Chapter Forty-Seven:
Elder Knowledge
My first impressions of Blackreach were of its enthralling beauty. An ethereal glow emanated from the giant fungi that populated it, as well as the specks of what looked like glow dust, although I was sure it was not. I could see a dark and towering structure in the distance that appeared to dominate the valley beneath the mountains, and had probably been a stronghold of sorts for the Dwemer years before.
But then the captivation faded, and I was forced to focus on the here and now. Dwarven spheres relentlessly struck a great bronze door not fifty feet away from us. Hiemdall hurried to the ballistae nearby and fired the ancient bolt, destroying the dual machinations. My curiosity peaked as to why they were deliberately attacking the structure of their masters.
We did not immediately begin that investigation; once we had realized the sheer scope of Blackreach, we decided it would be best to split up and then meet at the far end. Javin and Aldren decided to join me so we could look into the structure the spheres were attacking.
Aldren opened the door, and only when he was satisfied we weren't walking into an ambush did he allow Javin and I inside. The ruined Dwemer building had been small on the outside, and the inside was no different. It appeared to be a quaint hovel, and anything within that wasn't of Dwemer make was possibly nearly two centuries old. The blanket on the bed on the left was rotted and would surely fall apart if one lifted it; the books were full of mites and dust, and the pages were incomprehensible; the foodstuffs that had been stored on the Dwemer shelves were nothing more than squishy puddles of rot. Only the ingredients for alchemy, stored delicately on the shelves on the rightmost stone countertop, were intact.
That, and the skeleton.
Aldren and I examined the body while Javin practically broke a hip skipping over to the ingredients. The body had two Dwemer arrows stuck within its ribs, red with ancient blood, and no doubt shot from either the dwelling Falmer or the spheres that had been attacking the doors. But if its body had already deteriorated, how long were the Dwarven spheres fighting to enter?
A journal was clutched in its body fingertips. Aldren toyed with the arrows while I gingerly took the journal. As soon as I did, its hands crumpled, some bones in its fingers falling off altogether. I shivered inwardly and then took the journal over to the door so I could read.
"Skeleton's long," Aldren noted. "Must be an Altmer."
"The name in the journal seems to suggest that, too," I added. "His name was 'Sinderion'. It's dated 'Fourth Era 58, Second Seed'."
"Sinderion?" Aldren paused. "I know that name. Back when I lived in Cyrodiil, during the Oblivion Crisis. He was an alchemist of some renown."
"Clearly," Javin said, gesturing to the piles of ingredients. "Now while I'm here, I think I ought to make a few more health potions and salves. Ones for my magicka, too. And maybe some of that green stuff for the boys."
I shook my head, and began to read.
"I've spent a large portion of my life unravelling the mystery of the nirnroot and yet I still feel unfulfilled. The trilling sound this strange herb emits seems to taunt me, to push me even harder to discover its secrets. Even after a generous and indomitable traveller became a field collector in my stead, and provided me with five score of the nirnroot, I was only able to muster what I consider a mediocre alchemical creation at best. This only served to strengthen my hunger and whet my appetite for the solution.
"It wasn't until over fifty years later that the answer to my prayers was carried into my basement workshop at the West Weald Inn. The first thing I heard was the familiar tone—that unmistakable warble unique to the nirnroot. But when I turned around, my heart leapt and a chill ran down my spine. This was indeed a nirnroot, but of a variety the likes of which I have never seen. The herb was awash in a spectacular array of red hues, each leaf seemingly emblazoned with innumerable variations of crimson. I couldn't move—I was completely transfixed. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined a species of nirnroot with such a unique property.
"After an awkward silence, I finally managed to stammer out a few questions to the traveller who'd brought me this treasure. He told me his name was Obeth Arnesian, a treasure-seeker from Skyrim. Apparently, he'd been exploring a vast subterranean network of grand caverns called Blackreach and had stumbled across what he dismissed as 'a noisy red weed'. His expedition was largely unsuccessful and he didn't want to leave the caves empty-handed, so Obeth picked one of the crimson nirnroot to bring home. He said that it took some time, but eventually he was pointed my way and that perhaps I'd pay a fair price for it.
"Before I could gather my wits and ask anything else, Obeth offered to sell me the crimson nirnroot sample, a map showing me how to find Blackreach and a strange key needed to breach its outer defences. It took me mere moments to decide. Obeth left Skingrad a thousand septims richer, but I would have easily paid ten times that amount the obtain the sample alone.
"It took a year of planning, but I was able to pack up and sell my workshop and make my way into Skyrim. Before delving headfirst into Blackreach, I knew I needed to set up a new laboratory, but wished to do so in seclusion. After making inquiries at the College of Winterhold, of which I was an honorary member, I was directed to speak to Avrusa Sarethi, a student of botanical alchemy who had a small farm near the city of Riften. By bartering my knowledge of nirnroot cultivation, I was able to secure Sarethi Farm as a launching point for my field research. I kept the knowledge of the crimson nirnroot a secret from Avrusa, but imparted everything else I knew to her in exchange for her hospitality.
