Lucien and Serana travelled for hours, but eventually located the Dwarven Ruin of Arkngthamz. Nestled in the rugged terrain of The Reach, Arkngthamz stood as a testament to the ingenuity of the Dwemer. Its weathered exterior bore the marks of time, with stone walls that had once gleamed with the brilliance of polished metal now dulled and encrusted with the patina of age. The entrance, framed by towering golden metal arches, promised the allure of ancient secrets hidden within its depths. The mechanical hum that once filled the air had long since faded by the surface, leaving only the whisper of the wind through the desolate upper corridors. Vines crept over the massive gears and cogs that lay strewn about near the entryway, nature slowly reclaiming the land from the grasp of technology. The sun cast long shadows over the ruin's exterior, illuminating the intricate stonework and the remnants of automation, hinting at the grandeur that Arkngthamz had once embodied.
Lucien sighed as he looked at the magnificent domed building which served as the gateway. "The majesty of the Dwemer's creation, even in decay, is undeniable - a relic of a civilization that had mastered the balance between art and engineering, now standing as a silent guardian over memories long forgotten." he spoke in reverence to the ancients.
"So... this is the famous 'Arkngthamz.'" Serana placed a hand on her hip, seemingly unimpressed by its splendor. "Looks pretty much like any other Dwemer ruin, honestly."
Lucien gawked at her response. "Oh, come on now, Serana! It has its own unique flavour!"
"Yes; all the flavour of a plain Sweetroll." the vampiress responded with a sneer derived from amusement. "Look, Lucien; I get that you're fascinated with the Dwemer - I find some of their concepts fascinating myself - but I don't see anything particularly different about this ruin compared to the Dwemer ruins leading to, and inside of Blackreach."
"While it may not be quite as elegant as the architectural style of the Snow Elves," Lucien began, hearkening back to their time in the Forgotten Vale. "I think the metal accents suit it quite nicely. And the stonework was clearly carved by very capable hands."
Serana scoffed. "Whatever you say, pretty boy." She took the first steps onto the stone platform and the two of them headed past the door. The interior was what one would expect from the Dwarven ruins: walls carved out of stone, lined with golden pipes spewing steam like a leaky faucet, and golden busts of Dwarven men adorning the walls. The floor was gilded and intricate in its grating, and the stone took on a greenish hue, perhaps due to millennia of exposure to the inner elements and machinations.
Lucien breathed in the crusty air. "Ah, smell that, Serana? It is the scent of progress."
"Or metal rot." Serana retorted sharply. She took a sharp step and extended a hand, pushing Lucien back. "Hold on; do you hear that?"
In the dimly lit corridors of the ancient Dwemer ruin, Serana focused her vampiric gaze, cutting through the shadows ahead to see what lurked beyond them. The air was thick with the scent of oil and metal, a stark contrast to the musty decay of the ruin's stone walls. With a series of clanks and whirrs, Dwarven Metal Spheres slid out from pockets in the walls and unfolded from their deceptive stillness, their golden metallic bodies gleaming with an ominous sheen in the sporadic light. Dwarven Spiders skittered forth from the shadows, their many-legged forms clicking menacingly on the stone floor as electricity sparked around them.
Lucien, ever the scholar, quickly assessed their dire situation, his mind racing through his extensive knowledge of Dwemer constructs. He knew that brute force would be of little use against the sturdy metal carapaces of their foes. Serana, with her vampiric prowess, stood ready, her eyes glowing with a preternatural light that seemed to pierce the gloom. She summoned the chill of the northern winds, weaving frost spells that crystallized the air itself, aiming to slow the relentless advance of the mechanical horde.
The battle that ensued was a dance of death and deft maneuvering. Lucien, calling upon his arcane mastery, conjured flames that bathed the Dwarven Spiders in a scorching inferno, their metallic bodies heating rapidly, gears whining in protest before seizing up and falling still. Serana's ice storms raged, the Dwarven Spheres' movements becoming sluggish as frost formed over their joints, hindering their lethal precision.
Together, they fought back-to-back, a symphony of fire and ice. Lucien's incantations echoed through the halls, a stark reminder of the ruin's lost glory, while Serana's vampiric ferocity ad arcane mastery was a sight to behold; her spells casting a spectral light that played off the walls, leaving dancing eerie black marionettes waving along the wall's rough surface. The Dwarven constructs, relentless in their programmed duty, continued their assault, but the two companions were undeterred, their resolve as strong as the magic they wielded.
