Chapter LV – Secrets of the Dwarves

"Divines, they are really attacking innocent people in the streets."

Aeyrin shook her head incredulously when they closed the temple's door behind them.

"Uh-uh. That's not what we're talking about now. That's old news anyway," Bishop shook his head at her instantly.

What? What did he want to talk about, after what they had just witnessed?

Aeyrin gave him a questioning look, but before she could ask, he already posed his own questions with surprising eagerness.

"You went in there. What were you doing there? What's going on inside?"

She couldn't help but burst out laughing at the questions. Was he really that interested in that inner sanctum stuff? She certainly had other things on her mind right after seeing that stabbed woman. Then again, Bishop did want to stay away from all these issues with the Forsworn. It was understandable that he quickly steered the conversation elsewhere.

Besides, it wasn't as if she was not dying to tell him about that strange luxurious bathing chamber in a temple of all places. But first, she couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease him a little.

"Ah, are you worried that they wanted to teach me their Dibellan ways? Don't be. It was just a small orgy. I didn't even get to participate much," she smirked at him teasingly.

"Very funny," Bishop rolled his eyes at her. "It better be a joke, princess," he growled at her and suddenly his hand landed on her buttocks with a light smack. He didn't retrieve the hand, however, and instead he used it to yank her into his embrace with a possessive squeeze. She was sure that he wasn't really worried about her being serious, but he still couldn't help but react this way.

"You don't get to be jealous when you were getting pawed at by a pretty priestess," she snorted at him. She was just joking around… kind of. She still couldn't help being a little insecure about it, silly as it was.

"Hmm… yeah, she was pretty," instead of refuting the claims, Bishop smirked at her maliciously.

"Hey!" Aeyrin punched him in his chest in retaliation with a pouty look on her face. That really didn't make her feel any better.

He only laughed at her while he squeezed her to himself more firmly. His hand kept kneading her asscheek while the other tangled in her hair, making a fist, before he dipped her head back to look her in the eyes. "What? You had your little orgy. What have you got to pout about?"

He enjoyed the sight of her pouting face for a brief longer before he leaned his head down to give her a quick but thorough kiss.

"Hmm… I'd much rather have a different priestess paw all over me," he snickered at her, but it only earned an annoyed groan out of her.

"I'm not a priestess."

"Who says I was talking about you?" That earned him another firm punch into his pecs, but he was still only laughing in response.

"Come on now, love. Some boring healing could hardly match your magic fingers," he murmured in her ear before he gently nipped at the tip of it. "Now tell me, what is going on in that damn place?"

He was really curious about that, apparently. The years of rumors and whispered secrets among the citizens of Markarth must have really grabbed his attention. There was no reason to frustrate him any longer though, especially since Aeyrin was pretty eager to share the information herself.

"There was… a bath house… I think. There were all these tubs with people in them and the priestesses kept hovering around and massaging people and… bringing them food. I don't think that was the inner sanctum though. There were a lot of other doors there," Aeyrin lowered her voice conspiratorially, almost subconsciously, as she reiterated the story.

"'Bath house'? Seriously? In a temple?" Bishop's eyes roamed over the temple building critically. "Sounds more like some fancy brothel. I wonder what goes on in those other rooms," he grinned at her with a sly wink.

"Well…" Aeyrin bit her lower lip with a barely subdued giggle. "The priestess told me that they offer a lot of services to people. The massages, some 'beauty treatments', whatever that means and… 'other means of relaxation'," she gave him a meaningful look at that. Not that it mattered, of course, the priestesses could provide whatever services they wanted. It was just a little strange, given how used she was to priests abstaining from anything like that. Maybe the temple of Dibella in Anvil was the same and she just didn't know about it.

Bishop snorted at that with an amused smile. That pretty much spoke for itself. It was obvious that the priestesses just acted as high-society courtesans – the decorations in the temple were pretty telling. They wouldn't get that much wealth from healing alone, even an expensive one, right?

"Wait… why were you going in there?" Bishop narrowed his eyes at her after a second.

