The upcoming expedition was starting to get kind of exciting.
Bishop and Aeyrin hadn't gone on a proper dungeon delving ever since their time in Hjaalmarch when they were killing the days, waiting for their Brotherhood trap to spring. Bishop had been incapacitated ever since then, but it seemed like Colette's treatment did make things better. He regained a lot of his mobility and precision, though he was surprisingly dutiful about not straining his arm too much yet. He likely didn't want to prolong this ordeal a second longer.
By now, he wasn't even teasing and interrupting Aeyrin when she continued the treatment.
After three days spent at the College, they finally left. According to Colette, it wouldn't take longer than five days for Bishop to fully recover, unless he got wounded again, so they decided to start making preparations for their Dwemer adventures already.
First of all, they needed to stock up on supplies. Really stock up.
They had no idea how long they could be stuck underground without other opportunities and they were determined to disregard the funds and buy as many supplies as they could. Who cared if it cost them all they had? They would take as many treasures back from the depths as possible. Surely without the key, nobody had a chance to plunder the crossroads yet.
They discussed where to stock up for a while. Winterhold wasn't exactly ideal for restocking, since it was mostly a glorified village outside of the College. And the College goods were all needlessly expensive. They expected to splurge, but they didn't have to be stupid about it.
From the nearby options, their best bets were Windhelm again or Morthal.
In the end, the two of them agreed on Morthal. They were in Windhelm very recently and besides, it was a pretty good idea to take the northern paths around Alftand itself to check out the surroundings and their best approach. Besides, in Morthal, they would likely not be delayed or tempted to drink their night away with some welcoming elves.
They really did spend almost all their money in the town. They bought a ton of rations, counting on the fact that they might not be able to cook anything for a while, they bought plenty of healing and magicka potions, soul gems to recharge their weapons, and they had their equipment properly checked and fixed up at the forge.
They were all set and the next day, after spending a calm evening at the Moorside Inn again, they headed out to the northern shores to camp in the wilderness until they went inside the ruins. Much to Aeyrin's dismay, Bishop said that the cold felt better on his arm. It made sense. Natural Nordic regeneration was known to do better in colder environments. It was still an unwelcoming prospect for her though.
But Bishop did promise to warm her up anytime she needed.
And she did take him up on that offer a lot.
In the end, they spent four more days traveling around the shores of the Sea of Ghosts – leaving them with plenty of time for Bishop's full recovery. They slept in various caverns around, both to retain some warmth through the night and to stay in a different place each day for security's sake.
The last day they agreed to spend outside, before they finally delved deep beneath the earth, they camped right next to Alftand – up on a glacier with golden domes peeking from below inside an enormous crevice in the earth. The ruins of the ancient city lay right there, almost hidden by all the ice and snow around them.
Despite the freezing cold, it was rather nice. They hunted some horkers during the day – even Aeyrin managed to hunt those – and so they had very good dinner prospects for days to come. It was a welcome change after all those rabbits before. And Bishop's arm felt completely back to its original state by now. He was looking forward to utilizing it with his bow soon.
But until then, he was content enough having it wrapped around Aeyrin as they huddled together under a blanket near their campfire. The night was cloudy, but the northern lights still peeked through the dark shadows, reflecting their myriad of colors on the calm sea on the horizon.
It was a beautiful night. Perfect for their last sights of the moons for a while.
"This is nice," Aeyrin let out a content sigh as she watched the lights play on the distant water. They didn't tend to spend much time out in the open at nights in the northern regions, but the College excavations had left behind some things that made this possible. Such as a few wooden platforms on the snow, perfect for pitching a tent and staving off the cold ground. "I almost don't want to leave here and go down below," she smirked.
"Really? You're not freezing?" Bishop chuckled. She hadn't been shivering as much as she often did up north, especially in the winter. Or maybe it was almost spring now. It was a few days into First Seed already. Time flew by so fast.
"Not really," she nuzzled herself into his embrace with a soft smile on her lips. The fire was near and warm, his embrace was heating up the rest of her and the delicious mulled wine sauce he had made for their horker steak left her with pleasantly warm cheeks as well. She hadn't felt this comfortable since the Moorside Inn. It didn't even matter that there was only the tent as a protection from the cold winds.
