"Brr... remind me again why I'm doing this?" Lucien massaged his arms in attempt to keep warm as they crossed the broken ice field over the Sea of Ghosts.

"We're on an Elder Scroll hunt and the person who can help us lives there." Cura said as she leapt over a gap between platforms of ice.

"An Elder Scroll. Why is it always an Elder Scroll?" Lucien whined.

"Last time it was the Staff of Magnus."Inigo corrected him.

"Whatever. It's besides my point; Cura is Dragonborn. Why can't she just... I don't know... say something really cruel to Alduin in the Dragon tongue and make him fly away crying or something?" Lucien griped as he tried to sneak around a sleeping Horker.

Vilja accidentally slipped and came eerily close to landing in the frigid water, but Cura caught her by the wrist in the nick of time. Vilja was shaken, but all right."Th-thank you... I nearly had an ice bath just now."

"Don't worry, I won't allow it." Cura reassured her ally as she slowly lifted her back into the standing position.

"Really? Even if I dive in on purpose?" Vilja jokingly made the motion of diving preparation to test her reaction.

"If you do that I'm leaving you." Cura sneered.

"I was just joking!" Vilja defended as she nearly slipped again. This time, however, she kept her footing. "Wh-whoa!"

There was a large pool of water between their frozen platform and a small outpost laying on a large rock.

Cura Shouted. "IIZ SLEN NUS!" and her cold breath created a long trail of ice atop the water's surface, creating what was effectively a bridge.

"Wow... it does not matter how many times I see it... your ability is incredible, my friend!" Inigo exclaimed excitedly.

Cura beamed proudly as she crossed ahead of them.

They opened the hatch of the outpost and descended a ladder. Beneath the water's surface there was a cavern lined entirely with ice within and, as described, Dwemer technology. A large mechanism sat on the other side of the lower floor, and an old bearded man in blue hooded robes fumbled around before it, mumbling nonsense to himself. "Dig, Dwemer, in the beyond. I'll know your lost unknown and rise to your depths. When the top level was built, no more could be placed. It was and is the maximal apex. How long will it be sung? My feet were set upon the rock but it turned to mud and drew me down. It licks the panes and smokes the glass..."

Lucien looked at Vilja, who swirled her index finger next to her head.

"Er... hello. Septimus?" Cura cautiously greeted him.

"The ice entombs the heart. The bane of Kagrenac and Dagoth Ur. To harness it is to know. The fundaments. The Dwemer lockbox hides it from me. The Elder Scroll gives insight deeper than the deep ones, though. To bring about the opening." Septimus blathered on.

"The Elder Scroll? Do you have one?" Cura asked upon hearing the word.

It should only be so easy.

Septimus paused for a moment and stared blankly into the air for a moment. "I've seen enough to know their fabric. The warp of air, the weft of time. But no, it is not in my possession."

"I've heard you're knowledgeable about the Scrolls." Cura stated.

"Elder Scrolls. Indeed. The Empire. They absconded with them. Or so they think. The ones they saw. The ones they thought they saw. I know of one. Forgotten. Sequestered. But I cannot go to it, not poor Septimus, for I... I have arisen beyond its grasp." The old man clawed his face and pulled his skin down, and released it, allowing it to bounce back in place.

"Are you all right?" Cura showed her concern.

"Oh, I am well. I will be well. Well to be within the will inside the walls." Septimus giggles gleefully.

It was clear that even Sheogorath himself was lost to this man.

Cura pitied his condition. The Elder Scrolls, indeed. She was thankful that Agmaer and Dexion hadn't met such a fate. Was she next in line, though?

"Do you know where the Scroll is? It's very urgent." Cura demanded.

"Here." Septimus gestured to the air around them, arms flailing. "Well, here as in this plane. Mundus. Tamriel. Nearby, relatively speaking. On the cosmological scale, it's all nearby."

"What..." Cura held back her anger. "Okay, but I need something a little more specific than that."

"One block lifts the other. Septimus will give what you want, but you must bring him something in return." the madman insisted.

Cura relented. "Okay, what is it you need?"

