It took the general another hour to reach the War Quarter. He was not used to the sprawling tunnels of Red Mountain. The city states of Skyrim had been small and compact, here the fortress seemed to stretch on forever. Even the majesty of Blackreach seemed to be little compared to the greatest city of the Dwemer.
The gates of the War Quarter loomed in the tunnel up ahead, a towering construction of bronze and stone, marked by the plain red banners of the Council of Warriors and guarded by a group of ten warriors with armour and shields bearing red crests.
The soldiers quickly straightened up as Bahrma and his escort, a company of five Dwemer warriors, all still covered in black Dremora blood and their armour and weapons battered and worn, came closer, the captain of the guards quickly stepping aside.
"The Council are just down the corridor sir." The captain added as Bahrma walked past. "A stunning victory over the Kar-Din and the Daedra." he added with a large amount of respect obvious in his voice. "You truly are the best commander we have."
Bahrma turned back and gave the captain a smile. "I wouldn't say that." He replied modestly. "I'm only a strategist. Cuolec the Red is a true warrior."
The captain shrugged. "The rumour at the moment is you were fighting Dremora bare handed while Cuolec was looting the Kar-Din's baggage train. Me and the men know exactly who the real hero there is."
Bahrma grinned as he approached the huge golden doors to the council chambers, but that smile died as he saw Cuolec standing by those same doors, a small group of armoured Riders of Dahaka swathed in dark brown cloaks standing by him.
"Leave us." Bahrma said firmly, at both his own men and the soldiers accompanying Cuolec.
The two groups did so, his own men instantly, while the cavalrymen took a second before marching loudly away. Cuolec turned to Bahrma once the others had left.
"Let's see what these tired old men want, General." He said with a slight grin as the two men opened the doors and stepped inside.
The chamber that the Council of Warriors sat in was, like most Dwemer constructions, perfectly square, the ten members of the council all sat around the square stone table at the centre. The council, made up of some of the finest old warriors and commanders in their entire race, bowed slightly as Bahrma and Cuolec approached, their sets of ornate armour, elaborate cloaks and flowing grey hair and, in the case of the male members, elegantly curled beards, gave off an air of wisdom and centuries of experience.
"General Bahrma." Said one of the council members, a tall Dwemer man garbed in red robes and ceremonial scaled armour. "We are glad to hear of your victory over the unexpected Daedra attack. We were crossing the Tonal Bridges as the first reports of Dremora came in. It is troubling to see Mehrunes Dagon sending his forces against us using our own technologies. Now we must turn to the matter at hand. Did you have any problems to bring before us before we carry on?"
The general nodded, giving an aside look at Cuolec. "Yes. Although I am grateful to him for his role in driving off the Dremora horde, I would like to bring this council's attention to the fact that Commander Cuolec disobeyed orders and, instead of pulling his cavalry back, overran the enemy lines and attacked their baggage train- no doubt in search of loot. This is after I had sent out orders calling for all divisions to return to base. Perhaps if the commander had followed orders the Dremora would have been broken before Lord Kagrenac's arrival."
The council members began nodding until Cuolec shook his head, a genial smile crossing his scarred features.
"I'm sorry council members- I truly am. But can we just remind ourselves of a simple fact that our dear general may have missed? He told us to retreat. Just as our forces were poised to wipe out the Kar-Din hordes. Now the few that escaped the Dremora will be stumbling back to their fellows and preparing another attack as we speak! You see, in Clan Rourken at least, we know how to deal with our enemies-swiftly and mercilessly. Need I remind you of the Battle of the Al'ikr, the Day of Red Sands, the years when we aided our cousins from Skyrim in the War of the Crag? The Rourken Clan embody every one of the elements of a true warrior, and sometimes, yes, we get a bit ahead of ourselves. But I was not, as some have suggested, merely attacking the enemy baggage train. I was chasing down the remnants of one of our oldest foes, whose ancestors attempted to stop our expansion across all of Tamriel! Now I am a warrior at heart but, unfortunately, it appears our general is not…"
Bahrma's eyes widened at Cuolec's words, and he saw many of the council members frown at the commander's audacity, but they let him continue regardless.