"Remember when we first went traveling through the Rift together?" Bishop mused as he began to rake his fingers through her hair idly. "You were practically begging me so that we try and take a shot at a Dwemer ruin. And now you'd rather stay in the cold out here? What happened to you?" he chuckled.
"First of all, I didn't 'beg'," Aeyrin scoffed back at him. Sure, she had been really excited about the prospect. There were no Dwemer ruins down in Cyrodiil and she had heard so much about them. But she definitely didn't beg. "And second, I'm excited. It's going to be amazing, to see something nobody else in… probably centuries, whole Eras, had seen. Even if it's a dark, bleak cave complex filled with nothing but Falmer. It's just… this is nice," she repeated. It was a lovely sendoff before their dungeon-delving.
"You think the Scroll is really gonna be there?" Bishop asked after a moment of comfortable silence. "That hermit was certainly wrong about finding that 'heart' of his in the vault. How would he even know about the Scroll?"
"I have no idea. He did know about the key though," Aeyrin shrugged.
True. The key was there behind the ice, just as promised. Maybe he was right about the Scroll too, even though it made no sense that he would have that knowledge.
"Well… if not, we'll find one somewhere," he let out a noncommittal grunt. It wasn't as if they had an actual plan for that Scroll yet anyway and Esbern didn't hear from the Moth Priests either. Not to mention Aeyrin's predicament. It might actually be better for them if they didn't find the Scroll, but he couldn't help a bit of curiosity. This was supposed to be a thing beyond all legends.
"Yeah." She couldn't find it in her to worry about that just then. Or worry about anything, really. She just wanted to enjoy the calm evening to the fullest. The ruins below were supposed to be empty, but there was always a possibility of things going awry. And it was a huge complex, according to the Orc. When they questioned him on it more as they were returning the books, he mentioned that it would probably take at least two days to get down to the bottom. And then, who knew how long they would have to spend in the darkness of Blackreach?
She just wanted to enjoy the lights for now.
Bishop leaned his head down towards her neck when silence enveloped the glaciers around them again, disturbed only by the distant crashing of the waves and the occasional call of a horker. He began to plant lazy kisses on her skin instead of talking any more. There was really no reason to waste the evening on words – they would have plenty of opportunities for those as they descended the empty ruins.
And despite what Aeyrin had claimed before, he was sure that she could always use more warming up.
…
Dwemer ruins looked surprisingly peaceful with their defenses down and with no lingering feeling of dread at every step.
Also with no Darren – the only 'disabled' ruins they had seen before had a dark cloud following them constantly. This place was quite different. It was eerily quiet in there. Their steps were creating a loud echo through the chambers, but fortunately, as they had promptly tested by throwing stray rocks at a spinning blades trap, all the defenses were really inert.
The first part of the ruins was mostly encased in the glacier. There was some equipment lying around – likely left behind by the College excursions. It wasn't anything of use, mostly just pickaxes and hammers and other various mining equipment, along with some bedrolls and lanterns. The purpose for it became clear soon enough when they reached a passage leading out of the icy cavern – there was a large Dwemer door there with chunks of ice lying around on the ground and several pickaxes lodged in the ice around it – the mages apparently needed to break the ice to get inside the complex proper. Bishop didn't miss an opportunity to quip about the flimsy mages handling pickaxes, but obviously they managed to breach inside in the end. He still wondered if they needed to use their spells to do it.
As they continued through the ancient city, they kept watching the pillars and wall carvings in the metal with palpable satisfaction – all the symbols on the lexicon were there to see. It only reassured them in going forward. Calcelmo was going to be so happy. And after what he had done for them, knowingly or not, he definitely deserved them going through Alftand for him. Not that it wasn't their best option anyway, but still, they could have used the lift at Raldbthar and spared themselves days of traipsing around the ruins. Then again, the Orc had mentioned that the Alftand lift wouldn't take anyone down and that it closed after a while. They went down with the Raldbthar one so they weren't sure why they couldn't use the lift here – maybe it was partially broken. But there was also the obstacle of the access bars closing anyway. Maybe the ones to Raldbthar would close at some point too. They hadn't been there in ages to check.
There was one disappointing thing about the ruins though. It was completely picked clean of any treasures, even of the common metal 'junk'. But they were sure to get their share down below.