"You see this masterwork of the Dwemer." the madman laid his hand upon the large door of the Dwarven mechanism in his room. "Deep inside their greatest knowings. Septimus is clever among men, but he is but an idiot child compared to the dullest of the Dwemer. Lucky then they left behind their own way of reading the Elder Scrolls. In the depths of Blackreach one yet lies. Have you heard of Blackreach? 'Cast upon where Dwemer cities slept, the yearning spire hidden learnings kept.'"

Cura fell silent. It didn't make a lick of sense.

"Blackreach?" Lucien chimed in. "Did he say, 'Bkackreach?'"

"Under deep. Below the dark. The hidden keep. Tower Mzark. Alftand. The point of puncture, of first entry, of the tapping. Delve to its limits, and Blackreach lies just beyond. But not all can enter there. Only Septimus knows the hidden key to loose the lock to jump beneath the deathly rock." Septimus held up an odd cubelike object.

It was apparent to the group that without Septimus' aid, they would not be able to reach the Scroll.

"And how do we enter?" Cura asked.

"Two things I have for you. Two shapes. One edged, one round. The round one, for tuning." he held up a spherical object in addition to the cubed one. "Dwemer music is soft and subtle, and needed to open their cleverest gates. The edged lexicon, for inscribing. To us, a hunk of metal. To the Dwemer, a full library of knowings. But... empty. Find Mzark and its sky-dome. The machinations there will read the Scroll and lay the lore upon the cube. Trust Septimus. He knows you can know."

Sky-dome. An oculory?

He gently handed Cura the two objects.

"An Attunement Sphere and a Blank Lexicon... actual Dwemer science! Incredible!" Lucien exclaimed.

On the Sphere, Septimus began to explain: "The deepest doors of Dwemer listen for singing. It plays the attitude of notes proper for opening. Can you not hear it? Too low for hearings?"

Cura decided to humour him and listen in the air for any odd sounds. "I... hear a light humming noise, and a ringing... and a sudden tuft."

Inigo looked around frantically and then pointed at Lucien. "He did it!"

Lucien was surprised, and quick to deny any suspicion. "I did nothing! The one who calls attention to it is obviously the culprit."

Vilja laughed. "You're both so silly!"

Septimus continued and pointed to the Lexicon, where he admitted "To glimpse the world inside an Elder Scroll can damage the eyes. Or the mind, as it has to Septimus. The Dwemer found a loophole, as they always do. To focus the knowledge away and inside without harm. Place the lexicon into their contraption and focus the knowings into it. When it brims with glow, bring it back and Septimus can read once more."

Cura understood, but had to know. "What do you expect to gain from the Elder Scroll?"

She hoped it wasn't anything nefarious. They already had enough to deal with.

The madman looked surprised. "Ooooh, an observant one. How clever to ask of Septimus. This Dwemer lockbox. Look upon it and wonder. Inside is the heart. The heart of a god! The heart of you. And me. But it was hidden away. Not by the Dwarves, you see. They were already gone. Someone else. Unseen. Unknown. Found the heart, and with a flair for the ironical, used Dwarven trickery to lock it away. The scroll will give the deep vision needed to open it. For not even the strongest machinations of the Dwemer can hold off the all-sight given by an Elder Scroll."

"The heart of a god? Shezzar?" Lucien proposed.

"Lorkhan?" Vilja asked in tandem.

Septimus waved his hands in two different directions. "You look to your left, you see one way. You look to your right, you see another. But neither is any harder than the opposite. But the Elder Scrolls... they look left and right in the stream of time. The future and past are as one: Sometimes they even look up. What do they see then? What if they dive in? Then the madness begins."

Cura pictured a river, flowing from one point to another. Where, indeed, we're they in its current? "I... think I may understand. I'll Ike Alduin reappearing now. It happened so fast. So sudden. It was as if he were a fish leaping out of his part of the current and landing in ours. And yet, his leaping was what led the current to flow the way that it did."

Septimus clapped his hands together. "Your eyes see the truth! Your mind is an ocean; you have come before the scrolls before! You know!" He laid his hand on her shoulder. "Wisdom sits upon your head and sureness in your bosom. I know you are the right person to task this with!"