"A few months passed, but I was finally ready to enter Blackreach. I used the Runed Lexicon that Obeth had provided and descended into the depths. My goal was to gather enough crimson nirnroot to produce my greatest alchemical creation to date—I was certain it would take at least thirty of them to provide the necessary catalyst.
"This brings me to the present. My initial research seems to indicate that the crimson nirnroot has a similar affinity for moisture as the garden variety, but also maintains some sort of symbiotic relationship with the enormous fungi that inhabits Blackreach. It's my guess that the fungi itself is a source of water, absorbing it from the moist subterranean air like a sponge. This provides the ideal environment for the nirnroot to grow. Unfortunately, the crimson nirnroot appears to have a vastly shortened lifespan, and they are in no way plentiful down here. Gathering thirty of them will be quite the challenge, but hopefully the denizens of Blackreach will allow me to gather my samples unhindered."
I shook my head and stored the journal away. If I knew my names right, Avrusa Sarethi was a Dunmer, so she'd likely still be alive and want to know the fate of Sinderion. She'd possibly even pay well for the crimson nirnroot. I could already see Javin carefully placing Sinderion's initial sample from Obeth into his bag, and there was a lingering in his eyes that made me think he wanted to find more.
All I knew was that I would have a headache from the constant ebbed humming of the root.
We left the hovel with fuller packs (mostly because Javin didn't have a lot of room left for those ingredients and the potions he'd whipped up) and continued through Blackreach. Javin would wander off to collect the underground nirnroot whenever he fancied, but he kept a close eye on Aldren and I. Aldren once spotted a Falmer resting lazily at the bottom of an underground staircase and hardly thought twice before leaping at it and sinking his twin daggers into either side of its neck. But then some sort of a giant egg sac behind him exploded, showering him with sticky green goo as a flying monster charged at him. I shot a well-placed arrow in its head, narrowly missing Aldren's foot. He glared at me.
Aldren and I kept to the road while Javin continued looking for the noisy things, and we made sure to steer clear of the Dwarven Centurion stationed near a small lake. And then we had to put some arrows in the heads of some Falmer patrolling above us on Dwemer ruins, but that caused some attention to get focused on us, and the next thing we knew we were in dire combat with a wispmother and her dual wisps. Once she'd been taken care of, Aldren and I had to dig into our packs for some healing potions and potions for our stamina to stem our exhaustion. It wasn't a moment later that Javin returned to us and grabbed some ingredients off of the dead pile of ethereal stuff that used to be the wispmother. Aldren and I could only shake our heads at that.
And then the fortress came into view. Aldren and I took to stealth and killed the few men and mer down there that hobbled along like the Falmer, and so the Falmer ignored them. Whether they were simply mad or for some strange reason were worshipping the underground elves, I had no idea. But they were armed, and clearly appeared to be a threat. The Falmer, however, noticed their disappearance, and Aldren and I were forced to fight them head-on.
Some Falmer fell back to try and catch us with arrows. I raised the Targe to defend myself from them, my arm jerking whenever an arrow connected, and raised Dragonbane, hoping the lightning would startle them. It worked, giving me enough time to charge towards the farthest Falmer and kill them to stop their onslaught of arrows. And then a Falmer leapt at me, sword raised, and I did the first thing that popped into my head:
"Fus Ro Dah!"
The Falmer screeched as it was propelled upwards and into a gigantic, glowing orb suspended from the roof of the cavern. The subterranean elf's body made a mighty clanking sound against the orb and then crashed hard into the ground. The Falmer attacking us suddenly halted and stared up at the ceiling. I hesitated, but Aldren did not, and he killed three more before a loud, deafening roar exploded throughout Blackreach. I had to cover my ears it was that intense.
Then the Falmer began to panic, but by then it was too late. A Dragon propelled itself off of one of the mighty towers of the fortress and dove, scooping up three Falmer in its jaws before flying off. Aldren and I only just managed to leap out of the way. The remaining Falmer scattered for shelter and safety as fast as they could scurry.
"What in Sithis' name is a bloody Dragon doing here?!" Aldren exclaimed, spinning his daggers.
"I don't know, but I have a feeling he's a bit large to leave now!" I rose to my feet and adjusted the Targe, as well as Dragonbane. "Hurry! Before he takes a snap at us!"
Aldren and I charged out from the fortress to see the Dragon on the path outside its main entrance gobbling up the remains of the Falmer. When it spotted us, it growled deep and thunderous. And like I had with Mirmulnir and Sahloknir, I found I knew this Dragon's name too: Vulthuryol.