It took a few hours, but they made it through the first part of the ruins. They came upon a College mage's body at some point with a journal stashed covertly in a bedroll next to it – it had all sorts of notes about the carvings and a sketch of a spiderlings automaton with combat-pertinent descriptions. They might have been useful to Calcelmo as well, even though it didn't sound like anything new to them, aside from some polemics on the cultural significance of the carvings. It was a good idea to take it anyway. With how much they spent on supplies, any extra money they could squeeze out of this expedition would come in handy.
When they finally passed several large chambers, a new and enormous one opened up in front of them when they entered another door.
It was a huge cavern with several towers on its edges and stone pathways between them leading down below. They couldn't even see the bottom.
"Fucking Void," Bishop gaped at the scene in front of them. "Where the fuck do we go first?" They should have tried to get a proper map at the College. Maybe someone had some plans of the place. They had just assumed that the Orc would have mentioned some if they had any, but now Bishop regretted not prodding. It wasn't just about going down until they reached the bottom and the entrance to Blackreach – they also needed to find the device that would inscribe the lexicon. It could be anywhere. The pathways were weaving and winding all over the place and there were four towers there to explore. The Orc wasn't kidding. This would take days.
"I don't know," Aeyrin's voice came out in a small gasp. It looked even bigger than the brief glimpse they got of the ruins below Markarth. "Clockwise through the towers and then below?" she suggested. It sounded like a good approach on how not to get lost.
Bishop nodded almost absentmindedly as he trained his eyes at something in the distance. There was something moving at one of the pathways. Creeping, more like.
A Falmer.
Fuck, they encountered one sooner than they had anticipated. Hopefully it was just a straggler and not an early sign of a new colony.
He grabbed his bow instantly and aimed at the creature. In his peripheral vision, he could see Aeyrin craning her neck, trying to see what he saw.
The Falmer was still moving, but he tried to predict where it would be when the arrow made its way there. He let it loose a second later, but just then, the creature stopped. The arrow was sure to miss now, and of course, he didn't even see where it landed. It certainly wasn't in the Falmer's head, as he had wished.
It must have been close though. He saw the creature jump in start. And, just as he was already notching another arrow, the Falmer faltered. It started to flail its arms wildly, but it was no use. Its shock made its stand waver and it only took a spell before it stumbled, falling off the edge of the pathway.
"Ha! Did you see that?" Bishop's laugh rang through the air. "I didn't even have to hit the fucker to kill it," he flexed his muscles proudly.
"You didn't hit it?" Aeyrin raised her brow at him. "Gods, how can you see that far?"
Granted, he didn't really see his arrow, but he knew where he aimed. But she didn't need to know that.
"I'm just that good, sweetness," he grinned at her.
Aeyrin only smirked back at him. She wasn't sure if she believed him – nobody could see that tiny arrow at that distance. But as long as that thing was dead, it didn't really matter.
"I just hope it was the first and the last we see," she sighed. "I really don't want to deal with another city full of those." Especially without her Shouts.
"Only one way to find out," Bishop shrugged. He was counting on some Falmer, but not too many. They were sure to have a lot of opposition in Blackreach alone. But the size of this place didn't exactly fill him with confidence.
Hours of wandering around ruins with nothing of use in them awaited them now.
…
They didn't expect this adventure to turn out so… boring.
Maybe the empty ruins were not such a great thing after all. Sure, they were safe, but once the initial fascination with the familiar carvings on the walls and pillars waned, and once their shock at the size of the complex subsided, there was only the tedium of walking left. It wasn't as if they weren't used to walking for long stretches of time, but at least usually when they did, they had beautiful nature and fresh air all around.
It wasn't so bad initially. The first tower they delved into was some sort of armory and forge. It was picked clean, of course. There were still some pieces of scrap metal lying around, but no weapons and armor. Not even molds. The tower was very tall though and they walked all the way down a winding pathway, exploring various side chambers, until they reached the bottom after a few hours. The heat of the forge was palpable before they did, even though it was completely inactive, the tower must have been deep enough beneath the earth for the lava in the forge to accumulate there only from some strategically dug up tunnels below. It was a bit concerning. Couldn't it overflow?