As the last of the Dwarven Spheres ground to a halt, its inner workings both frozen and charred, the silence that followed was profound. Serana and Lucien, breathing heavily from the exertion, shared a look of mutual respect. They had survived the ambush through their combined strength and cunning, a testament to their skills and the indomitable spirit of adventurers who dare to delve into the mysteries of the ancient Dwemer.
"I can see why you were named the Master Wizard to succeed Mirabelle." Lucien admitted, expressing his astonishment at Serana's prowess.
Serana nodded. "You've grown a lot yourself, Lucien. I'll admit it; you've become a fine Wizard."
Lucien waved it off, "Oh, pshaw! I'll bet you say that to all the young mages."
"No, I don't." Serana corrected him as she retrieved soul gems from the husks of their fallen mechanical foes. "You know me; I'm not the sort of girl to just hand out praise. You have to earn it from me. In this case... you have."
Lucien's lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk. "Oh? I'm sorry, Serana; I couldn't quite hear you over the sounds of the churning pinions, grinding gears and hissing steam. Would you care to repeat it?"
Serana slowly shook her head and chuckled at his cocky attitude. "Not happening."
"Aw." Lucien pouted.
"I would have liked to see cities like this, when they were still more normal, at least. Now, their only population consists of these automatons." Serana sighed as she looked at the metal scraps lining the floor. "Really, what happened to the Dwemer? It still puzzles me to this day."
"Perhaps we'll never get a definitive answer," Lucien began. "but perhaps we don't need one. Speculation in its purest form makes up the backbone of research."
As the pair continued to push on through the darkness, they were on high alert. Lucien relied on Serana's vampiric eyesight to know where to walk without springing any potential traps that could be present. The last thing he needed right now was to be torn to shreds by a conniving propellor blade.
"So, Lucien." Serana beckoned backwards to her astute ally. "As an Imperial, I must say... your Cyrodiilic Brandy truly is something else."
Lucien chuckled. "How would you know that? Weren't you trapped on an isolated island for the majority of your life?"
"I... would rather not say, if that's alright." Serana dismissed the notion and grew silent before denying herself. "Well... ugh. Just because it's you, I'll make an exception."
"Oh, flattering. Do go on! I love me some juicy gossip." Lucien responded playfully as he turned a sharp corner.
"My mother had to leave the island for some urgent business one day, so I snuck into her laboratory. You know, to create some potions, test out some necromancy, fiddle around with things I really wasn't supposed to..." Serana said it with practiced nonchalance, which prompted Lucien to chuckle. She continued, "But one thing did catch my eye - that brandy. I didn't really consider why she even had it there. I just decided to take a small sip. It truly tasted like something else, so I decided to finish the entire bottle in one swig. I absolutely loved it."
When Lucien began to giggle, she clarified; "I was already a vampire at this point though, so don't worry - I didn't pass out, vomit, or anything like that. But when my mother did come home though, she was angry. Most definitely. She said it costed a premium, and that it was meant to be a token gift to one of the newer members of my father's court. And as punishment, I got janitorial duties around the castle for the better part of the month. And even as a vampire, to me... that felt like a long time."
Lucien responded, "Perhaps your being a vampire inclined you towards... shall we say... habits of overindulgence where drinking is concerned?"
Before Serana could respond, they both heard an eerie voice in the air, whispering; warning. "Turn back... this place will be the death of you."
Lucien scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Please, like I haven't heard that before. Sorry, eerie voice, but I have become well acquainted with many places that promised to 'be the death of me.'" He was already well amused by his and Serana's utter demolition of the Dwemer machinations, and emboldened by years of victory over worse odds.
Serana nodded in agreement with Lucien on this one. They lived through Labyrinthian; through her Family's onslaught. A Dwemer Ruin analogous to all the others? Not an issue.
In the shadowed depths of Arkngthamz, Serana and Lucien found themselves in a cavernous expanse that spoke of ancient grandeur and long-forgotten calamities. The sky opened above them, a rare sight in these subterranean halls, casting a dim light that glimmered off the rushing river that split the chamber. They stood on a ledge, the near side lower than its opposite, which boasted remnants of Falmer architecture, a testament to the area's violent history. Lucien recognized it immediately. "Huh. Right, of course the Falmer would be here, too...I do hope their brethren told them about the Dragonborn's friends."