Cura felt uneasy about the whole thing; the more she focused, she could feel a dark energy from behind the lockbox.

Still, she would have to go to Alftand. She and her allies walked along the circular rising slope to return to the entrance, unaware of a dark presence watching them; a wretched abyss with hundreds of eyes bloating out in many directions and dark tentacles flailing about slowly.

It lurked in the shadows and watched as the Dragonborn left. "Fate turns upon the Last Dragonborn..." it muttered as it slowly began to slip away into the darkness.

"Do you know where Alftand is, Lucien?" Cura asked.

"I thought you'd never ask!" Lucien exclaimed joyously. "Hand me your map. I've been noting these ruins down for AGES!"

He compared his University notebook to Cura's map. He circled the frozen hills southwest of Winterhold.

"Alftand, according to my research, contains four zones: Alftand Glacial Ruins, Alftand Animonculory, Alftand Cathedral, and Alftand Ruined Tower, which is a separate building - but you'll notice that immediately." Lucien professed.

"Are the Dwemer Ruins in Skyrim really as dangerous as the ones on Solstheim?" Vilja inquired. "I have yet to visit one myself, so I really don't know."

"Wait! On Sols-" Lucien cut himself off. "Have you gone to Dumzbthar?"

Vilja shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not."

"Drat." Lucien snapped his fingers. "Well, it didn't hurt to ask."

The group headed to Winterhold and travelled to the icier region from there. After a couple of hours passed on foot, they eventually came upon what looked like a Dwarven Ruin that hung along the cliffs.

They observed what appeared to be the remains of the camp of an ill-fated expedition that lay perched on the edge of the cliff, near a large wreckage of two destroyed shacks with holes littering the walls and roof and missing doors, an unlit campfire, and several destroyed tents with bed rolls. Blood was splattered everywhere; only kept fresh by the cold winter's breath, and bodies were blanketed in snow.

Inside the shack to their right, Inigo discovered and began to pick a locked chest and Lucien discovered on the nearby table a journal titled 'Expedition Manifest by Sulla Trebatius'.

He read it aloud for the group:

"Expedition Manifest

by Sulla Trebatius

A basic run-down of the Alftand Expedition Camp and its occupants

We've managed to secure the site and hold off any others who may try to steal our discoveries so far, especially those from the College of Winterhold, who seem to think the glory of exploring every ruin should be theirs alone.

The crew for our expedition is as follows:

Sulla Trebatius (myself) - Expedition leader

Umana - my constant companion and bodyguard

Valie - a mage not associated with Winterhold (took some time to find)

Endrast - a fellow explorer of some local renown

Yag - a great brute of a woman, hired to keep the rest of the labor in check

J'darr and J'zhar - two Khajiit brothers, hired as labor

Need a couple more laborers, getting through the ice is proving difficult.

We've set up shelter and scouted the area. The small ruins on the lower plateau of the glacier don't seem connected to the main structure and we haven't managed to find a way into the tower parapet we've found here. Yag mentioned spotting a fissure in the glacial wall that may lead into the ruins so we are going to try find a way to get down there with the gear. Looks like a storm is coming."

Vilja observed the horrible, macabre picture outside. "I... think it's safe to say their expedition didn't go well."

"I wonder why they were here. I wouldn't be surprised if Sulla hails from the Synod, judging by what she thought about the College of Winterhold." Lucien scratched the hairs on his chin. "I can assure you the Arcane University, though connected, doesn't hold Winterhold in that much contempt, to assume they would 'steal our discovery.'"

Cura agreed. "It does give off some strong Paratus vibes, to be certain." The thought crossed her mind: if the Synod would only work with the College of Winterhold rather than against them. They could probably rope in the Psijic Order and the Mages' Guild in High Rock, and drive the Thalmor out of the land. Sadly, it just didn't seem to be the way.

"Indeed. Look at all this blood! It looks like a very ugly painting." Inigo shuddered.

"Do you think Falmer did it again?" Lucien asked.