Since the entire tower was mostly empty, however, and since there was only one exit, they begrudgingly headed back up in an exhausting climb. And then there was nothing else to do but to head into the second tower clockwise.
That one was a lot different.
It looked like some sort of living quarters. Every side room had several beds, chests and armoires in them. It was convenient, given the fact that they had spent so much time in the ruins already, it was probably a good idea to eat and rest.
But much more striking about that place was the smell.
It permeated through the entire tower. It was awful. They were used to the smell of ancient death, or even rather freshly decomposing corpses. It wasn't pleasant, but it was something they had to be used to.
This smell was, however, a bit much. It instantly reminded Bishop of the corpse pit that Jules had been held in, or the one that Aeyrin had fallen into that one time. It was a mass grave. With very little heed to the upkeep. But it wasn't just that. There was some strange sickly sweetness mixed in with that too.
It was an ideal place to sleep, it had beds, even if they were just metal grated constructions with old mattresses on them, barely holding together, but there were also convenient fire pits in the rooms – they could have horker steaks instead of rations. And it was warm and quiet and it was definitely safer than camping up on the pathways. What if one of them rolled over the edge somehow? And the forge tower was really a bit too hot to camp in in comparison.
No, they needed to do this. They needed to get over the smell and get some rest here. Maybe they could beat it with the delicious scent of spiced horker loaves. Bishop had been trying to make them as good as those they had in Ivarstead and he was getting pretty close, judging from Aeyrin's reactions. Maybe it would beat the smell. Or maybe they would find the source and get rid of it. They needed to explore the entire tower first anyway to ensure their safety there.
It was mostly the same, except for the lack of the heat and the presence of the smell, but the more they descended, the worse it got. It was almost overwhelming at the bottom of the tower and whatever was creating it, it had nowhere else to be than behind one last metal door.
It wasn't just the smell. There were some very faint strange sounds coming from behind it.
It could only be another Falmer. What else would it be here? They knew what to expect by now.
Bishop drew his bow quickly and Aeyrin readied her mace and shield. They dropped their packs by the door, ready to take on the Falmer inside. The noise from their equipment shifting and their weapons getting unsheathed had definitely already alerted its sensitive ears.
The two of them wasted no more time. Bishop positioned himself a few steps away with his bow drawn and Aeyrin quickly opened the door.
Bishop's arrow flew rapidly, hitting whatever was lurking there. Of course it was a Falmer. And it wasn't just one of them. But more than anything, the horrible smell that came out even stronger when the door opened was becoming overwhelming. It made it hard to concentrate on what was going on.
Aeyrin's eyes watered instantly from the pungent smell, but she managed to spot the Falmer lunging at her under a haze of tears. She swung her mace almost blindly and she felt something trying to stab through the chainmail on her flank, but it didn't make it through. The next thing she could perceive was a sickening gurgle of the creature choking on its own blood.
Bishop had to be really careful. Aeyrin was kind of flailing around and the chaotic scene made it quite hard for him to aim, not to mention the initial shock from having his eyes water a bit as well. He was worried that he was going to hit her instead, but he could already see three more Falmer in the chamber ahead, despite the blurriness.
He tried to aim carefully, though Aeyrin's movements weren't getting any easier to avoid. She did seem to spot the next Falmer promptly though and she lunged herself at it.
She heard a swish of an arrow uncomfortably near her ears. She knew that Bishop wouldn't hit her with it, but still, the whole confusion about the scene didn't do either of them any favors. She barely managed to notice the smudge approaching her and she brought her mace down onto it. At least the flames that enveloped its body covered up the smell a little bit.
There was only one more Falmer left and Aeyrin quickly targeted it. Her vision was starting to clear, though there was no getting used to that smell.
The creature jumped at her, almost making her topple over as she stumbled back, but it only took a second before she heard another swish and the creature's hold on her first stiffened, then eased.
It was done. Aeyrin pushed the Falmer off herself with a palpable sneer of disgust before she felt Bishop's presence at her side instead.
They were finally free to look around properly. Although suddenly, they wished they hadn't.
There was a pile of bodies in the middle of the chamber, clearly mages, judging from the scraps of colorful robes still clinging to them. They were all badly decomposed, emitting that awful smell, but that wasn't all. Each of the bodies had its gut gnawed out and filled with actual food. It was likely from the mages's supplies, but by now, it couldn't really be considered edible. It was all rotted and shriveled up. And in the middle of it all, inside the gnawed gashes and between the rotted food, there were several tiny chaurus, feeding on the rot.