Rather than waste time speaking, its maw opened and unleashed a burst of flame at us. I raised my shield and charged forward, shouting in hopes to expel the fiery pain in my arm, and then slid under Vulthuryol's belly. Aldren managed to get onto his back, and while the Dragon bucked and thrashed, it was clear he wouldn't be taking off again. There simply wasn't enough room. I had to be careful of the sharp metallic bronze scales at his sides, but began jabbing both Dragonbane and the Targe of the Blooded into its soft flesh. Vulthuryol roared and flipped himself onto his back. Aldren only barely made it off before being crushed.
I leapt to my feet and jumped on top of Vulthuryol, onto his belly. Aldren followed suite, and we began mercilessly hacking at the Dragon, blood spurting from him as he weakened and tried to right himself. But it was too late for him. He pitiably whined his death throes. It was the least I could do to make the last of it quick for him.
Another friend gone... I sighed, and then realized what I'd just thought and shook my head. Woah. Wait. What?
"Greystone!" I looked up from the burning remains of Vulthuryol to see Aldren, and he was pointing to a well-lit tower not too far off. "I think that's our destination. Based on where the Tower of Mzark was on the map to Alftand, and the amount of walking we've done here, I'm willing to bet that's our goal for the Elder Scroll."
"You're sure?" I asked him, ignoring my lapse in thought.
He nodded. "If we wait there, the Redguard will eventually find us, and he can send up a beacon for the others."
I shook my head at him. "Yeah, and all the other denizens of Blackreach." I motioned for him to follow as I began to trek there. "Come on. We ought to wait for them. They'll see us soon enough."
Everyone had taken so long getting to us that Aldren and I had literally made a fire out of the fungi around Blackreach to keep warm (it wasn't a big thing for Aldren, but some of us happened to have our hearts beating and blood running through our veins, and to those people warmth mattered). Javin was overjoyed when he discovered Cha'qim had also gone around picking the crimson nirnroot, and from how giddy the old Redguard was, I assumed he had his collection of thirty.
So we put out our pathetic fire and made for the Tower of Mzark. Inside the tower was a lift, and we all piled inside, a sense of relief echoing through us once the doors of Blackreach were shut. To be perfectly honest, it gave me the creeps, and I was overjoyed to be out.
The lift climbed upwards until it reached a spacious room that may have been used as a research area in the past. I found my eyes settling on the abandoned camp at the centre. The bedroll was years old, but the ingredients within the pots still fresh (Javin had already plucked them from the pots).
As soon as we opened the next set of double-doors, we were suddenly awed and taken aback. Our sights were met with a mighty bronze sphere decorated with blue-green jewels of various sizes, but even the smallest was at least three or four times the size of Milos' head. We turned to the left to follow around the sphere, and quickly found a spiralling ramp bringing us upward. With a clear view of the ceiling, we could see the same colour crystals hanging above. A platform lay not far from our position, but around the sphere was many small tables and chairs, and piles of rotted and useless books atop them. Cha'qim led me up to the platform, the two warriors trailing behind us whilst Javin and Aldren began examining the books.
Cha'qim grabbed the square cube she'd been given by Septimus and placed it in a slot that fit it. Four buttons and a map-like control-thingy between them appeared to light up, although only two (the closest buttons to the cube) revealed their buttons. When I turned to the catkin, she merely shrugged.
"What's the worst that could happen? Buttons are fun!" she exclaimed.
I rolled my eyes and focused on the panels. When I pressed the first button, nothing happened. So I moved on to the next. I pressed it four times, the sphere and its crystals adjusting to a new position each time, before the third of the four buttons opened. I moved onto that and pressed it three times, moving the mirror-like crystals above the sphere, until the fourth and final button revealed itself. So I pressed it. Once was all it took.
A diamond-like crystal the width of Hiemdall's arms (if he held them out as if to size for clothing) slowly lowered itself above the middle of the sphere, twisting until it was horizontal rather than vertical. We approached it cautiously, Cha'qim grabbing the now glowing cube as we went. And then, slowly, as if an eternity had passed, the crystal opened and revealed a glowing, jewel-encrusted scroll.
An Elder Scroll.
We stood there in awe for several minutes, marvelling at it. Such a treasure so far from the Imperial City was unheard of, and yet here it was before us. I slowly reached out to take it, but Milos took my hand and pulled it away. I looked at him questioningly.
"We don't know if there's a trap," he explained. "I'll take it."
I bit my lip, but allowed him to. The Argonian reached out and took it swiftly, halting only to listen for the sounds of bolts or Dwemer machines that never came. We breathed a sigh of relief, and while I knew that we all wanted to look at the scroll's contents, we didn't have time for any more gaping.
I took the Elder Scroll from Milos and gingerly placed it within my pack. Then I looked up and grinned. "Well, get your coats on. We're off to see the Greybeards."
They all smiled (save for Aldren), and then we made for the exit underneath the platform that would take us back to Skyrim.