"You see, he is an excellent strategist and general, yes, but he does not understand the true fire and passion that all warriors possess. He is a native of Skyrim. Those warring city states preferred to hide in their mountain strongholds and let the Nords and Snow Elves run rampant on the surface. We of Clan Rourken do not. Speak to the natives of Hammerfell that we took prisoner in our last battle. Is it any wonder that the demons of their myths and legends are golden armoured warriors? Long story short, honourable council members, I…"
"Enough!" the council cried out in unison, frowns and grimaces plastered across their aged faces as one of them, an elegant Dwemer woman garbed in a loose red cloak with a brooch of pure Aetherium, stood up, her voice echoing across the chamber as she spoke.
"Remember your place Commander Cuolec! I am also of Clan Rourken and yes, the fires of war pulse through my blood as well, but I do not use it as an excuse for poor judgement. You will obey your commander's orders to the letter, or be stripped of your rank. Understand? Now, can we get to the real reason for this meeting?"
Cuolec bowed stiffly, but Bahrma could see the commander's look of rage, which was quickly gone as soon as he straightened up again and the councilwoman spoke again.
"Now firstly, since you appear to have some need of letting out your 'warrior urges' Commander Cuolec, we have a task for someone of your talents. For a few days our scouts have been tracking a small group of remnants from the Imperial army we destroyed when our forces first came to Tamriel. They are led by a veteran, General Tullius, as our prisoners call him. But there are also others leading the force of two hundred or so Legion troops. A Breton warrior who leads the Imperial's spy and saboteur divisions, the so called 'Blades' and a Nord woman, supposedly outfitted in armour made of dragon bones, and bearing the fabled Spellbreaker shield of Clan Rourken. We need you to take your men, and an additional two thousand cavalry from those reinforcements that crossed over the Tonal Bridges, and ride after them."
Cuolec nodded, but there was a look of confusion on his face. "You want over two thousand of the finest cavalry in Tamriel to chase down a few refugees?"
The councilwoman nodded briskly. "The refugees are a priority because of the Spellbreaker this Nord in Dragonbone armour bears. The Tonal Architects have pored over much of this world's writings on the Daedra and found that the Spellbreaker is now an artefact of the Daedric Prince Peryite. The High Queen wishes to possess it. Of course, someone of your…talents…is not some errand boy. Send a detachment of your men after the refugees yes, but your orders are more suited to you and your Riders."
Bahrma saw a smile cross Cuolec's face, and he knew that whatever was said next could not be good.
"We want you to set the island of Vvardenfell ablaze."
It was at this point that the scarred Dwemer soldier laughed, a sharp and harsh bark like that of a wolf cornering its prey, and he continued grinning from ear to ear as the councilwoman continued.
"We want every bit of farmland put to the torch, every scrap of resistance wiped out, every civilian sent back to Red Mountain in chains."
It was at this point that the general had heard enough. "I'm sorry honourable councilmembers but I must protest…"
The councilwoman waved an arm dismissively. "Your protest has been noted general, and denied. We need to draw out the Dunmer and Imperial forces still on the island of Vvardenfell. On the open field they are little more than an annoyance. Cowering behind their walls and in their fortresses, we can pick them off one by one. But if they were to unite, that's when we would have a problem. And nothing is more guaranteed to stop them uniting than forcing them to act as soon as possible with no time to prepare. Make the arrangements." She added, and Cuolec bowed and left the room, his laughs echoing outside as the doors were slammed shut.
"I am sorry general." The councilwoman said, but there was little regret in her eyes. "But if we want a quick victory we have to force their hand. Surely you don't want your men to die in vain?"
Bahrma gritted his teeth, but forced himself to look the council members in the eye. "What is it you wish me to do while Cuolec rampages across the countryside?"
Another council member spoke now, a broad chested but elderly warrior, his face marked by old battle scars.
"Now that the Tonal Bridge is built and we can freely move troops and supplies into Red Mountain from the Daedric realms, the High Queen has ordered us to ready our forces for a full invasion of all of Tamriel. There are other plans in place for our people of course. This war is not entirely one of conquest." He added darkly. "But until we have readied our armies, we may be prey to more attacks, either by the Daedra or the inhabitants of Tamriel. To that end we need you to oversee the construction of a new ring of fortresses and watchtowers around the base of Red Mountain."
"You brought me here to do the work of an Engineer?" Bahrma asked in a low tone. He was not one who took having his time wasted lightly.