Aeyrin quickly slapped her hand over her mouth and nose as she felt herself gag involuntarily. She didn't think the sight would be worse than the smell, but it definitely was.
"Fuck," Bishop's tone carried palpable disgust and perhaps even the strain of trying to keep his own contents of the stomach in. "We can't sleep with this rotting here." The door was open now and the smell was even worse. Besides, how long did it take for a chaurus to grow and start feeding on fresh flesh?
"We gotta burn it," Aeyrin mumbled through her hand. It was the only way they could stay here. The smell would be bad, but not worse than this. And it would at least kill the chaurus.
Bishop only nodded. This was gonna be an unpleasant rest.
Who knew that empty ruins would hold things even more disturbing than any other?
…
Aeyrin and Bishop settled themselves on one of the old beds.
It was far from ideal. The old mattress was falling apart, so they had to put their bedroll on it anyway. The awful smell still lingered in the air a bit, even though they had spent a lot of time trying to get rid of it – first by burning that mess of bodies and chaurus and rotted food. Were the Falmer feeding on that too? Or were they just… cultivating the chaurus in there? It was a disturbing question they didn't probably want to know the answer to.
Secondly, Bishop did his best to beat the smell with his cooking. He used the most aromatic spices he could on the meat and it kind of worked. They were able to enjoy their meal relatively fine, though it was a far cry from their usual meals in the open crisp air.
The smell was still a little palpable when they reclined on the bed, but they were doing their best to keep their mind off it.
It was still an uncomfortable place to rest in though. They could only hope they would find a better one in the caverns of Blackreach once they reached them. Even trapped securely, the side chamber they chose was not ideal. Especially the bed. The metal bars under the flimsy mattress kept poking them in the backs – it begged the question whether it wouldn't have been better to rest on the floor.
Things that seemed ideal were often not that great on second glance. And they had been so excited for their perfect resting place.
But regardless, even if it wasn't exactly comfortable, it was still practical. And they were determined to get as much rest there as they could.
"Ugh, I feel like I can still smell it," Aeyrin groaned as she tried to make herself comfortable on the bedroll at the same time as she tried to hide her face more into Bishop's embrace. It was definitely preferable to the 'air' in the tower, even if they didn't have much opportunity to wash properly. It was quite pleasant, actually. He smelled like smoke and spice.
"You can, it's everywhere," Bishop grumbled. He didn't even want to imagine what shit would have been here by now if there were more Falmer surviving in these halls. He just hoped that there weren't more further in.
"Do you think… do you think they were eating all that or…?" She couldn't get that image out of her head. She really hoped that it was just some sick way to feed the chaurus and that the former Snow Elves weren't really eating rotting carcasses filled with rotting food. They had seen Falmer feed on human flesh before, but this felt somehow worse. She kept thinking about how beautiful the statue of the elf in Irkngthand had looked – and what was left of them now.
"I think we shouldn't think about it too much," Bishop sighed. It was really better not to. Unfortunately, they had no new interesting loot to be excited about and their immediate prospects were mostly filled with more empty halls and more Falmer stragglers. Hopefully they would find the inscribing device soon – that might lift their spirits a bit. After all the excitement about the expedition, this was just disappointing so far.
"Yeah, you're right," she murmured with her face still pressed into his flank. It was best to think of something else. Anything. Too bad this place really deterred any romantic ideas – that was usually a sure distraction. But they were both tired and still reminded a bit too much about the whole scene down in the tower. "So… two more towers tomorrow. And then… we'll have to see what's all the way down there," she mused about their plans instead. Not even when they crossed the pathways, could they see what was below. It was so deep, there was even fog, or maybe steam accumulating down there, making it hard to see. Hopefully it was fog from some water source. Steam would be more disturbing – it would mean that something was active.
"When the Orc said it would take 'at least two days' to go through this place, you think he meant through all of it or just straight down? Because the towers alone are taking so fucking long," Bishop pondered.