"Eww, I hate Falmer! They're so ugly, and stinky." Vilja pinched her nose and curled in disgust. "I already regret coming here."

"You could always just wait outside." Cura offered an alternative.

"And leave you all to die for your clumsiness? No way." Vilja beamed proudly.

"Clumsiness?!" Lucien protested as he tripped on a body and landed in the snow

Inigo laughed as he pocketed a diamond ring he'd found in the chest.

Cura held a hand to her forehead. "Oh, brother."

There was a tower with a lift, but it was locked by a closed gate, which had internal gears, suggesting that it could only be opened from the inside.

"So clever, and yet they made everything so inconvenient." Vilja complained as she rugged the golden grate bar. "What was so great about the Dwemer anyway?"

"Their great technological ingenuity and their incredible wisdom. What might the world be like today, had they never vanished?" Lucien pondered as they walked along the catwalks west of the camp as they passed over an icy crevice to the entrance of Alftand Glacial Ruins, which seemed to be embedded in the mountains.

Suddenly, an epiphany hit Cura. "What if they went forward in time? Like Alduin?"

The group fell silent as Cura posed the question.

Lucien seemed fascinated by the hypothesis. "Go on, Candle." he opened his journal.

"The Tongues used the Elder Scroll to send Alduin forward in time, and this made people believe the Dragons ceased to exist. What if the Dwemer race wasn't erased, but instead catapulted into the far future?" Cura elaborated as they entered the ruins. "They have the Scroll here - it's entirely possible. Maybe other Dwemer settlements had a way to chain the effect of the Scroll, and it effected them all that way?"

"What if it was their goal al along? To transcend creation?" Lucien mused.

"Wow, just thinking about that is threatening to bring back the mind vibrations." Inigo shuddered. "But it is a cool theory - and probably the case, in truth."

"It makes my head hurt. Can we keep moving, please?" Vilja walked ahead.

Once inside, they found themselves in an icy tunnel with many crates and barrels throughout. They were weathered and worn, and some were buried in the ice itself. One of the crates near the entrance had a Dwarven metal ingot resting on top of it. Inigo saw fit to take it as a souvenir.

Vilja walked beside Lucien, who held an idle flame spell to provide warmth as they descended deeper and deeper into the ancient forgotten space.

Tensions were high as they expected to either be assaulted by bandits, or by Falmer or the usual Dwarven mechanisms.

They followed the tunnel as it twisted and turned and eventually came upon an unlit campfire with a cooking spit that had been knocked over. Its contents spilled over onto the ice, and have since frozen there causing Lucien to gag.

The ruins were dry within, but the air was unmistakably moist due to the frozen vapour permeating the space.

"You know, I've heard that in addition to their very different choice of location, the Dwemer of Alftand had their own unique style of iconography. Apparently they had fascinating tattoos along their chest and lower abdomen, and on their forehead." Lucien stated. "Gah! I wish I could have met one."

"They probably would not have taken very kindly to any of us." Inigo stated. "Me, a Khajiit, Vilja a Nord, you an Imperial and Cura a hybrid - no offense - would either make a scientific study to them, or slaves."

Cura pressed a hand against the cold, unwelcoming walls. "I agree. Clearly they had no mercy for the Snow Elves. I don't think they'd have mercy for anyone."

"Maybe it's the constant exposure to mechanical things that made them forget that lives besides their own had value." Vilja proposed. "I know that if I lived with machines doing every little thing for me too, I'd go crazy!"

"Of course - nothing beats getting people to do everything for you instead." Lucien threw a jab her way.

"At least I'm not ashamed to ask for help when I need it." Vilja scoffed.

"Good grief. Please, we're likely about to get into fights in here already. Let's not fight each other, too!" Cura exclaimed.

"Yes, it is most counterproductive." Inigo laughed. "Wait until we are back outside before putting on your Pugilist's Gloves."

Cura leaned against a barrel and accidentally knocked over a journal which fell onto a bedroll.

"What's that?" Lucien asked as he bent over to examine the fallen book. He immediately recognized the name on the inner cover matching one of the expeditioners.