"The priestess didn't like my clothes. She said she had something to show me so I followed her. They had these down there. It's what they use for travelling around. She offered to sell them to me, because apparently I should be exemplifying Dibella's teachings," Aeyrin chuckled a little. "I mean… I don't know. They're pretty good quality. And I like them… I know it's stupid to pay so much for it…"

She lowered her head in shame for a bit. It didn't seem like that much, but after the healing costs, she found out that she had spent over eight hundred septims in a temple. That was almost a half of a small house or something. Even a horse would be cheaper. The priestesses were really used to a different clientele, it seemed.

Instead of agreeing, Bishop fisted his hand in her hair again and tilted her head back before he met her lips in another deep hungry kiss. "You look so fucking good, princess," he murmured in her ear when he parted from her for a second, but he captured her lips once more almost instantly. "I'm gonna be distracted constantly," he smirked. "Can't wait to take those off you."

Aeyrin giggled lightly at his antics. How could he always claim to like her clothes for the purpose of taking them off?

"Still… it was really expensive…" she sighed a little with a wry smile on her face.

"Yeah, well, you had the money, right? I've spent mine on stupider things," Bishop shrugged. His entire share of the bounty was gone, and for what? Barrels-worth of alcohol and getting Ambarys out of prison. Those were pretty much the only things that he had spent it on, now that he thought about it. It was kind of depressing. Aeyrin had been a little shocked when he told her that had no money left from the bounty but, lucky for him, she didn't question him on what he had spent it on. He would have really not relished telling her about how he was just roaming Skyrim, getting shitfaced wherever he could to take his mind off her. Not that it ever worked…

"Well, since I am still broke as fuck, how about we go get some money now?" he smirked at her before he inclined his head towards the Understone Keep.

With some luck, Calcelmo would pay them enough for the loot so that he wouldn't have to worry about money for quite some time.

…

"Ah. It's you again," Calcelmo briefly looked the two of them over when they appeared by his research station. He didn't keep looking at them for long, however, as he turned right back towards a thick tome opened on his desk. Unsurprisingly, he was entranced in his research again, but this time he was alone at the station without his apprentice's help.

"Are you here for another enchantment?" the wizard mumbled without even sparing them a glance. "I don't suppose you're here to tell me that you've explored another Dwemer city." His tone was both wistful and defeated as he said that and, with a weary sigh, he flipped the page of his book.

"Actually, that is why we're here," Aeyrin smirked at the man smugly before she slumped her heavy pack down onto the ground, letting the loud clanking of all the metal inside accentuate her point. They've been lugging all this loot for so long now, ever since Mzulft. Finally they would be able to get rid of it for a good price.

The wizard's head immediately snapped towards them and he forgot his book entirely. His eyes brightened considerably and he rushed the few steps over to her with palpable eagerness.

"My dear, you are a marvel!" he clasped his hands together in excitement. "Which city did you explore? Did you go through the entire thing again? And did you bring me anything?"

"He's like a little kid," Bishop couldn't help but laugh at the mage's antics. He'd never seen a centuries-old Altmer act like this. He was pretty sure that the man was seconds away from bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"There weren't many opportunities for excitement here lately," Calcelmo let out a brief sigh before his eyes turned towards Aeyrin again with a hopeful glimmer in them.

"It's not that impressive this time… we didn't really do much. But we did bring you treasures," she beamed at him. "Do you want to wait for your apprentice?" She wondered where the young man was before she would start to tell Calcelmo about their excursion to Mzulft. The apprentice had been very interested in her last recounting too. Even though he was working through the entire thing, it was still obvious that he was paying rapt attention.

"Ah, the fool boy has left me here to visit some friends in Solitude. Apparently he needed some time to 'recuperate'," Calcelmo made mocking air-quotes with his fingers while he rolled his eyes. Has that man worked the poor apprentice to the bone already?

"'Recuperate'?" Aeyrin gave him a questioning look.