"If not, we'll have to kill them, unfortunately." Serana sighed. She would take no pleasure in it, but she certainly was not going to let herself be killed either.
To their right, a set of stairs beckoned them upwards to a platform overlooking the abyss, where the air was thick with the scent of rust and decay. The edge of this open area revealed the fractured bones of the fortress, where a bridge might have once proudly stood, now reduced to rubble and memories. The path forward was precarious - a fallen stone pillar served as a makeshift bridge, its end resting on an earthen column that held a grim beauty, a dead body marking the passage of time and the dangers that lurk within these walls. However, the body looked fairly fresh, belonging to a Nordic woman with brown hair, and a book laying beside her unmoving, blackened fingers.
As Lucien approached close enough to see her, he clicked his tongue sadly. "Damn shame."
The roar of a waterfall filled the chamber, a powerful force of nature that has carved its way through stone and time alike. To the left, the water cascades down with relentless power, feeding the river that courses under the wall to their right. Serana and Lucien pause, the weight of history pressing upon them, the silence of the chamber punctuated only by the rush of water and the distant echoes of their own footsteps.
Lucien quickly spotted a tattered journal with a leather-bound cover and lifted it up to read it:
"Katria's Journal
by Katria
Research notes about the location of an ancient Dwemer forge
17th of Sun's Height
Damn that scheming elf! Damn him! He steals my notes, my discovery, and publishes it under his name! Twenty years of my life spent digging through those ruins, and what do I get? A dedication? 'Friend and Colleague' my arse. He's just mocking me!
Well, I'll have the last laugh. Taron may have my theory, but he doesn't have any proof, not yet. If I can find the Forge first, I can show the world this is my discovery. Mine, not his!
4th of Last Seed
I've got a lead. One of the moldy old books in Mzund mentioned the Forge. Ruined through and through, but I was able to copy down a few scraps, including a map of the first-era Dwemer kingdoms. Need to cross-reference it with modern borders when I get back.
[At the end of the page, a scribbled map of Skyrim is pictured with various marked locations circled in red, from the top left corner counter-clockwise beginning from Markarth and ending nearer to northeast of High Hrothgar approximately, reading |02, 01, 05, 40, and 30]
Here's the result:
1 - Arkngthamz
This one, 'Arkngthamz', was on the inscription, too. Apparently the main Aetherium research center. Seems like the place to start.
2 -
Mentioned as a 'Bthar-zel' ('allied city'?). Not Bthardamz, though. Looks like a smaller site, north or northwest of there, on the river.
3 -
The primary source of Aetherium. Extracted from some deeper mine?
4 -
A storage site for raw Aetherium, just outside a major city. Apparently, it had to be kept outside because the Aetherium was 'harmonically volatile'.
5 -
No name, no identifying information, but page after page of ruined diagrams. Couldn't make out much, but it looks like - an astrolabe, a gear, some sort of crest in four pieces? Could this be the location of the Forge? Something important, at least.
22nd of Last Seed
Arkngthamz. My map may be rough, but it was enough to get me here. There may be something to this after all.
23rd of Last Seed
Reached the Treasury. There's a Tonal Lock here, still active. Judging from the corpses, it's safe to say the traps are still active, too.
Couldn't find any clues, so I'll make a sketch and work through this carefully. Five Resonators. Five tones. Just have to hit them in the right order. Let's see...
[At the very final page, an image is sketched in rows showcasing variations of a stone doorway with an ornate metal door knocker at the center. On the top row, the door knockers are designed to resemble a human face, complete with eyes, nose, and mouth, where the knocker is held. he middle panel stands out with a face that has an elongated tongue-like structure sticking out from the mouth of the knocker. The other two panels in this row have red crosses over them, suggesting they are incorrect choices or options. On the middle row, the left panel is marked with a red number "1", possibly indicating the first correct selection. The other two panels are unmarked but feature the same intricate design of the face-shaped knocker. On the final row, the right switch panel is marked with a red number "2", likely indicating the second correct selection. The other two panels are unmarked.]"
"Sigh... What are you still doing here? Let me guess. You're here for the treasure, aren't you? Just like all the others." the same whispering wind spoke once more, a silent omen emerging from behind them. The air was suddenly pierced by the silent but unmistakable presence of the ghost of Katria. Without a sound to herald her arrival, she materialized behind them, her form coalescing from the very ether of the ruin's charged atmosphere. The moment was surreal; the spectral figure stood suspended in time, her visage crestfallen and filled with disappointment.