"Sulla's Journal

by Sulla Trebatius

We tried to get through glacier at the top, but we couldn't find any way into that tower parapet. Yag spotted in the glacial wall and construction of a catwalk was finished just in time for a storm to hit. At first we thought to wait it out, but it has only gotten worse. A shift in the glacier took out several of the new laborers.

I ordered everyone to quickly move as much of the supplies as we could into the fissure and we managed to get most of it. One of the hands decided he wasn't going to listen and tried to make it out through the storm, but got blown off the catwalk by the wind.

Looks like we are well and truly stuck in here. But for all that I feel even more driven that I should be the one to uncover the mysteries of this ruin. I'm tired of all the credit for my work going to the Mages or the Legion. It will be my name that goes down in the history books for this discovery."

"Well, her name did go down somewhere... just not in the history books." Vilja shrugged.

"Wow." Lucien said with ironic disbelief at her words. If that was an attempt at humour, it was quite cold, to say the least. The Imperial was not impressed.

The tunnel continued on to another camp, with blood splashed all over the floor and another unlit campfire. There were five more bed rolls, with a lute lying between two of them, and a copy of a book titled "Chimarvamidium" against the ice wall.

"Ah, Chimarvamidium! Whoever was here had good taste in literature, at least." Lucien proclaimed.

After treading through lightly, Cura and her friends could hear part of an argument between a Khajiit brother and his brother's corpse. "Where is it? I know you were trying to keep it for yourself J'zhar... You always try to keep it for yourself! No! There's got to be more Skooma... Shut up! Shut up! Don't lie to me J'zhar! You hid it! You always try to steal it from me!"

Inigo shuddered when he saw the two of them from between an ancient pipe and boiler. "They remind me of myself and Fergus a little bit... if he would have been with me during my skooma phase... is that how it would have turned out?"

Cura shook her head and gently tapped his shoulder. "It's ancient history, my friend. Don't entertain the idea."

"You are right. I am being foolish." Inigo admitted shamefully. "I will keep my brain in the present."

They reasoned that the Khajiits must be J'darr and J'zhar, who were mentioned in the journal.

As they moved in closer from around the corner, J'darr was growing hostile. He kept looking at his brother's body and then at Cura. "What? Who is this, Brother? Another of the smooth skins looking for food? But this one wasn't trapped with us... No... No! You must be the one who took my skooma!"

"No - I just got here! How could I have taken your skooma?" Cura pointed out the absurdity of his accusation.

The withdrawn Khajiit was practically foaming at the mouth. "Give. Back. My. Skooma!"

"You cannot reason with a skooma addict, my friend! We will have to put him down." Inigo informed Cura with a heavy heart.

"My SKOOMA!" the addict cried as he clumsily swung his pickaxe at Cura a few times. With each hit that met her shield, he grew angrier and more aggressive.

Inigo shoved J'darr away from his friend, causing the junkie to smack against the ice wall.

"I am sorry, but your existence has come to an end." Inigo launched a sobering ebony arrow through his skull as he scrambled to his feet, killing the sorry feline.

Inigo shuddered as he looked at the two dead Khajiits laying there on the permafrost-coated ground. "I am sorry, my friend. I lost my cool there." he said to Cura with a sad tone.

Cura looked at Inigo and at the dead Khajiit brothers. Seeing the one who he identified with having an arrow through his head was especially harrowing.

"Let us go." Inigo suggested as he continued to walk out of the chamber.

The deeper they headed inside, they began to see moreDwemer architecture, but was still partially filled with snow and ice. There were smashed Dwarven spiders littering the downward slope, leading to a large room with a worktable loaded with the wreckage of two Dwarven spiders, a copy of 'Dwarves, v2', a soul gem, an iron dagger, a copy of 'Dwemer Inquiries Vol III', three broken up soul gem fragments, and a book of Research Notes.

"You can really tell they've been planning this excavation for a long time." Lucien noted as he pocketed all of the books.

"Ooh! I think that is the lift!" Vilja pointed to

a barred doorway to the north where a lift could be seen with a lever at its center. "Oh, of course it's locked. Why wouldn't it be."

