For almost twelve hours the tracker scuttled and ran through the terrain of Skyrim only to come to rest at the Lone Mountain in Whiterun hold. The ancient Dwemer machine could feel that it was getting close to its prey but its master told it to hide when the sun came up. And so it sat solemnly in the shade of some boulders around the mountain. Though most citizens of Skyrim would say that machines can't think, scholars would disagree with them for it had been recorded that Dwemer made machines could actually process any language and was a tool at precisional thinking.
And that was exactly what the tracker did as it sat in the bushes and rubble of the rocky tundra. It thought of its task at hand and thought of its target. Or more of, the different ways that it would kill its target and the best way to draw out the battle to maximum effiency. Its arms twitched in anticipation, its joints and bolts squeaking slightly in the other wise silent air. A dragonfly buzzed around the golden face of the tracker, a quick motion of one of the hammer arms sent it flying away.
Yes, if machines could be thought as living creatures, this Dwemer machine would certainly be one. It found most things a nuisance: insects, water, and the catches in its master's commands. If only it could continue on its path to its target. Its entire body seemed to shiver and shake at the want and need for battle. It had been centuries since its armor and weapons had last tasted blood…
It was back, hundreds of years ago when the snow elves had been pushed into the subterrenean world with the Dwemer. The Falmer had been seeking refuge from Ysgramor and his army and the only people that could truly protect them were the dwarves. The tracker had been in the middle of construction at that time but it still awed the snow elves as they entered the great Dwemer city.
Since it had not been fully assembled and there wasn't a soul gem to make it fully operational, the tracker could not remember the words that the Dwemer and Falmer had spoken amongst each other. But it could remember, years later, that the Falmer had been enslaved by the Dwemer and they were being used as servants and as test subjects. The tracker's first soul gem had even reeked of the smell of the Falmer and it tasted even worse.
But at that time, the Dwemer didn't care about the snow elves; they just saw the Falmer as an unending supply of fodder for their machinations. Until they rebelled. It was about a decade after the Falmer had moved underground with the Dwemer and the tracker could remember the screams and shouts from its cage. It was still fueled by its first soul gem but it still felt strong and powerful from the old gem.
"Ready for your first taste of blood?" The tracker's Dwemer master had asked it. The dark bearded elf stood in front of the machine's cage, starting to unlock the puzzling latch that kept it closed. The tracker nodded its large golden head, its arms starting to twitch in anticipation. Its master smirked as he undid the last latch. An explosion sounded down the long hallway, screams of both Falmer and Dwemer echoing through the stone.
"Slaughter the vermin who rebel against their masters," The Dwemer man said as he opened the tracker's door. With unnaturual speed, the machine shot out of the cage and down the hall to the where the explosions and screams could be heard. The black soul gem in its chest seemed to pulse quickly with excitement, its arms twitching in sweet anticipation.
The screams were getting louder as the tracker neared the end of the hall, a set of closed doors barring its path. With a quick swing of one of its hammer arms, it busted open the golden doors, its metal face looking upon an open rebellion. Falmer slaves dressed in dirty rags attacked clean robed Dwemer, along with the more armored and battle ready Dwemer guards. Screams filled the great open cavern but everyone seemed to stop and stare at the great Dwemer machine as it let out a long bout of steam from its pipes. And with unnatural speed, the machine charged into the mob.
Its first victim was a Falmer woman, her scream filling the now silent cavern as one of the tracker's hammers came down on her. There was a disgusting squishing sound as the large mallet crushed the woman. The rest of the Falmer screamed in horror and scrambled to get away as the tracker attacked another Falmer, this time its saw blade cutting him in half at the torso. The crimson blood of the pale servants coated the machine's weapons and armor, making its lust for battle even stronger.