"I really hope he meant all of it," Aeyrin sighed. If all they could find here was disgusting Falmer practices, the shorter their stay, the better. She knew that Blackreach would be nothing but dark Falmer-filled caverns, most likely, but it would at least be new and hopefully filled with treasures and interesting things.
Bishop only squirmed against the bars instead of responding. It felt like everything was poking him in the back. It didn't even feel like bars. Well not all of it. Something was really poking him. Something kinda pointy.
"Hang on." He patted Aeyrin's thigh for a second as he leaned away from his position, smooshing her a bit against the bed. She only let out a muffled groan, but she didn't say anything or make any motion to get away from the squeeze.
He kept leaning on his side like that while he started feeling below the bedroll with his hand. There was definitely something there besides the bars. He felt a torn part of the mattress in a second and his hand dipped into the cushioned filling. The soft material was practically falling apart under his hand, but there was something right there – as if the bed was cut open before in order to hide something.
His hand finally fell on a firm edge and it didn't take long to recognize that it was a book. He pulled it out within a second – it was all covered with bits of the mattress, but once he straightened onto his back again, Aeyrin promptly brushed the cotton from the cover. It was a rather small book and it had a picture of an automaton on the cover – one of those huge scary ones, but the blades that were usually at the end of its arms looked more like clubs.
"Oh look, a Dwemer dirty book," Bishop let out a hearty laugh at the find. No wonder the College didn't stash this one, hidden as it was. And it didn't occur to him at first, but looking at the picture on the cover and the differences between it and the usual automaton, it was pretty damn telling. And a little disturbing.
"What? Why would you think it's dirty?" Aeyrin smirked at him. Was it even in Dwemeris? Maybe it was an automaton bestiary that the mages had left behind.
"Are you kidding? Who would hide a regular book into the mattress?" he snickered. "Besides, look at its arms."
"Bishop!" Aeyrin punched him in the chest only a second after she looked at the image again. "I only imagined that because you said it was 'dirty'. Not fair."
He chuckled again at that, but he was already eagerly opening the book. He had to smoosh Aeyrin a bit against the crook of his shoulder again in the process, but she didn't seem to mind hiding like that. Her face was beet red again while she watched him open the book and flip through the pages. The paper felt a little brittle, but it wasn't falling apart yet. The Dwemer had to have some means of preserving their books, maybe the same ones as those notes on the White Phial he had recovered – Quintus mentioned that they had some alchemical coating.
It was all just Dwemer script inside the book. Bishop was hoping for more weird pictures that they could laugh about, but this was pointless to ponder on. There were no more illustrations.
"Are you gonna read to me?" Aeyrin's muffled giggle rang by his ear.
"What? 'Read'? How the fuck would I read this?" Bishop scoffed. He really wished there were more pictures so that he could be sure that it was a dirty book. He wasn't even sure why it was important to him, but the idea kinda brightened the day for some reason.
"Not up to the challenge?" Aeyrin smirked.
Well, she asked for it.
"Alright, princess. I'll read to you." He opened the book on a random page on a text he had no idea how to even begin reading. He had seen Dwemeris before, sure, but he knew sweet fuck-all about what it said and how it was pronounced. Still. He knew the names of some ruins. He could improvise.
"Arknthandak Bthamandas Alftarak Mzinchulft."
Aeyrin burst out laughing instantly. She expected him to start making up some crazy dirty story, not to actually try to read the script. Granted, this was probably better than getting all flustered and embarrassed by whatever he was imagining the automaton doing. This was no place for these things and she could never look at automatons the same way again. Why was it her who kept thinking about the dirty things? He had infected her with his gutter mind.
"Perfect," she snickered as she patted his cheek a little, running her hand over his stubble. "Grow the beard out a little, throw in some golden ornaments to boot and people will start mistaking you for a real Dwemer soon." She already started to imagine the mix of him and an artistic rendition of a Dwemer she had seen before in some book.
"I don't know. I feel like Calcelmo would lock me in his museum if I did that," Bishop smirked.
"True. The book might be enough for him," Aeyrin smiled gently. It would definitely get them a few drakes.
"Yeah, maybe he'll even translate it for us. I really wanna know what that automaton got up to," he chuckled again, earning another playful punch in his chest.
Thank the Divines they couldn't understand that book now. But at least this uncomfortable room did yield a small treasure.