The group decided to pass through the western door and headed up an ascending ramp, with another Dwarven spider near the top. Cura's Unrelenting Force was enough to destroy it, after her training with Paarthurnax strengthened it.

"Wow... that was interesting." Lucien looked on in awe as they headed past the dust that littered the floor and the walls.

"I'm pushing back against the world." Cura recounted the wise Dragon's words.

They stole into a large room, with a table at the entrance holding several Dwemer items: gears, ingots, oil cans, and levers. There were several oil slicks on the ground, suggesting struggle. Lucien discovered a journal inside of the oil slick, greased in it. Still, that did not deter him from opening it and reading aloud the contents inside.

"Umana's Journal

by Umana

It's been about a week since Valie went missing and now Endrast is gone too. We found blood leading over to the barred off doorway, but Sulla seems to think that they found a way through and that they are trying to cut him out of the discovery.

He keeps saying that we need to press on. We've managed to break through into another section of the ruins, an "Animonculory", where the dwarves would produce their automatons.

We learned the hard way that the metal creatures are still alive in there and it hasn't improved Yag's mood at all. She holds that the Khajiit brothers aren't involved with the disappearances and has been keeping a hard eye on Sulla.

The rations have all but run out and we are going to have to decide soon whether to brave the storm or try to push further into the ruins. I don't know if the echoes of screams I've heard in my sleep are those of our missing comrades, or my own nightmares."

On either wall were the nooks that Cura knew housed Dwarven Spheres.

Even if she hadn't known this already, she would have learned, as they began leaping out like unwanted prizes.

Thankfully, her foreknowledge had her ready her weapons and alert her friends.

The battle was swift, and Vilja was first to leap in. "Get away from my friend, you bastard!" She stuck her Steel sword between the Sphere's central tower and severed the automaton in half by the middle.

Cura was impressed by Vilja's agility. "And you needed my help to deal with that Nord and Bosmer?"

Inigo impaled the second one with his sword through its head and Lucien laid a Frost Rune on the ground.

Vilja sheathed her sword and wiped some of the sweat off her brow. "Well, you can never be too careful you know."

Cura dashed forward as the other Sphere triggered the Frost Rune trap, and shattered its frozen form with a flying mace bash.

Lucien cast a strong ice spell over the nooks to seal them up and prevent others from coming in. "Phew. Nice work, everybody!"

"Wow, you're really good! I wish I were that good with a mace." Vilja remarked.

"It takes years of practice." Cura twirled her cudgel like a baton before docking it on her waist.

"Indeed! My friend here is a big, bad bruiser!" Inigo laughed.

"No need to fear, unless you refuse her." Lucien rhymed.

"Her battle ability is why we would choose her!" Inigo played along.

"Like it or not, she's a situation-diffuser!" Lucien exclaimed.

"If you think to outrhyme me, you must be a boozer!" Inigo pointed a sharp finger at him and they both laughed.

"Your rhymes are so lame, they're quite the snoozer!" Lucien pointed back.

"We'd better get serious, or I think we might lose her!" Vilja pointed to Cura, who seemed to be waiting for them to finish. She beckoned for them to follow her and they continued walking the desolate halls.

Lucien laughed. "I hope that our rhyming will truly amuse her!"

"If we aren't careful, we could only confuse her." Cura remarked as she came upon a forked pathway. Without hesitation, however, she took the left.

In the next room, there was a table holding more pieces of metalwork and a soul gem. Behind the table was a set of three pistons which thrust up vertically, filling the room with steam with each pump.

Cura looked at a ledge above the thrusting pistons and looked at some pipes and an upper level above the door to the east.

She beckoned her friends follow her up and waited for a piston to drop. Her friends each grabbed onto it and one by one, they managed to reach the upper ledge by riding the elevating objects.

"Very unorthodox, but I liked the idea." Cura chuckled as she looked at the intended route below them.

"I really was clever." Inigo admitted.

"The rules she did sever." Lucien rhymed.

Cura immediately turned to him. "Save it for later, please?"

Vilja opened a chest on the ledge and found a flawless emerald, a Healing potion, and a few Dwarven ingots.