"As we said to Commander Cuolec." The councilman replied evenly. "Remember your place. You may report to the Council of Masters but we still have command over you. The High Queen herself requested that you oversee this work. She trusts you above all others with the defence of Red Mountain."
The general grudgingly bowed.
"See to it General." The council said in unison as Bahrma stepped out of the room, and the doors closed shut with a metallic slam.
000000
Night was falling over Red Mountain as the general staggered back to his chambers, exhausted. The entire day he had been overseeing the building of the new defences, riding all around the base of the mountain and watching as the Dwemer Engineers constructed walls and towers atop the rocky bluffs and sandy plains. Now he was eager to actually get some rest. He had removed his armour already and was now dressed in a flowing red robe, his bare feet slapping on the smooth stone floor.
The guard at the door to his chambers saluted as he approached and Bahrma returned the gesture wearily, pushing open the golden doors and stepping into his spacious, well-furnished chambers. Instantly he felt two small figures grab hold of his legs, hugging them tightly, and he smiled as he looked down upon his children.
His son Mithra, a small but energetic young boy, and his daughter Peris, his older sister, inheritor of her mother's beauty, clung to him tightly as Bahrma laughed, overdramatically dragging his legs as he walked across the room, his children letting go as they reached the doorway to the main dining room. From a corner scuttled their faithful pet Saluki, an elegant golden Spider automaton the two children had built themselves, under their mother's careful teaching, rubbing its cold metal form against Bahrma's leg, and he patted the small spider absently. He was surprised how lifelike it was, even though its body was metal and its heart a simple dynamo core.
"We heard about the battle, father!" Mithra declared loudly as Saluki scampered around the boy. "Captain Rashnu said that you killed a Dremora with your bare hands!"
Bahrma grinned. "You shouldn't believe everything that old man tells you. It was actually two…" he added with a sly wink and Mithra frowned.
"As if!" he declared loudly and Bahrma was glad to see a smile cross Peris' features. Unlike her brother, who had remained cheery and optimistic for the entirety of their imprisonment by the Daedra, Peris had been hugely affected by the horrors of the Daedra. She hadn't spoken to anyone since the nightmares that had plagued all the Dwemer in Vaermina's Land Without Rest. Bahrma hoped that she would open up now that they were safe from those evil beings.
"How are you finding your new home then?" Bahrma asked, squatting down so he was on the same level as Peris and Mithra.
"Amazing!" Mithra declared happily. "Captain Rashnu took us on a tour of it this afternoon. It's so much bigger than our old house back in Alftand. Warmer too…" he added with a grin.
"Well I was only a regular soldier back then. Now I'm a general there are certain…perks."
"At least there's none of those freaky Falmer here."
Bahrma laughed but inside he still felt the same guilt from years back. In Alftand, before the betrayal of the Snow Elves, he had had many friends amongst the refugee Falmer. Seeing them reduced to crazed savages in days ,and hearing from the Nord captives of the legends of the pale men who stole people away in the night, was still a dark spot upon his soul-even if his fellows didn't share that guilt.
"No." he agreed, smiling weakly. "Now, it's late and you must have plenty more exploring to do in the morning. Peris, get you and your brother ready for bed." He added, looking over at his daughter, who nervously twirled the hem of her small white robe around her fingers, but nodded slowly and led Mithra away.
As his children disappeared into their room, closing the bronze door behind them, Bahrma gave Saluki one last affectionate pat before it scuttled into the corner and powered down.
Alone at last, he was just making his way to his bedroom door when he heard a familiar voice say from behind him.
"Aren't you forgetting someone?"
He was about to turn when he felt a warm set of hands touching his shoulders, and instantly recognised the soft touch of his wife, Inanna. He felt her short curled black hair on his back, and she kissed him lightly on the nape of the neck before he turned to face her.
Inanna had to look up to see into Bahrma's eyes. He had always joked she was the reason that the Giant's had called their race 'Dwarves' all those Eras ago, but her slight frame and pretty face did little to disguise her intelligence and ingenuity. Currently she was still dressed in the banded gold armour and purple robes of a Tonal Architect but, as she led him by the hand to their bedroom, she was undoing the delicate clasps on her amour, letting it fall to the floor as they sat on the end of the bed.