Maybe they would discover even more on their next day of exploring Alftand.
…
Despite the lingering smell and the uncomfortable bed, Bishop and Aeyrin had managed to get some decent rest before another day of traipsing around the empty ruins
They scoured the last two towers from top to bottom and then to the top again. One of them was what looked like a mess hall with kitchens and dining chambers and the other one seemed to be dedicated to research and the library. There was nothing left there though. Not even one item of any value or use. They encountered two more small groups of Falmer in the research tower, but that was it for the opposition. And there were no more mage corpses being fed on, fortunately.
There was still no sign of any device that could fit the lexicon, however, and their next destination was clear – they needed to delve deeper into the ruins.
The descent down the pathways took a very long time. Eventually, they noticed some broken large pipes, still trickling some water down below. And as they descended even further, it became apparent soon what was creating the steam. There was another lava pool there on the very bottom with another forge and several strange devices attached to it. The water trickling down steadily, but as it hit the lava, it evaporated into steam instantly, creating a strange haze in the large chamber.
They examined the devices for quite some time until they found a small pillar with protrusions on the top that could actually fit the cube shape. It really seemed like this was used to inscribe the lexicon. It was standing by a wall with some cogs and pipes that looked like they were leading into it. On the other side of the device, the wall was covered with Dwemer letters.
It had to be it.
Bishop quickly fished out the lexicon from his pack and inserted it into the pillar. It fit perfectly.
But nothing else happened.
It should be doing something, shouldn't it? Some indication of 'inscribing'. They didn't even know what that would look like.
"It's not working," Bishop scowled. "Right?" He couldn't be sure what an inscribed lexicon looked like and how it was different from an empty one, but it had to be different right? How else could Gane tell that this one was empty?
"Maybe because the defenses are down? Maybe the whole… place is… inactive," Aeyrin looked towards the large forge again. The pipes weren't steaming, nothing was moving. Things usually looked more alive when Dwemer cities worked. "Let's try some levers," she smirked and, before Bishop could respond, she headed towards the forge. There were plenty of levers there to pull – surely one of them would make the forge move again and fuel the devices.
"Wait, maybe don't…" Bishop piped up, but by the time he did, Aeyrin had already pulled the first lever. Nothing seemed to happen, but he only let out a resigned sigh in response. "Why am I ever trying to stop you?" he smirked. She was going to do this no matter his protests, even if the lexicon might not really be worth the uncertain results.
"It's just the forge right, not the entire complex?" Aeyrin asked a little uncertainly, but that didn't stop her from pulling on another lever. Nothing happened after that either, but she could see Bishop flinch and reach for his sword each time she did that.
What did he expect to happen exactly?
She pulled the last lever – this had to be it. And finally, first, the sound of escaping steam echoed through the chamber. Their eyes went right to the source – a metal pipe at the top of the forge.
Then, it all started to move. The cogs, the steam, the strange pumps in the forge. There was suddenly so much noise and so much going on. The pillar holding the lexicon started to move it, turning it in place, but they weren't able to watch it much longer. Another noise alerted them instantly as a familiar metal ball rolled out from one of the pipes on the opposite wall, followed instantly by another.
"See?" Bishop managed to smirk at Aeyrin before he brandished his sword. The Dwemer just had to have everything booby-trapped.
Aeyrin seemed to be just as ready for it though as she brandished her mace. They only shared a brief look, confirming that each of them would take care of one. The automatons didn't even manage to unfurl from their shells before both of them were upon them.
The second the automaton straightened up, Aeyrin smashed her mace into its 'spine'. She got hit sideways by its sword into her flank in the process, but it hardly had an impact. She didn't hesitate before delivering another blow, this time to its head. In the meantime, she spotted Bishop lodging his sword in between the other thing's plates forcibly, pressing down on it with his leg pressed onto the sphere until the automaton's plates dislodged, sending a few bits of metal flying across the room and leaving the machine itself slumped down, inactive.
They were getting pretty good at this. It was encouraging regarding the dangers that were sure to come in Blackreach.