Cura quickly grabbed Lucien and Inigo and instructed Vilja to hold onto her.

Vilja was confused. "What's going on?"

"If you don't want to have to catch up, hold on." Cura warned her.

Vilja did as she was bid, and Cura arched forward. "WULD NA KEST!"

"Aiiiyeee!" Vilja screamed, as she was unprepared for the Whirlwind Sprint.

The group soared across from the ledge and over the horizontally lain pipes, and through the grating to the south.

They then saw the path around the room to the Animonculory.

Below them were many traps, steam engines, and roaming constructs.

"It gets funner every time!" Inigo cheered excitedly as his heart continued to race.

Vilja had to lean against the wall for a moment to catch her breath.

"Are you all right?" Cura laid d concerned hand on her back as Vilja pressed her forehead against the wall.

"I... did not expect that... why didn't you warn me?" Vilja heaved.

Cura was surprised by her reaction. "I thought you would have anticipated it."

Inigo stepped in. "Well, she is new to the group, my friend. Give her some time. I am sure she will eventually be able to handle it."

"Thanks, Inigo." Vilja expressed as she caught herself. Soon thereafter, the group walked through the door nearby and ascended a flight of stairs leading up to a T-jshaped corridor with an open chest; an obvious trap, Inigo ascertained when he noted the pressure plate in front of the chest that appeared to lead to what looked like a spear trap from the walls beside it. "I am sorry, my friend, but that chest can stay where it is. I do not wish to become Shish-Kabab."

Cura was fine with it. "No worries, Inigo. Let's keep moving forward."

One Dwarven spider scuttled in the corridor to the south, and did not see Lucien's Elemental Burst coming. On impact, it exploded, and another came rushing up from down a flight of stairs ending in a cave-in through a cloud of green, noxious gas at the bottom of the stairs. Cura tossed a Fireball onto the gas, causing it to explode and destroy the construct.

After some more wandering they followed the path through the remaining gas, taking care to cover their mouths and noses as they treaded through.

At the end, the path turned to the east and the group reached its end, pushing open the door that led to Alftand Animonculory.

At the end of the dark, new corridor was another golden, chiseled door that revealed a larger room, with pipes crossing above ahead. A gap between the metal panels under the pipes led to a worn out chest. Next to the chest was the body of what seemed to be the Wood Elf Endrast, a member of the expedition, and his journal, clenched in his pale hand.

Lucien managed to wrest the book free and read it. If for no other reason than to use it for a warning.

"Endrast's Journal

by Endrast

The eyeless creatures took us in our sleep. I don't know what happened to the Khajiit brothers, we never saw them in the cell. I managed to pick the lock and we made a break for it, but got split up. Sulla yelled something about not leaving without finding what he came here for and Umana chased after him.

Yag and I tried for the top of the cave shaft, but one of the ramps was broken. Without a hesitation, she grabbed me by the scruff of my tunic, threw me atop the ledge and told me to run.

And I did. I didn't even look back. I just ran like a coward. I could hear her fighting them and I just had to get away. I didn't even notice the arrow in my shoulder till I hid here.

Those metal creatures are still all around me and I'm too terrified to even move.

Eight Divines, please just take me now."

"Looks like they did just that." Lucien remarked.

"So there are Falmer here." Vilja shuddered. "I hate those things! They are so smelly and ugly."

"Do not worry, Vilja. Our friend Cura is the Falmer Whisperer!" Inigo reassured her.

They found themselves walking along a twisting slope that spanned the next chamber. The ground was flimsy and the vacuous space felt cramped on the tiny walkways.

Sure enough, Falmer were there, and immediately set upon the group. Though thankfully, Cura managed to deter them with a mere glimpse of Auriel's Bow.

Recognizing her as the child of Auri-El, the Falmer stepped down quickly, to her friends' relief.

After some time, they came upon the corpses of the other expedition members, one, the Orc, entangled in the wreckage of architecture.

Vilja shuddered. "Nice decorations..." she spat sarcastically.

