The moons of Masser and Secunda hovered over the land of Tamriel. Far above the mountains of Haafingar lay Wolfskull cave. It has been twelve years since the Dragonborn cleansed it of its necrophilic inhabitants. It is now nothing more than a glorified little fort in a dark and gloomy cave. Nothing had changed since then. That is until the new arrivals came into this world.

Outside, strange chainmail fences guarded the perimeter, the all metal poles of mage light illuminating the wilderness beyond. More molted-clothed foreigners patrolled around the area, keeping a keen eye for any intruders. Some were stationed above wooden tower constructs, peering through their two-lensed scope. More of these green-colored metal horseless carriages aligned themselves along the rock wall. Their eyes were not glowing nor did their bodies growl. The bodies of dead bandits lay crumpled in the ditch far outside, large gaping holes on their chests and back.

Tsahari stared in wonder at the brightly-lit cavern entrance, full of strange sights and sounds to behold. The same unbelievably complex symbols for a language were plastered everywhere. It was on the walls, boxes, banners; almost anything owned by these beings were marked with them. A rather large metal pole stood out, carrying a flag of the color red. One large golden star was sewn on the top left corner with four smaller stars surrounding it. It waved in the air like a declaration of might. The foreigners left through the door first, alerting everyone else about their new guest. Tsahari strangled with the confounded thin rope, struggling to free herself. Looking carefully, she found a large red button on the side of what held the flat rope together. She pressed it; a satisfying click came out as the thin rope magically recoiled back into the carriage wall. Pausing, Tsahari took a moment to examine the craftsmanship of it, staring in bewilderment how well made these stitches were. And the material felt strange. She hesitated to take a sample, seeing that her actions would anger these foreigners. She wouldn't want to fall victim of their thunder staffs. Climbing out of the iron carriage, many of these foreigners stared at Tsahari with their eyes wide and their mouths open. They firmly grasped their weapons, as if believing her to be some kind of vicious monster. Worriedly, Tsahari had forgotten that these other foreigners had never seen her before. Before things get out of control, the three foreigners yelled at them in their tonal language, assuring everyone that she was harmless. Looking at each other, they were suspicious of Tsahari. She was used to this attitude everywhere in Skyrim. Some of them took out silver-colored instruments and pointed at Tsahari, bright lights and mechanical clicks drowning her senses. Flattening her ears, Tsahari covered her eyes in annoyance. They kept repeating the same phrase or word "mao", as if to imitate the sound her ancient ancestors used to make. The three foreigners escorted her back into the horseless carriage and drove off into the mouth of the foreigner occupied cavern.

Continuously calling the three foreigners was tiresome and the Khajiit decided to distinguish them by temporary number names. The one who introduced her to their incomprehensible language was "One." The one who recovered from his injuries was "Two". The last one would be called "Three", predictably. In front of her, One and Two constantly communicated with the daedric-like voice installed in the front of the carriage. The Khajiit wondered for what reason they would do such a thing, first on their person then in the horseless carriage. A thought of realization struck her. It might be a communication devise to talk with their people. How else would the very carriage be able to find them outside? Especially when it came after One spoke to the black box of his. Such instruments would be invaluable for day-to-day lives and even times of war. No longer would generals and commanders rely on slow scouts and messengers. Replies would be almost instantaneous. The Khajiit wondered what lies in store ahead of her; what secrets of magics these foreigners hold. Tsahari looked through the thick window, observing activities outside. Other foreigners walked to and fro, carrying more mysterious instruments in a variety of colors. The cavern wall seemed to have been blown through to make way for more of their construction. Long black ropes align the walls everywhere, connecting to every mage-light that hanged from the ceiling.

At last they came to a clearing. What remains of the fort was converted to something purely unnatural. The Khajiit stared in wide-eyed awe as they drove slowly along the area. Black lines of all sizes were strewn about, connecting to every bit of machinery these foreigners had. Tsahari recognized some of their wares, like a table, or a chair, but everything else was completely alien to her. Large boxes of unknown purposes, big like a wardrobe or small like an anvil, were absolutely everywhere, being guarded by more foreigners not of molted-cloth, but of white robes. But what really catches the eye of the Khajiit was the massive construct that was built on the highest tower. A large metal projected a purplish hue that radiated outwards. A large wide ramp was raised to lead anything out the portal to make it safely on the other side. More of these metal horseless carriages rolled through the portal. Some were exactly the ones that Tsahari rode on, but others were absolutely massive by comparison. One even had large barrel protruding from its top. The metal monstrosity casually rumbled across the ramp with some people guiding it. What really amazes Tsahari was the fact that it was moving by itself. The thing looked as if it weighs hundreds if not thousands of pounds. Unfortunately for the Khajiit, a wall blocking her view cut her excitement short. But her enthusiasm for these foreigners grew and grew as they explored deeper into the compound.

They came to an abrupt stop somewhere within the facility. The Khajiit lurched forward before being slammed back on her seat, much to her fright. Looking around, Tsahari found more of these foreigners, and they look none too pleased. From the look of things, they look well armed with more of these thunder staffs. Sighing, One and Two left the carriage and went to talk to these guards. Three stayed behind to keep watch on the Khajiit. Tsahari was anxious over her situation, but she tried to ease her tension by thinking of happy thoughts. Like how her father used to teach her a simple mage light spell. Smiling at the memories, Tsahari looked up to see the foreigners' mage lights being placed on the ceiling. She noticed that this time they were tubes of some kind, but it was far too bright for her to see clearly.

Suddenly, the door she sat next to lurched open. One and Two stood next to her and quickly beckoned Tsahari to follow them. The Khajiit remembered to press the red button to release her rope constraint. She hopped off the carriage and landed on the ground with her feet in a light thump. Three followed close behind as he closed the door of the carriage. Dozens of foreigners at the walls of this cave room kept a close eye on her, as if Tsahari was a prisoner or a criminal. She knew all too well that her appearance could startle many who have never seen the desert walkers of Elsweyr. Coming to an impossibly smooth door, One opened it for her to enter. She had to squint her eyes for how unnaturally bright the room actually was. Tsahari found herself in a brightly lit room with two chairs and a table. One chair was unoccupied while the other sat a High-Elf-Breton with different clothing unlike the rest. She recognized it as something of a formal wear. His wear was bluish black with gold trimmings. On his left chest was absolutely dominated with metal of striking colors. He sat with his hands together on the table; acting like he was expecting her. One closed the door behind her, leaving Tsahari alone to the mercy of these other foreigners. Four guards wearing the same molted clothing stood at each corner, watching her every move. Tsahari glanced around nervously as she waited for their response. The sooner she was out of here, the better.