Lucien, with his back turned, felt a chill creep down his spine before he even laid eyes on her. It was as if the temperature had plummeted, and the very air around him whispered of the supernatural occurrence unfolding just out of sight. Serana, sensing the shift in the arcane currents, turned gracefully, her vampire senses attuned to the presence of the departed. As Lucien turned to follow Serana's gaze, his scholarly curiosity clashed with a primal fear of the unknown. His breath caught in his throat as he beheld Katria, her ghostly form a pale light in the shadowy ruin.
For a moment, no one spoke; the silence was a heavy shroud, only the distant drip of water and the soft hum of ancient machinery filled the void. Katria's eyes, reflecting a wisdom and sorrow only the dead know, met theirs with an intensity that belied her ethereal nature. Her appearance was not menacing, but the suddenness of it, the stark reminder of mortality and the unseen world, was enough to unnerve even a seasoned adventurer like Lucien. "What in Stendarr's name?!" the Imperial spouted as his eyes darted between the cadaver and the entity before him. The face of the body was rotted, and yet, it still bore the resemblance to the ghost before him. Many bodies have been seen in ruins; skeletal remains, fresh corpses, and none have had souls attached to them. This was a surprise, indeed.
The ghost of Katria, once a renowned adventurer and now bound to the very ruins that had claimed her life, regarded the pair with a mixture of relief and urgency. Her message was of great importance, not just to her own restless spirit, but potentially to the very fabric of Skyrim's history. Lucien, recovering from the initial shock, stepped forward with a respectful nod, his mind alight with questions and theories.
Serana, ever composed, offered a supportive glance to her companion, her own experiences with the supernatural allowing her a greater understanding of their spectral guide. She cleared her throat. "Who are you?"
Katria's voice, when she finally spoke, was like the rustle of dead leaves, a sound that seemed both part of the ruins and apart from them. "The name's Katria. I am - was - an adventurer. Raided ruins like this for nigh on twenty years. I was on the trail of something big. It led me here, and... I didn't make it."
Lucien cleared his throat. "You were in search of Aetherium, too."
"I spent my life tracking down that legend... until my damn apprentice stole everything from me, and published it all under his own name. And now... now I can't rest. Not until I have proof. Something to show the world what I discovered, what I did. That my life... mattered. But... it's hopeless. I died here, just like all the others." Katria warned desperately, "Turn back. Turn back before you become the next victim."
Lucien shook his head. "Even if I wanted to, I can't. I sort of made a promise. I mean, we can handle ourselves."
"Hmph... maybe so. Then again, I thought I could, too." Katria scoffed at his hubris and massaged her brow. "I'm not going to talk you out of it, am I? I know, I know. I was just like you, once. Well, if you want to reach the summit, you're going to need some help. You... want a hand?"
Lucien and Serana exchanged glances, figuring that perhaps Katria knew more about the place than they did. She could make for a good navigator. "All right. Lead on, then." Serana said.
Katria nodded. "Thank you, for giving me a chance with this."
Serana nodded. "Of course. Maybe we can help you find the closure you need to move on from this place."
Lucien nodded in unison with Serana. "I must ask, having my Scholar wheel turning now... What happened to this place?"
"It wasn't always like this. Best-preserved dwarven city I'd ever laid eyes on. And then... the earthquake hit. Now... you'd be lucky to find a single room intact." Katria lamented the misfortune of the wrecked domain around them.
Serana inquired, "Any dangers we should be aware of?" Besides steep falls, of course.
"Well, there's the Falmer, to start with. Deadly rapids. Major earthquakes. Massive chasms. Unstable ground. Lethal falls. And then you get to the real danger. We can discuss that when the time comes. If it comes." Katria recounted the hazardous underworld sharply.
Lucien cleared his throat. "Forgive me if this seems inappropriate to ask, but... how did you die?" he assumed by the blood splatter drying under her body that perhaps it was a fatal impact of sorts.
"I... fell. When the earthquake hit... The ground just... opened up. Even so, I almost made it... another foot or two to the side, and the water would have broken my fall. But... nothing I could do." She looked down upon her body which lay there, rotting for some time now. "...this is where I ended up. It was... quite the fall. Grab my journal, would you? We're going to need it."
"Already have it," Lucien waved the leather-bound book in his right hand, presenting it. "I take it we're going to see something further inside related to these illustrations, aren't we? I'm quite the note-taker, myself. I am a scholar from the Imperial City, by the way. Lucien Flavius is the name. And this is my friend, Serana; Master Wizard of the College of Winterhold."