The journey was arduous even without their interference, and the group found themselves lost in the trap-addled mechanical labyrinth for quite some time before reaching what appeared to be a large door. When they walked through it, a mighty dry wind pushed back against them.

They found themselves in the Alftand Cathedral. The architecture was unmistakably Dwemer, with a broken gate leading the way in. Two Centurions waited at the entrance, but we're inactive.

After some more meandering through violent mechanical constructs and traversing uneven terrain, they came upon a gated interior where a blond Imperial man and a Redguard woman arguing.

"Sulla, let's just get out of here. Hasn't there been enough death?" the Redguard, most likely Umana, suggested.

Sulla was not having it. "Oh, of course. You're just waiting for me to turn my back so you can have all the glory for yourself!"

Immediately, Sulla lunged forward at Umana, sword in hand. She blocked it with her spiked target and parried him, cutting him in the process.

Immediately, Cura ran in to intervene in the conflict. "Whoa! No! What's going on?" She waved her hands forward.

Immediately the two turned to see her and her allies approach. Sulla sneered hatefully. "Umana, you called in friends to kill me, is that it?"

Umana looked confused. "I don't even know these people!"

Cura confirmed it. "It's true. I don't know either of you, but I can see you're part of the same expedition. Sulla Trebatius and Umana?"

The pair of explorers exchanged uncertain glares before addressing Cura. Umana spoke up first. "You know about our expedition?"

"I do. I'm sorry about your coworkers." Cura expressed her condolences.

Sulla pointed his sword directly at the invasive half-Elf. "I don't know why you've come here, Breton, but it was your last mistake!"

Cura rolled her eyes. "Put that down. You don't want to fight me. You're outnumbered four to two, regardless."

"She's right, Sulla. Don't be an idiot!" Umana lowered her blade and sheathed it.

Sulla wasn't hearing it. He lunged forward at Cura. "You will not interfere in my expedition!"

Cura caught him by surprise. "FUS RO!" her Shout blew him backwards several feet away and caused him to smack into a set of bars and collapse through them, revealing a Dwarven pedestal inside of an enclave.

Umana's mouth hung open from the spectacle she had just witnessed.

"I'm on my own expedition." Cura explained as she walked past the Redguard and into the enclave. As soon as she saw the circular-shaped slot on the pedestal, she knew that it would correspond to the Attunement Sphere.

Lucien followed her inside and looked at the unconscious Sulla before turning his attention to the pedestal. "Candle, that Sphere Septimus gave you..."

Cura already held up the old, gold-hued metallic sphere and placed it on top of the pedestal.

A loud clanking noise was heard as she activated the mechanism, and the floor behind them retracted slowly into a staircase leading down to a door. "This must lead to Blackreach... whatever that is, exactly." Cura pondered as she looked at the open floor.

"I look forward to seeing it. I'd heard the name before, but we have more than just ears for a reason." Lucien proclaimed.

"I don't know what we're going to expect down there. There's no turning back now. Are you all ready?" Cura asked.

Lucien nodded, and Vilja waved her hand in a twisting motion to gesture uncertainty.

"My friend, I would follow you into the Deadlands." Inigo informed her. "Let us get this over with."

Umana looked at Sulla, and then at the group. "What business do you have, going to Blackreach?"

"Our business is our own." Cura informed her bluntly.

Umana looked back at Sulla. "It was a mistake coming here. We've lost everyone... everything. We wanted to study the Dwemer technology - we got more than we bargained for."

"Are we supposed to feel bad for you?" Vilja admonished her. "If you all weren't constantly trying to undermine each other, you would have been okay!"

"Look... I just want to get out of here now. I'm not strong enough to do it on my own. You all seem strong... could I come with you before Sulla kills me, or I him?" Umana pleaded.

The group looked to Cura.

The Breton gave it a moment's thought, and remembered Stendarr's instruction. "Never refuse aid you are capable of giving." she muttered to herself. She answered the desperate explorer. "Okay, you may come with us. But we will be watching you."

Umana exhaled with relief. "Thank you."

Cura placed a hand on the door and closed her eyes. With a release of air, she pushed open the ancient door.