelic smile. To my ever-lasting surprise, he smiles back, cheeks colouring – or is that the light? Sound far more likely. I then take the key and hold it up to the light briefly.

The only way forwards is locked.

Am I feeling lucky?

The answer to that is yes, as the doors open smoothly. "Let's clear each room as we pass through. Before we head out, here's the signals Marcurio and I use – This is 'Stop'. This is 'Danger'. This is 'Trap'. This means 'Enemy', when using this one, hold up the amount of fingers for the amount of enemies, curl them like this-"

With each sign, I hold my hand in the right position for a few moments, hoping that it's enough for them to remember. "- if you think you're in a situation above your level, or at least in one that will be a serious challenge. Play this game smart and you'll live. As the one with most experience in Dwemer c- ruins, I'll move first to spot most of the traps."

Once all three members of my party have agreed and J'zargo has copied the signs flawlessly, we finally descend into what will likely be even worse than Raldbthar.

The right wall of the first tunnel has collapsed, partially, at least. Thick tree roots and earth grow and poke out from between pillars and stone. I purse my lips disapprovingly, but then again, I'm not entirely sure how much older Mzulft is compared to Nchuand-Zel since we're… since Markarth is located further west, where my people took longer to settle.

I climb the ramp first, keeping a watchful eye every second to see if – I signal 'trap', even as I whisper the word as loudly as I dare, pointing at the trigger plate in the floor and then, after a bet of searching, at the round holes above our heads. A harsh exhale echoes from behind me, probably Onmund but it can also be Marcurio being impatient. I imagine it would sound the same either way.

I'm trying to teach these novices how not to lose their heads in here, quite literally. This isn't good for my blood pressure.

The dead researcher I carefully step over – the holes all over his body are a clear indication of what happened, and the trail of blood he left probably meant he was trying to get help before being skewered – goes mostly ignored. The other guy's companion? Regardless of the corpse's identity, I now know we can't linger here too long.

J'zargo hands Onmund the healing potion dropped next to the researcher while I scan the area ahead to find some pots and urns arranged for an animal sacrifice to Sait'iss. I huff without sound at the Dwemer spider up ahead.

"I need your help." I state, before rattling off my name and intentions in Dwemeris, using the Calling to verify with them – after that Centurion in Raldbthar, I've learned to be more cautious. The spiders greet me and agree to not attack, though they won't accompany us further, 'telling' me about the Falmer threat ahead before going back to their rounds.

…

"This one thinks it must be quite hard to walk through the ruins of the cities of their own people."

For a few moments, I just stand there, frozen, eyes on the Khajit who smiles in quite the unsettling way. A tail twitches, I breathe in, and the moment passes. "You have no idea." Onmund is brimming with questions, I can tell, but he knows that our meagre cover is more important.

Now, I go first, the mages taking up the task of guarding my back. We move further up a ramp, eastwards, I believe, and meanwhile, we pass plenty of broken pottery and scraps – what did these Dwemer need all these for? A garden party? Two doors, and two more spiders ignoring our party. "So which was do we go now?" Marcurio asks, leaning against the wall briefly as J'zargo once more twirls his staff, and Onmund runs a hand along the carvings on nearly every surface in awe, the spiders scuttling about his feet not seeming to bother him now that he knows they're no threat.

Only one of the doors is trapped. Common sense dictates that that is therefore the one that should be investigated first. "This one's most likely a dead end. I'd like for you all to step aside -step away from it just in case." I walk up to it, having seen the holes in the floor and the tension cable in the corner. It takes all of two seconds to figure out the purpose of the setup.

Chances of this being spears? Over 90%, easily.

That said, spear traps take a second or so to activate. I eye the door handle and grin.

I lift my leg.

I almost can't believe that even though I pull shit like this I'm still better prepared than most adventurers. "Here goes nothing."

BAM.

I let myself hop back right after, drawing my leg back to the ground fast as lightning when the door slams open, triggering the trap and letting spears shoot out of the ground. I wait a few seconds for them to sink back in before easily waltzing through the opening.

"Are you sure he knows what he's doing?" I hear Onmund ask under his breath. "No, but I've yet to see him fall into a Skeever den, so he must be doing something right." Comes Marcurio's easy reply even as he follows me.

The steam is warm, almost uncomfortably so. But that's part of the charm of steam mechanisms, since I know for a fact Ma swore by the steam-powered sauna.

Jeez, do yourself a favour and stop thinking of your family every ten seconds, it only hurts more. I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, not bothering to use more than the Calling to alert a fifth spider to out friendly presence.