Serana bowed her head respectfully. "It's nice to meet you, Katria. Let's focus on getting through this, okay?"
In the harrowing depths of the Dwarven ruins, the trio, comprised now of Serana, Lucien Flavius, and the spectral presence of Katria embarked through the forgotten world. Their path was a labyrinth of corroded pipes and rushing waters, leading them through the remnants of a civilization long past. They navigated the treacherous currents to a ledge strewn with the carcasses of many mechanical arachnids and automatons, broken and battered by the collapsed ceilings from the earthquake Katria had mentioned.
As they surged onwards, their path was illuminated only by the bioluminescent glow of mushrooms clinging to ancient stone. They navigated past a tent, the river's whisper guiding them eastward, then south along the wall, where the eerie silence was broken by the rustling of Falmer emerging from their hives. A bridge, crafted from Dwemer stone, arched over the abyss, leading north, but their attention was drawn to the south by Katria's keen eye spotting a chest behind a sealed gate. "Look, there's a chest in there. Door's sealed tight, though...".
"A chest, eh? Won't be sealed for long." Lucien declared with curiosity riddling his chest with excitement.
The gate, impervious to their efforts, prompted a clever detour. Descending ledges to a waterlogged tunnel, they entered a verdant chamber, a stark contrast to the cold metal and stone. Here, nature reclaimed its dominion, with moss draping over earthen ramps and the gentle flow of water carving its way through the ruin. The remnants of Dwemer automatons, a centurion and a spider, lay defeated, a testament to the ruin's treacherous guardians. A Dwarven scuttle, once a passage for machines, now released a formidable sphere, which they laid to ruin with sword and sorcery.
Victorious, they ascended the ramp, reaching the chest that sparked their detour. A lever, hidden in plain sight, granted them passage back across the gate. With a cautionary word, they left their fears behind, wary of the dangers that lie ahead. Katria, bound by ethereal tethers, found herself momentarily trapped by the gate's machinations, but a swift closure and reopening caused the barrier to subside, allowing the dead woman entry.
Before they entered the next half of the chamber, Katria sneered. "Falmer up ahead. Damn things are like flies. No matter how many you kill..." she punched her fists together and shook her head at the thought of the nuisance.
Their journey continued across the bridge, where paths diverged. To the right, a Falmer hive loomed, its inhabitant poised for ambush, but they pressed on, hidden, and undeterred. Katria's ghostly bow silently took out the blind mutated elf. To the left, the ascent resumed, their steps echoing through the chamber, a symphony of resilience and determination.
The westward waters concealed a ramp, ascending past the fallen body of the Falmer, its life extinguished in the gloom. This path culminated in a dead end, guarded by an ancient Dwarven chest, its lock a mere memory. Lucien opened it to find quite a number of precious Dwarven metal Ingots and Flawless gems which he grabbed like they were going out of style. Serana herself grabbed a Flawless Sapphire so Lucien would not be the only benefactor on this day here.
As they continued onwards, they came upon another lush area with much moss and grass covering, surrounded by running water with a massive crater causing the ravine to cascade. Katria's eyes widened and she jabbed her finger through the air, gesturing to an object wedged between some of the moss-coated stones. "Here's where I fell. Feels like ages ago. Hey there's my bow! There, out on the log. Wondered what happened to it."
Lucien walked down a couple of stones, cautious of the hole torn through the earth as he made way towards it. He reached for the gold Dwarven bow, and read the name etched into the metal. "Zephyr. Huh."
Katria smiled with nostalgia. "Take good care of it for me." she requested bittersweetly, her eyes glistening with unspoken memories and lost hopes.
Lucien admitted, "I... don't really do Archery, but a very good friend of mine is the greatest marksman I have ever known. Perhaps I will give it to him."
Katria nodded, "It doesn't really matter; I just want it to be of good use to someone. A part of me will live on even when I've moved on."
Lucien smiled and ensured her, "Katria, the world will someday remember Zephyr as being the Bow used by Inigo the Brave, gifted to him by Katria. You have my word."
"Thank you." Katria expressed her gratitude, before adding, "it's funny. When I named it Zephyr, I suppose I was trying to channel Kynareth to my aid, sort of likening it to the story of Bourlor. It... didn't quite work out for me, though. Maybe Inigo will have better luck."