"Yes, yes, he got himself attacked by one of those savages," Calcelmo sighed. "Kitchen worker jumped him in the hallway. I, of course, trained the boy enough that he would defend himself from any such attempts, so he was unhurt. He got jumpy on me though. Can't have my apprentice handling dangerous magical components when he's jumpy," he grumbled morosely.

"He got attacked by a Forsworn? Inside the Keep?!" Aeyrin's eyes went wide at the mage instantly while Bishop's annoyed groan already echoed from behind her. They could apparently not escape this topic, no matter where they went. And he could already see that Aeyrin was getting more and more interested in all of this.

"Oh yes, many people have. But he is fine and this is not the important thing right now," the Altmer waved his hand at her dismissively. At least he didn't want to discuss this shit.

"Now let us not waste more time on frivolous things. Tell me everything about your expedition."

…

"So the fabled Oculory truly works? That is astonishing," Calcelmo gasped in unbridled excitement. He was yet again sitting on his chair with his notebook and quill firmly in hand, taking meticulous notes.

Aeyrin was sitting on the ground in front of him, telling him all about their adventure in Mzulft, well… almost 'all', while Bishop was sat beside her, rummaging around their packs and pulling out the Dwemer treasures, one by one. He carefully placed them all onto the floor for Calcelmo to examine later.

"But what did the mages at the College want found with it?" the wizard pondered deeply while his fingers scratched his chin.

"Ah… uhh… well…" Aeyrin tried to come up with something to tell him. Was the 'crazy Thalmor' narrative also the best approach when it came to Calcelmo? But before she could make up her mind, the mage interrupted her with a brief chuckle.

"Say no more. The mages have sent you to find some dangerous artifact and they swore you to secrecy, is that it?"

"S-sort of…" Aeyrin only shrugged with a nervous laugh. It wasn't exactly wrong, and Calcelmo seemed to have a good idea about how reckless the mages up north could get with their ancient artifacts. She wondered if he had heard the rumors from Winterhold, but it didn't seem like it. Either those haven't made it all the way to the Reach yet, or the same thing as always happens happened – the story got changed, blown out of proportions and altered over and over until nothing of the truth was left.

"I would expect nothing else from them," Calcelmo smirked before his pondering expression returned. "Though it hardly concerns my studies. Was there anything else of interest in Mzulft? Did the Synod mages let you examine any other devices?"

"Well… there really weren't any… almost. That's actually something that we wanted to ask you about," Aeyrin nodded at him thoughtfully. "There was a broken machine and it looked exactly like the one that I described to you last time, do you remember?"

"Yes, of course. The entrance to Blackreach. The one in Mzulft was broken?" Calcelmo looked at her in disappointment, but that didn't stop both Bishop and Aeyrin from perking up. He did know about Blackreach.

"The Synod mages said so. Do you think that the one in Raldbthar was broken too, from the description? There didn't seem to be any actual… entrance…" Aeyrin asked him uncertainly.

"I do not believe so, but if I understand the varied accounts correctly, it is no ordinary entrance. The mechanism is supposed to reveal a hidden access hallway or a stairwell which would lead toward the actual entrance. My guess is retracting stone tiles of the floor or a nearby wall," the wizard tapped his finger on his cheek in deep thought for a while.

That made sense. The mechanism alone looked nothing like any real 'entrance'. This was a much more plausible explanation.

"So how does it open?" Bishop asked him with a palpably hopeful tone in his voice.

"That is the question for the ages, isn't it?" Calcelmo smirked at him. "According to the records, Blackreach is an enormous underground complex that used to serve as a crossroads between the major cities in the Skyrim territory. Each city had this entrance, all fitted with a universal key of some kind. You have described to me some sort of spherical slot. This, I believe, should fit the key. So it would be some sort of a small mechanical sphere. But no such thing has ever been located, to my knowledge. It is a shame, really. Imagine what explorers, scholars and adventurers could do with the key. It could be studied and reproduced so that it would be available to anyone. Everyone could explore numerous cities easily, even some parts that are not accessible from the surface. We could learn so much."