My companions can't carry the small amount of treasures still in the unlocked chest Spidey no. 5 was guarding, so we distribute the coin and amethysts evenly. I ignore the scrap metal I'd zo zealously gathered in Raldbthar. I can smelt the materials I still have gathered about first and probably have enough to last a month or two.

That said, no scraps. I let Onmund pick up a few for research without saying anything to Marcurio's 'By the eight, he's as bad as you were.' I roll my eyes, standing still as I do so and spot two scuttles.

I take a few fast steps ahead, letting the spider burst forwards in its ambush and allowing the other spider, No. 5, to click at it reproachfully. I pet its head with a smile. "No harm done." We move further, the sounds of the spiders moving about easily overpowering the noise of our breathing.

Falmer with bows will therefore aim low, expecting only spiders. I am so, so sorry that I have to use these little ones as targets for as long as they're with us in this zone. They're doing what they were meant to, sure, but it makes me feel like a scumbag.

The Dwemer architecture makes way for natural rock and stone and something inside me shifts – new mining.

Who mines?

The Falmer mine – and these tunnels seem especially recently dug.

I swallow, drawing my axes just to be sure. Sensing my newfound unease, the mages tense almost in perfect unison, Onmund readying his staff though J'zargo doesn't move to grab for a weapon yet.

The next room proves my hunch correct – A Chaurus hunter, eating a researcher. The Winterhold apprentices both gag, and J'zargo covers his sensitive nose at the unrivalled stench oozing from the creature. So absorbed in its meal that it luckily doesn't notice their slips.

Marcurio glares at the novices reproachfully even as my eyes drink in every detail of the room. Just the one Chaurus here. Others must be further ahead. There's plenty of human foods around, and there's another dead researcher or two here somewhere. I signal 'one enemy, danger', before slowly moving out, sticking to the darker parts of the room as far as possible. The two spiders who came in this far with us aren't that patient – they charge immediately.

As the Chaurus is distracted by them, Marcurio starts firing Lightning at the creature, his accuracy barely enough to avoid hitting the spiders – Then, when I see my opening, I sprint from cover, axe raised high as I pounce on the thing, drawing blackish blood that splatters all over me and my Animunculi friends. I let out a low growl, jumping away whilst swinging my axes deliberately – giving Marcurio the chance to fire again, this time joined by J'zargo until the hunter lies dead.

I stay frozen in place, entirely unmoving aside from my ears searching for the smallest of noises – no direct threats. I straighten up. Looks like we're already down to no spiders.

The food doesn't look very tasty at all from where I'm standing, but I know that I didn't eat enough at breakfast. So I swallow down some raw salmon even as I check the knapsack and the satchel I find, getting help from Marcurio and J'zargo as Onmund stands around poking at the Chaurus corpse with a scholar's look of fascination all over his face.

"I have a feeling this is the last moment of ease we'll have for a bit."

I throw some fruits at Onmund even as J'zargo snickers at an amateur tripwire in the next hall.

More Chaurus follow, and I vaguely wonder how anything, be it Dwemer or Falmer, got an entire mammoth in here through the tunnels even as I stay back and allow the mages to make quick work of the Falmer pets.

For a while after that, we only encounter more Animunculi, who don't like the mages enough to help me out at all with the exception of a single sphere that stays at my heels like a particularly happy guard dog.

It must be one with caretaker protocols, since it follows even beyond its designated patrolling area.

There's also enough treasure to loot for the Winterhold students, and seeing them pick up and tuck away all the gyros and other small trinkets they can get their hands on makes me feel rather… odd. But, I have no right to speak since as Marcurio mentioned earlier, I was just as bad in the past few times we went tomb-delving.

We also find an alchemy station, which is more interesting to me since I'm running low on ingredients for stamina potions. I'm no poisons master, so I'm content to only take the few ingredients that will help me and leave the rest to a far-too-happy Khajit.

It's when we get to another set of double doors, past a trap, when the two novice explorers gasp in horror. I blink and growl as I take note of the dead spiders, and more notably the Falmer corpse. The Animunculi still at my side bristles – I'm pretty sure we're not going to have the sphere with us for a long time once we've moved beyond the suddenly ominous-looking Dwemer doors leading to… a boilery, it seems. Marcurio lets out a long-suffering sigh. "I was hoping those Chaurus would be the end of it."

"Looks like our luck so far is quickly running out." I agree, turning to the students. "That's a Falmer. If you see any alive, either run or blast it with all the force you can muster." Staves are drawn, and I adjust the grip on my axes as Marcurio opens the next doors.

The first things we see are more destroyed Animunculi – by Xrib, is that one still twitching? And I crouch low immediately, being copied by the others as my ears twitch in an attempt to hear any incoming threats – and I hear one. Approaching us.