Retracing their steps to Katria's mortal remains, they traversed another pipe, arriving at a small tunnel. Here lay another victim of the ruins, another poor Falmer, its existence snuffed out amidst the darkness. Hidden beneath the metal grating underfoot, a concealed space offered up its treasures: Dwarven ingots and the heart of a centurion, a dynamo core. The adventurers pressed on, ascending the leakking pipe once more, only to be ambushed by Dwarven spiders emerging from their metallic hive. The confrontation was swift, yet it heralded the entrance to a submerged chamber, where the water's embrace enveloped all but the pipes crisscrossing above.
Ahead, the remnants of another sphere lay defaced. Beneath the surface, in the northeastern shadows, they discovered another chest, its contents unclaimed. With determination, they scaled a pipe, winding upwards, leading them to a passage in the northwestern expanse. Each step was a testament to their resolve, a dance with the echoes of history, as they delved deeper into the heart of the ruins, where the past whispered and the adventure unfolded with each breath of the damp, ancient air. Their journey was not merely a trek through physical space but a voyage across time, touching the essence of the Dwarven legacy.
"It really is a shame, what happened to this place." Lucien commented solemnly as he walked through the decrepit ruins. "Serana, what you said earlier, I agree. I wish we could have seen this place in its prime."
"Resonators. Of course."
"You know what these are?" Katria was both surprised and impressed in equal measure.
"I have spent my life wanting to learn more about the Dwemer," Lucien boasted. "of course I know what Kinetic Resonators are! I've never seen them, granted, but I have a pretty good idea about how they function. You need to strike them with magic or a projectile, and they spin."
Katria nodded. "You have done your homework." she gestured towards the mechanism, and the second one parallel to it. "I leave it to you, then, Mr. Expert."
Serana looked at Lucien, "You take the left and I'll take the right."
Lucien nodded. "Done."
The first resonator, once struck, ceased its descent, silencing the cacophony of metal that has echoed through the halls for millennia. Once the second one was struck, the mechanisms ceased and the gate was forced open. Beyond the gate, a flight of stairs ascended, leading to a skewed passage that hinted further at the disarray that befell this subterranean world - the majority impassable due to collapsed architecture. Another set of stairs revealed itself, patrolled by a Falmer, which a Fireball displaced.
The adventurers pressed on, ascending to the far side of a grand chamber, bisected by a river that coursed through with relentless force. Emerging at the top, they found themselves on the precipice of a descent, with a second Falmer pacing the area, ever watchful, though unseeing. To the right, a tent held treasures unclaimed; more jewels and ingots, guarded only by a simple lock that yielded to their touch. To the left, another Falmer roamed, its gaze cast over the abyss, unaware of the fate that awaited it.
Lucien's sword tore through its back before it could reach around with its poisoned sword and cut him, and it slid off the blade and fell, cast into the abyss below like a dewdrop.
The room, heavy with the weight of ancient puzzles, held the remnants of those who sought to unravel its secrets before them. Four skeletons, now mere vessels for a few scattered coins, lay as testament to the dangers that lurk within these ancient stone walls. Among them, the remains of a Dwarven sphere and a fallen adventurer, his body riddled with Dwarven arrows, spoke of a brutal battle waged and lost. The adventurer's last possession, a scrap of paper, offered additional hints to the tonal lock puzzle, complementing the clues etched in Katria's journal, her words a beacon in the dim light.
Lucien and Katria looked over her journal as Serana held up the additional piece of paper. "I guess they must have been academics, too." she wondered.
On the scrap of paper, there were three blotches of black ink, canceling out a few of the images on Katria's journal's illustration, and the number "3" was written in the top center, and "2" on the bottom righthand corner. Lucien slipped the new piece of instruction between the pages of the journal, mirroring Katria's notes.
"I had a feeling it was probably 3." Katria shrugged. "Glad to know my intuition was right, even if my head wasn't on straight..."
Serana's gaze fell upon a fifth skeleton, impaled by a massive ballista bolt, which served as a grim marker beneath the stone square arch. Though its bones were beyond reach, the story they told was clear - a tale of sudden end and unyielding force. Cura told her once what it was like being impaled by a Dwarven Ballista Bolt - it sounded horrific. In the end, she was glad Cura had not succumbed to such a fate as this in Nchuand-Zel.