So much for that. The answer was still the same – they needed the key.

"So nobody has any idea where this key could be?" Aeyrin asked, unable to hide the disappointment from her voice.

"Unfortunately, no. Not that I know of. What I wouldn't give to have the key to study it myself," Calcelmo sighed wistfully. "If I could replicate the key, I could send in expeditions, have them wipe out the Falmer and have scholars explore all that has been left behind by the Dwemer. The progress to the evolution of our society, to our technology, could be immense. We could learn so much about the lost mechanism, we could apply them to our own structures and means of production and protection. Our progress would jump centuries ahead, erasing all the damages done by wars and natural disasters."

He may have been a little too idealistic, but… it was quite the picture that he was painting. Even if he was only half-right, locating this key could benefit everyone in unimaginable ways. How could people like Arniel Gane dismiss the Dwemer technologies so readily, just because their creators were no longer around? There were still ways to benefit from their knowledge with people like Calcelmo around.

"But excuse my ramblings. There is no point in dreaming without the actual device. For now, I have to content myself with brave adventurers like you two, who are daring enough to explore the ruins all the way from the surface. Along with the efforts of the Synod mages, I suppose," he chuckled a little.

"Now, let's see what the mages have let you take from the ruins. It is a shame that their notes have been only given to the College… there is no one there who would make use of the research in a way that I could, but… at least I know about their expedition. I can still contact them and ask for a copy of their notes myself. And, in the meantime, these treasures will sate my curiosity," he nodded appreciatively at the small mechanisms and pieces of metal scattered around the ground.

"I'm sure that we can work out a deal about these items. One that will be beneficial for all of us."

…

As disappointing as the news from Calcelmo had been, at least the pay was good.

Bishop and Aeyrin received several hundred gold pieces from the man for the Dwemer treasures and they promptly split it between themselves equally. They'd talked before about pooling their funds, but this seemed easier for the cases when they had to split up and go on their separate missions. Otherwise they would have to spend time allocating some money to one another beforehand, not to mention the trouble that could ensue once something unexpected happened. Like getting kidnapped by assassins or bandits.

The two of them headed straight towards the smithy under the temple. Their armors needed tending for quite some time now, and since they had enough money for that and any supplies that they might need, they decided to get this out of the way. After all, it was for the best to have the Orc smith and her apprentice work on their armors since they were the ones to make them in the first place. And Bishop was still convinced that they would eventually get chased out of the city by one of the Silver-Bloods' schemes, so the sooner they did this, the better.

So eventually, they ended up hanging around the forge idly while the two smiths worked on their respective armors.

It was almost dusk again. Their stay at the temple and their talk with Calcelmo took a little longer than they had anticipated and now they had killed even more hours by that forge. At least the smiths were almost done, but it was certain now that they would have to stay in Markarth for the night. The shops would close soon and they had yet to get their travelling supplies. That would have to wait for tomorrow.

"What are they doing?" Aeyrin interrupted Bishop in his mindless boredom as she pointed down the stream flowing under the forge, towards where the Warrens were.

There was a large group of people there, all dressed in the tell-tale furs and feathers of Forsworn garbs. All of them were huddled into two rows and they were all joined by thick chains, dangling between them from their hands.

"New prisoners for the mine, I guess," Bishop shrugged noncommittally. He'd never seen them being brought in like that, but he expected that this was a common occurrence in Markarth. How else would they get enough prisoners to run the mine? From what he had heard, Cidhna Mine was enormous.

"There are so many…" Aeyrin whispered. There were at least twenty Forsworn being ushered along the cliffs by a group of guards. Bishop had told her about the mine, but she still never imagined large groups like these being hauled in at once. Maybe one or two stragglers that the guards have caught attacking someone in the city or scouting alone in the wilderness. This seemed like a result of some large skirmish. As the Forsworn walked closer to reach the bridge across the stream, right under the forge, she could see that some of them were covered in mud and blood, and some were even limping.