I lift my axes a little higher, my every muscle tensing as adrenaline roars through my veins. I control my breathing carefully, adjust my stance ever-so-slightly – and when the Falmer turns the corner and spots us, I'm off before Onmund has even finished charging his Staff. I duck to the side of the creature, sliding over the floor a bit and forcing the deadly bastard to focus either on me or on the mages. When it goes for the nearest threat, I block the first downwards hit and twirl behind it, allowing for Marcurio to –

A Firebolt slams into the Falmer warrior, and I hit the floor in an attempt to dodge the shower of burning, bloody, disgusting gore that follows and rains down on my head and my shoulders, dripping down my hair and ears in small, stinking pieces of flesh and bone – okay, Ew with a capital E this is FUCKING DISGUSTING.

UGH!

I stand up shakily, giving the junior mage a fierce glare and wiping my face with the back of my hand. "Thanks, J'zargo, for reminding me that I need a bath." A small piece of charred flesh slowly starts to slide down my forehead towards my sporadically twitching eye and I shudder in horror, expression twisting into a grimace as the smell of charred meat, ashes, and unwashed Falmer overpowers everything else.

The Khajit at least pretends to look apologetic. "J'zargo is unused to working with close combatants. This one will seek to rectify that from here on." I would nod at him, but I'm not sure how much Falmer remains will drip down my face if I do. We move on, a new urgency in our movements as we pass yet another dead body – a researcher, this time.

Together, we face some more Falmer patrols, and every time I'm the one playing the distraction whilst the mages charge their spells, resulting in blood and gore getting all the way in my eyes, mouth and even up my nose.

…When that happens, I freeze for all of two seconds before snorting and puking my guts out next to a pillar, spluttering and coughing and more than happy to accept the tissues Onmund keeps conjuring out of nowhere.

Maybe he actually conjures them, for all I care to concern myself with that.

Eventually, we stumble across another tunnel, and I hear Marcurio caution the other two against more possible Chaurus. I feel dirty, disgusting, the taste in my mouth is puke mixed with blood and burned flesh and it makes me want to vomit even more, the scents of death and bodily fluids are clogging my nose, and I'm dripping with blood and bits of charred remains, as well as pieces of ice.

…I'm NEVER working together with multiple inexperienced, panicky mages EVER again.

A major part of me just wants to turn around and forget about the Staff of Magnus – I don't even know what they think they'll need it for other than to control that orb. A single magical ball can't bring about that much trouble, can it?

But alas, I gave my word, and so we press on in single file through the narrow, dark tunnel, J'zargo taking up the rear, Onmund in front of him, both at a respectable distance from me, and in front of me walks Marcurio, who follows the Dwemer sphere. I have no idea what happened to the other Animunculi. I don't want to know.

…

The first Falmer camp is dealt with without much issue, aside from Onmund nearly falling flat on his back dodging a hostile spell from the magic-using Falmer.

The second camp, after we spot it through a few thin slits J'zargo proceeds to try and fire a spell through is a mild chaos since the Khajit mage misses his target and alerts the vindictive Falmer.

Once they're down, general observations find me seeing both Marcurio and Onmund got hit by arrows. Marcurio's only grazed him and got stuck in his robes. Onmund… wasn't so lucky. I kneel next to the teen, already cutting away at his robes to find the place where the arrow pierced his arm.

My favourite Imperial in all of Tamriel casts Candlelight to make the process of removing it easier.

"Straight through. Marcurio, keep a lookout for more trouble. J'zargo – in my knapsack, there's red bottles. Healing potions. Get me two whilst I remove this." I look Onmund dead in the eye. "I won't lie. This will hurt."

He's pale, biting his bottom lip with a pained grimace even though he doesn't even peep. The arrow went straight through the outer part of his arm – luckily, Falmer arrows are made to pierce, not stick, so when I brace after breaking off the top of the shaft I already know it'll come out without further tearing the muscle.

"Alright, on three. J'zargo, give him the potion right after. One -"

I pull harshly, and this time the Nord lets out a cry before his voice is muffled by the potion being shoved down his throat. "The other one, too. Onmund, are you still with us?" The blonde nods weakly several times before J'zargo and I haul him back onto his feet. The potions are already working – the bleeding is stopping. "You're going to have to keep up for now." I grimly tell him, and something like steel shifts in the blonde's eyes. "I won't hold us back."

I exchange a glance with J'zargo, who nods – he'll keep an eye out for his partner in crime.

A/N: So, next chapter, upping the rating to M. If you feel like this chapter already deserves that title, PLEASE alert me to it and I will change the rating as soon as I am able to do so. I've no wish to violate any guidelines here. That said, see you next week!