Nearby, an earthen ramp and a sturdy column suggested a path not taken by those who came before. With careful steps and a leap of faith, Serana and Lucien ascended the arch, their eyes set on the prize that lay beyond. Katria followed them closely, keeping her wits about her; her keen senses as an adventurer carried them through the odd Dwarven metal catacombs as they were, and together, they moved ever closer to the heart of the mystery, where each step forward was a step deeper into the past, a dance with history and the echoes of those who walked these paths before. The air was thickening with the dust of untold ages, and the silence was broken only by the sound of their footsteps and the distant, mechanical hum of dormant machinery, waiting to be awakened. In this place where the past and present converged, Serana, Lucien, and Katria were uniquely bound by the quest for knowledge and the thrill of discovery.
"An Aetherium Shard." Lucien wondered. "I wonder what it will look like..."
"Like something out of this world, I'm sure." Serana teased him with the obvious, prompting a scoff from the Imperial scholar.
"Gosh. How unthinkable." Lucien responded dryly.
Their journey was fraught with ancient mechanisms and puzzles that tested their wit and resolve. The key to their progress lay in the manipulation of five kinetic resonators, which required precise ranged attacks to activate the tonal locks lining the wall.
"Hold up... we need to talk. I mentioned that there was one more danger. Here it is. You know what this is? It's a Tonal Lock. Simple, and very, very deadly. See the Resonators up there? Strike them in the right order, and the doors should open. Get it wrong, and... well. You've seen what happened when I tried it." Katria explained with a hint of surfacing trauma.
Lucien's brows raised quickly at the assertion. "You mean... the earthquake?"
"...Yeah. I thought I was prepared for anything. How can you prepare for a damned earthquake? And that was just one trap! Look around! Who knows what else this thing is capable of?" She gestured towards the massive, foreboding mechanism adorned with a Dwarven bust and surrounded by Kinetic Resonators, reminiscent of the sketches in her journal.
"Any advice?" Serana asked the deceased explorer.
"Hmm... well, you can pick up where I left off. My notes should still be in my journal, if you can read it." Katria tapped Lucien on the shoulder.
"Your handwriting is clear enough." Lucien responded, studying the image, and comparing it to the paper scrap he found on the skeleton earlier. The sequence of these strikes was crucial; a single misstep could unleash mechanical monstrosities programmed to guard the Dwemer's secrets. Initially, the incorrect sequence would release a swarm of Dwarven mechanisms, no doubt.
Lucien pondered his options and put his faith in the papers before him, and he silently prayed, "Julianos, keep my head above the water here. The correct sequence - lower left, lower right, upper left, upper right, lower middle - should reveal the path forward." he said as he ran his finger along the image, following the numerical sequence.
"Gods, I hope it's right." Serana muttered. "If we die here, I am definitely going to kill you."
"Noted." Lucien wiped some sweat off his brow and he stepped forward. "No pressure at all." He readied a fireball and eyed the lower left resonator. He glanced over at the normally-calm Serana, who was showing visible signs of worry.
Their short partnership, though strong, was tested as the stakes of their quest became clear. Each resonator strike was a moment of truth, a test of their combined knowledge and intuition. The wrong order could spell disaster, not just in the form of mechanical adversaries, but in the potential rift it could cause between them. The pressure to perform perfectly was immense, and with each resonator's tone, their resolve was challenged.
Katria clapped her hands excitedly as the resonators seemed to communicate to one another harmoniously. "That's it..."
Lucien's usually calm demeanor was strained, his usual confidence replaced by a palpable anxiety as he second-guessed each decision. Serana's stoic facade showed cracks as well, her usual coolness giving way to flashes of concern, her eyes betraying the gravity of their task.
"Keep going..." Katria beckoned Lucien to continue, and he channeled another fireball.
The ghosts of the Dwemer, though long gone, seemed to whisper through the halls, mocking their efforts and heightening the tension between the two. Yet, it was this very tension that honed their focus, forced them to communicate with precision, and rely on one another's strengths. Serana held the book nearby, reminding him of which resonator preceded the next.
Finally, the onslaught culminated with Lucien striking the lower middle. A loud hiss sent shockwaves through the chamber, causing the trio to stand on edge, until a shifting noise in the western quarter accepted their results and allowed them entry through the gates which pulled open for them.
"Got it!" Katria exclaimed with excitement of the ages.
Lucien exhaled with relief. "Gaaahhh...! I can't believe that worked!"
Serana gently patted him on the back. "Good job, Lucien - I won't lie, I was terrified, there. Being swarmed by mechanisms was not on my itinerary today."