Another scream of steam was released from its pipes as it quickly skittered to a group of retreating Falmer. It swung out with a hammer, striking one of the rebels and snapping its spine from the blow. With another swing of its hammer, it knocked over the remaining three, quickly trampling them with its spindly spider legs. It seemed to relish the feeling of the warm blood but a sudden "thunk" called it out of its bliss. Turning only its torso, the tracker turned to face a Falmer who had a handful of rocks, a horrified look on his face as the machine charged forward. The white elf threw up his hands to cover his face as the tracker reared back on its hind legs, stabbing its other legs into the elf. With one quick motion, it spread it legs and tore the rebel into pieces, dropping back down onto all eight legs.
It scanned its surroundings, the open courtyard filled with a few dead bodies and a few Dwemer guards, but no Falmer servants in sight. The machine knew that they were probably running through the tunnels, trying to hide from their attacker. But the machine's master had told it to kill all of the rebels and that was what it had intended to do it. With a short bout of steam, the tracker took off towards the nearest tunnel, scrambling through the tight hallway. Above the noise of its legs pounding against the sculpted stone, it could hear the voices of the rebel servants in a room to its right.
The machine stopped at a set of golden doors, noticing that they were cracked open slightly. With a gentle nudge of with one of its legs, the golden gates opened up, revealing a storeroom. Pipes ran through the walls and part of the flooring, casting dark shadows in the room. Dark enough for even the palest of creatures to hide in. With cautious steps, the tracker stepped into the storeroom, its arms twitching with anticipation. As it crept into the center of the room, the doors closed behind it, two rebel Falmer standing in front of it. It quickly swiveled its torso around to face the rebels, noticing both holding dwarven swords.
The tracker took a step forward to deal with the servants but a sudden whack against its back made it turn again, its hammer arm hitting a Falmer in the face. The servant flew back against a pipe, his body bending back and snapping in several places. But the tracker didn't have any time to relish in the attack as the two Falmer by the door lounged at it. With quick reflexes, it raised its two back legs, the spidery appendages peircing both Falmer through the chest. A shudder racked the machine's body as their blood coated the legs, the soul gem in its chest glowing brightly. With a simple flick of its legs, it tossed the dead bodies away, scanning the rest of the room with its stoic face.
Noting that there were no other living Falmer left in that room, it quickly left, skittering down the hall in search for its next victims. The machine quickly traveled down the hall and into a small courtyard, a fountain sitting in the center of it. Three halls split off from the minituare rest area, the metal face looking at each one before choosing the right hall. The hall led the machine down a flight of stairs to a large open area, stone bunks filling the space and each one filled with a sleeping Falmer. The machine stepped forward but stopped. The sleeping Falmer didn't look like the ones who were rebelling and knew that its master would be upset for killing non-rebels. With a steamy sigh, it backed out of the room and back up the stairs, taking the center hall.
This one led the tracker to a set of golden doors. This time a simple nudge of its leg didn't make the doors open, giving the tracker the thought of them being barricaded closed, which could only mean one thing. With a mighty swing, it broke the doors down, stone chairs falling away with the doors. And standing before the tracker were the rest of the Falmer rebels, each armed with a spear and shield. If it could smirk, the machine surely would as it took a step forward, the servants trembling in fear. With mighty bout of steam, the tracker charged forward and plowed through the spears.
The machine swung its axe blades, severing limbs and heads from the rebels. Screams filled the air as many of the rebels fell to the floor, the eyes glazing over with death. Crimson blood splattered across the grey stone and the golden machine, staining the clothes of the remaining rebels. The tracker took a few steps back from the remaining Falmer, sensing its Dwemer master approaching. It sat in the center of the room and waited as the dwarf entered the room, looking at its machine then at the remaining servants.
"What are you waiting for?" The dwarf asked, looking up at the machine's metal face. "Show these vermin that the Dwemer are not to be trifled with." With a solemn nod, the tracker charged forward, the Falmer screaming out in terror…
A sudden roar from above the tracker's head snapped it out of its reverie. With a silent squeak of its metallic parts, it turned its head to see a dragon flying across the sky. The tracker knew all too well that it could easily dispatch of the beast if it so desired but that wasn't a part of its master's orders. If night had fallen, maybe the machine would have attacked the dragon but not while it still had several more hours of daylight. No, it would sit there and wait until its hunt could continue.