When the prisoners reached the bridge, she still couldn't help but watch them. Some of them could obviously feel her eyes on them and they promptly looked up. One or two Forsworn gave her a vicious hateful sneer, but another particular one had caught her attention instead.

He didn't sneer and he didn't avert his eyes. He looked at her with brief surprise before his expression turned back to his previous one – in spite of his situation, he looked proud and determined. He looked like he was convinced that he would not spend the rest of his life toiling in the mine for the Silver-Bloods.

Aeyrin knew him. She didn't remember the name, but she recognized his face.

It was that man whom she had met near that noblewoman's estate. He was Robin's friend. Or clansman at least.

Were all of these people caught in the same battle? Were all of these people from Cael's tribe? She wasn't sure, but some of their faces seemed vaguely familiar, although when she was at Cael's camp, she didn't really pay much attention to the other people there. It was hard to tell.

"They're just… gonna keep them in the mine?" she shook her head incredulously as the Forsworn were still passing below them, along with the guards. "Don't the prisoners get… I don't know… traded for their prisoners?" Wasn't that what usually happened to prisoners of war? None of them got locked up like this forever, did they? Not in the civil war, at least, as far as she knew. "Aren't they worried that the Forsworn will try to free them? What if these attacks happen for this reason?"

"Sweetness, leave it be," Bishop let out an exasperated sigh. There she was, reasoning away the Forsworn attacks. Why she was so intent on seeing them as anything but barbarians throwing their lives away pointlessly was beyond Bishop. And what was there to do about it anyway? Join their little doomed rebellion? The Stormcloaks weren't able to take a single Hold from the Empire for ages, why would the Forsworn think that they could? And even if they did manage to tear Markarth from the Empire's grasp, the Stormcloaks would be right on their doorstep to take it for themselves from the weakened barbarians anyway. The tribes weren't even unified, from what Aeyrin had said after her visit to the encampment. It would have been so much easier for them to just live in their camps and villages and leave the people of Skyrim alone. It was not like anyone would even remember them if they weren't provoking anyone. They weren't even enslaved and they didn't even have to follow the Nords' rules and customs in their little camps. Why were they fighting for some stupid land that they didn't have the numbers to fill anyway?

"I… I know… I was just…" Aeyrin sighed, but before she could continue, Bishop interrupted her.

"What do you think that the Forsworn do with their prisoners? Return them to Markarth? You hear all kinds of stories about soldiers mutilated in some weird magical rituals that those freaks do. You already know that they attack whoever crosses their path, and you find this shocking?" he snorted at her.

Aeyrin couldn't really argue with that. He wasn't wrong.

Still, it felt odd to see that man there. They fought side by side, they managed to reach some agreement between each other and they managed to prevent more bloodshed and conflict. And after the way Cael and Robin had helped her, it was still hard to imagine them taking part in these atrocities.

But she should know better. It was naïve to judge them only by the warm welcome that she had received. If she wasn't the Dragonborn, they would have surely let her be captured by Thongvor's associates and dragged to Thorn without a second thought.

Silent, Aeyrin merely watched the Forsworn march into the mine somberly.

The familiar Forsworn didn't spare her even another glance as he marched along with the others, determined to face his fate.

With this happening, she couldn't imagine that there would be any end to this conflict anytime soon, along with the attacks in the city.

…

Aeyrin and Bishop spent their evening at the Silver-Blood Inn, intent on getting their supplies in the morning and leaving Markarth to its own devices.

The tavern was bustling with rumors that night – everyone had nothing but the day's attack in the market on their lips. With everyone gossiping, Aeyrin couldn't help but ask the barmaid about the details, but she didn't really learn anything new. One of the Forsworn who was working in the city, presumed to have abandoned their 'savage ways', had suddenly attacked a random Imperial woman in the market. She wasn't even a citizen of Markarth – she was just a traveler visiting the city.

Much to Bishop's relief, that was the extent of Aeyrin's prodding and they spent the rest of the evening without any further discussion on the subject. There was not much to discuss anymore anyway.