With the gates open, the threat of additional Dwarven automatons was nullified, allowing the trio to proceed with caution towards their prize. This intricate dance of precision and timing exemplified the cunning required to navigate the dangers of the ruins and laid bare the ingenuity of the Dwemer's engineering. Their path was lit by the faint glow of the Aetherium Shard, a fragment of lost knowledge and power. As they navigated the labyrinthine tunnels, they encountered the remnants of the Dwarven civilization: chests filled with artifacts untouched by time, shelves laden with metal items forged by long-forgotten techniques, and the dormant cores of centurion dynamos, silent witnesses to the ingenuity of the Dwemer.
The trio's journey was not just a treasure hunt but a dance with history, each step a deeper plunge into the enigmatic culture of the Dwemer. The unlocked chests presented not only loot but also a puzzle, a question of how such wealth could be left unguarded, and what that implied about the confidence and capabilities of its creators. The various items they collected were more than mere metal; they were pieces of a narrative, fragments of a civilization that thrived on innovation and engineering prowess. Lucien was intent on bringing as much of it as he could back to Riften. And he would certainly call upon Sorine Jurard and Arniel Gane for the task at hand: bringing the Dwemer's world back to life in their war with the Daedra.
"So this is it..." Katria came up from behind the partners as they approached the shard.
Lucien and Serana beheld the Aetherium Shard with awe: a crescent slice of blue metal, glowing a bright cyan. With wide eyes Lucien gawked at the mysterious metal. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before on Nirn.
Growing impatient, Katria snapped at them. "Well don't just stand there!" she gestured towards the enigmatic metal before them, signaling for them to take it.
Serana stepped backwards. "Lucien, I think you'd be better off handling it."
"Why? You want me to do all the heavy lifting?" the Imperial laughed at her as he picked it up.
"Don't be cute. It carries the essence of Aetherius. I'm a Vampire. You do the math." Serana reminded him. Even if she was on better terms with the gods now, she still would rather not chance anything if she doesn't have to.
"So, it is real..." Katria ran her ghostly finger along the side of the metal shard. "Let me see it. ...Huh... Look on the edge here. This has been cut, precisely cut. If you had another piece, about the same size, it would... it would snap right in. I saw a drawing of this once. This shard... it's... it's part of a key. A key made of pure aetherium! The key to the forge!"
"Part of the key...? Then I gather that there are more we need to find." Lucien responded dryly.
"Naturally." Katria said plainly. "There should be, hmm... three more. One for each of the cities that worked on the Forge. I had a map in my journal. That's where we should start."
"Oh, goody. A Macguffin search. Just what I always wanted." Lucien scoffed. "Reminds me of the Elder Scroll search. Remember, Serana?"
"Ironically, also involving a Dwemer Ruin." Serana added, reminding him.
"Okay, so we find the other shards. Then what?" Lucien asked.
"We still have to find the Forge itself. I had a lead on that, too. There's so much to do. I'm going to head out and start tracking things down. We'll meet again, I'm sure of it." Katria assured the two of them. Her eyes and tone softened, and a smile found its way onto her morose face. "For the first time in a long while, I think I - we - may actually be able to do this. And... and I owe it all to you. Thank you."
Lucien smiled, "You're welcome, Katria."
Serana added, "We'll see you again soon. Take care."
Katria nodded, and said. "No; you two take care. Don't fear for the dead; fear for the living."
As they moved through the ruins, the water in the western chamber beckoned them towards a hidden passage, promising a swift return to the main chamber. Yet, this shortcut was not without its risks, as the perilous drop to the waters below could spell doom for the unwary or the unlucky. It was a stark reminder that the ruins were indifferent to the lives of explorers, that the achievements of the Dwemer were not without their dangers.
The ghost of Katria, formerly bound to the ruins by her unfinished quest, served as both guide and cautionary tale. Her presence was a constant echo of the past, a voice that spoke of ambition, loss, and the relentless pursuit of knowledge; and she would call upon them again at a later time. As they backtracked to the entrance, the weight of their discoveries hung heavy upon them. They emerged from the ruins not just as adventurers who had braved the unknown but as bearers of the legacy of the Dwemer, tasked with ensuring that the echoes of the past would continue to resonate in the future. Their journey was a testament to the enduring allure of the ancient world and the timeless quest for understanding that drives all who dare to delve into the secrets of the forgotten.