The automatons seemed to be dealt with and they both turned their attention again towards the lexicon. As opposed to its previous state, now it was beckoning them with a bright blue glow. When they approached closer, they could see that the cogs were no longer moving. But now, the lexicon had scribing all over it, made with some strange glow. It looked like magic – like a scroll. But it was much more confusing than one. It was probably all Dwemer letters, but they were scribed one on another and another – all making it a confusing mess of shapes. They were scribed there in lined patterns, all across the cube.
No wonder no one could read it. Even if they knew the letters properly, this would be impossible. But Calcelmo was sure to have some fun with it.
Bishop removed the lexicon from the slot very carefully. It was a little heated, but not too much to burn his pack down. He held it for a while as Aeyrin studied it for a bit longer with palpable curiosity, but even the exciting glowing cube held no more answers after a while, so he stashed it into his pack safely again.
The reason for their journey through Alftand had finally come to fruition. And it was almost time to call it a day again after all the walking through the towers and down into the depths. Hours and hours of walking and exploring had already passed. Going back to the towers was not an option with how long the descent had already taken – they had to rest either here or further in, which may be a bit safer without having a position that open right below the pathways.
But there was still one thing they needed to deal with first.
"Do we shut it down? What if it activated the whole complex again?" Bishop scowled at the forge uncertainly. It would definitely make their journey even longer and more precarious if they had to deal with the defenses.
"What if the Blackreach entrance mechanism doesn't work either if we do?" Aeyrin bit her lower lip. They just saw it – the machines did nothing without that forge. What if the Blackreach entrance was the same? They would have to go all the way back after finding it.
"Hmm… that's a point," he let out an annoyed grumble. They weren't sure how far the entrance was, but it didn't sound like a fun prospect to have to come back. And if that was the case, they would have to go down again through the active dungeon anyway.
It was best for now to just carry on.
…
Alftand was even more enormous than they had originally anticipated.
Fortunately though, the activated forge seemed to only affect the immediate chamber. The place was still just as dead and inactive as it had been before.
They spent another night in one of the empty side chambers – this time camping out on the floor with their rations and only their bedroll. It was enough for now, but the next day, more of the same awaited them. Empty rooms, only very few Falmer stragglers here and there and one unexpected Dwemer spiderling. They went further and further in – it was almost like crossing the entirety of Skyrim in only one dungeon, but most of their walking was just downwards. It became clear soon enough that the Orc probably didn't mean that the entire city would take two days of exploring – by the time they reached the end, almost three days had passed.
But they were finally there.
There were no Flamer, no active defenses, just a familiar sight – a large circular chamber with a lever in the middle, the elevator, and a pillar-like device with a slot for a small ball.
This was it. They were healthy, alive and they were at the end. The College had really done quite a job with this place. Aside from the lexicon and the dirty book, they didn't really have anything to show for their endless walks.
But that would all change soon.
They knew that whatever awaited them even deeper below would be nothing like Alftand.
They needed to be prepared for anything – for any opposition, any dangers. Blackreach had been inaccessible for centuries now. It was for the best to rest again to be fully ready the next day.
Whatever was beyond the device, they would soon find out.
They set up in the lift room, trapping it and setting their bedroll there. It was the safest place possible. If anything attacked them, they could just use the lever and escape that way. But they weren't expecting any trouble. It was possible that there were still crevices through which the Falmer could get in, likely from Blackreach itself, but they didn't seem too eager to occupy Alftand again. Maybe it was some of the charred Falmer corpses the two of them had seen all over the place – it could be an effective deterrent which the mages left behind. Or maybe there was just nothing of use in the ruins anymore, not even for the Falmer.
It didn't matter much. All that mattered was that they had a relatively safe place to rest before their big adventure.
Their third night in the ruins passed and they were ready.
Armed to the teeth, prepared for any horrible dangers lurking there, they approached the opening device and inserted the small sphere inside. Fortunately, they needed no forge to power it. They had to jump out of the way as the tiles beneath their feet started shifting. And soon, a spiral staircase below them was revealed.
They grabbed the sphere again, wary of having to leave it in the slot, but fortunately the entrance remained open. Maybe it would close sometime again. Or maybe they would have to put the sphere there once more to close it – like an actual key. But the important thing was taking the key with them in case they needed it to exit. The last thing they wanted was to get stuck in there forever.
They descended down the stairs then, eager to see what awaited them beyond the door.
But nothing they had imagined before could prepare them for what they saw.