The next day, they set off for the market right after breakfast.

They spent some time at the pawnshop before they headed along the stream towards the Keep so that they could make their way to the apothecary. But they only managed to pass one house before somebody approached them.

It was a Nord man, clad in heavy steel armor, clearly reinforced with bright, light quicksilver plates. He had dark hair and a stony expression on his face as he stepped towards them and stopped only a hair's breadth away from Aeyrin.

"You. I have a message for you," he scowled at her briefly before he started to rummage around a pouch on his belt.

"For me? From who?" Aeyrin asked before he could find what he was looking for.

The man pulled out a note from his pouch and he handed it to her with the same stony expression as the words left his lips: "From the Silver-Bloods."

Aeyrin froze for a brief second as the back of her neck started to burn. But… it was just a message. They could still run away right this second if it was anything sinister. She reached out for the note and Bishop quickly positioned himself over her shoulder to read the contents alongside her.

.

Do not think that your presence here has escaped my notice. I did make it clear that I know about everyone who enters my city.

If you value your life, stop meddling in Markarth's affairs. Nosiness doesn't pay, especially for someone like you, whose death actually does 'pay'.

Finish your business in the city quickly and leave. I will allow you to do as much. For now.

Thongvor Silver-Blood

.

"Do we understand each other?" the Nord's voice interrupted her as she stared at the letter.

Thongvor was threatening her. But… he would allow her to leave the city with no attempts on her life? That was… odd. Was there some reason why he was hesitant to collect that bounty?

Before she could answer that man or question him in any way, Bishop quickly interjected instead of her.

"Yeah. We're leaving right after we get our supplies."

Aeyrin threw him a somewhat accusing look, but he was obviously firmly adamant about his words. They were planning on leaving anyway. He knew that the note would rile her up, but there was no way in Oblivion that they would provoke Thongvor in any way.

"Good. Make sure you do," the Nord nodded at them before he turned on his heel and walked away from them briskly.

The second that the man was out of earshot, Aeyrin turned sharply towards Bishop with her eyes wide.

Here we go…

"Why doesn't he want me 'meddling'? Is this about the Forsworn? I was just asking about the attacks! Everyone is talking about them. What does Thongvor have to do with any of this?"

"Who cares, sweetness?! He's leaving things be, why can't you? There's nothing to do about any of this Forsworn crap. We don't even know most of it and we were going to leave anyway," Bishop groaned in palpable exasperation.

"But this is fishy! Why would he mind people meddling? Everybody knows that they're taking the Forsworn to the mines and that they attack the citizens, but there must be more to it if he…"

"So? Let there be more to it! Why do you care? It doesn't change anything. They're at war. Why would you want to involve yourself? How is this different from the fucking Stormcloaks? You're not taking sides there, why would you take sides here?" he interrupted her, scowling fiercely.

"I don't want to take sides. I just…"

"Yeah, you do. You had the Forsworn save your life while Thongvor tried to have you abducted and now you think that they're some poor misunderstood noble heroes. Well guess what? They're not. And if you're gonna get caught in the middle of this, you're going to be doing exactly what you're trying to avoid with the civil war. You're gonna be used for your skills to help them slaughter the Nords by scores. All for some stupid territory that nobody but them cares about."

Aeyrin looked at him for a while before she lowered her head. He wasn't wrong. Why was she still so prone to romanticize the Forsworn cause? They waged bloody war, just like the rest of them because they were not willing to concede in their demands.

And she and Bishop had so many enemies and so many problems to deal with already. Adding to that would only give them a lesser chance of survival and what good would their deaths do?

She had to concentrate on the things that she could help with. The things that they needed to take care of to protect themselves and anyone else they could.

"Y-yeah… you're right," she sighed in defeat. "Let's just… go get our supplies and get out of here."

Bishop stepped towards her with a relieved smile and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder gently. He planted a brief kiss at the top of her head before he started to usher them back towards the Keep.

"It's the best thing to do, love."