"I heard about the Dremora." She said in a low voice, a deep sense of sympathy behind her words. "I'm...I'm sorry if my colleagues had any part in it."
Bahrma shrugged. "It was nothing but a problem with the calculations I bet. Lord Kagrenac may be arrogant and rude, but he knows exactly what he is doing. I would face down all the monsters of Oblivion if it meant getting you and the children safely out of that hellish place."
Inanna smiled. "We're here now though. And it has been a long day I can tell you! First there was the problem with the Tonal Bridges, then it turned out our coordinates for the Convector Spheres was off. By the time we had recalibrated those…" she said as she removed the golden headpiece from her hair, allowing her hair to billow out over her shoulders freely. "We had to completely reboot the whole of our backup Tonal Resonation systems and… you don't understand a word I'm saying do you?"
Bahrma shrugged noncommittally. "I'm a warrior, not a Tonal Architect."
Inanna frowned in mock annoyance. "If only you weren't as dim as a drunken Chimer…sorry, Dunmer." She corrected herself. "This new world is so strange."
"At least there's no Daedra here." Bahrma said with a grin as his wife began removing her robe, letting the purple material pool across the stone floor as the two of them lay on the bed by each other.
Lying there across from his wife, who was clad in nothing but her prized Aetherium necklace, Bahrma let himself finally relax for the first time in days, letting out a deep sigh as he quickly pulled off his own robe and threw it off the bed. As he did so a small spider automaton scuttled out from a vent across the room, ignoring the naked couple embracing on the bed and stacking the clothes in a small pile on a nearby table before leaping back into the hatch.
"Classy place we have here." Inanna said with a smile as she pressed into Bahrma's broad chest, then flinched as she saw the patchwork of red bruises and small cuts across his body.
"What have those ~Daedric monsters done to you? Do I need to get the healing potions from the other room?"
The general sighed before saying. "It's nothing. I guess I just need to sleep it off."
His wife nodded. "A shame. I was looking forward to having a little 'reunion'. But you need to sleep."
Raising her hands she clapped twice and the lights in the room dimmed, the two Dwemer nestling together, Bahrma pulling the blanket over them as he kept an arm around Inanna's slight form, and he drifted off to sleep.
Bahrma opened his eyes and found himself inside a huge cave, lit by countless green Dwemer 'Infinite candles' and blue bioluminescent mushrooms.
"Blackreach." He said softly, knowing at once that he was dreaming. It felt like forever since he had last looked out on this place.
He stood up from the rocky ground, dislodging a small avalanche of pebbles as he went and began climbing a small hill. Why, he didn't know, but something at the back of his mind told him to.
When he looked out over the city of Blackreach beyond, he felt a stab of fear course through him like poison.
Beyond him the city of Blackreach, one of the greatest cities of the Dwemer, was a crumbling ruin. The once elegant sprawl of square houses and domed towers was now covered in crumbling rock falls and the ugly purple forms of what could only be Falmer dens. The city's high walls and strong towers, once impenetrable to countless hordes of crazed Falmer, were now falling to pieces, while the huge artificial sun that had once lit the whole cavern at the very centre lay cracked and broken on its side.
As he looked out, he became aware of two figures standing behind him and he turned, putting his hand to where his sword belt would be, but then finding he was dressed in the ragged robes of a prisoner, heavy chains and manacles on his hands and feet.
The two figures stared at him, metres away and, as he looked closer, he recognised one of them.
It was High Queen Anihata. Her armour was battered and there were countless small cuts and wounds across her pale skin and her hair was in disarray, but she stood before him still, a glittering golden sword with what looked like a miniature sun in the pommel in one hand, a strange white shield that crackled with arcane energy and looked vaguely familiar to Bahrma, in the other. She held out her hand to him, dropping the strange golden sword, her expression one of pain.
The other figure however was a direct contrast. Clad in thick armour that could only be made out of Dragonbones, the figure wielded a black bladed curved sword in one hand, his face obscured by a towering horned helmet. And, just like the apparition of the High Queen before him, this strange figure held out his hand to him.
"What do you want from me?" Bahrma demanded of the two figures, trying to reach for them both, but finding his hands would only let him go in one direction. He would have to choose.
Then the scene melted away and he was falling through a black void, the guttural laughter of Dremora echoing in his ears.