Private The Secret of the Dwemers

[Kimrisvik]

There has been much talking of a newly discovered Dwemer ruin east of Markarth, close to the border to High Rock. Since many of the explorers who have entered the ruins has either never been seen again, or returned speechless and extremly scared of everything, Jarl Igmund decided to keep it's exact location secret.
____________________________________________________________________________________
The night has fallen over Skyrim. Nirn's twin moons makes the cold winter night seem a little warmer. Kyensgrove's mineworkers has drawn back from the mines, and have gone to the small village's Inn, Braidwood. Braidwood is usually a lively place at night, since the miners and passing adventurers often rent rooms for the night and drinks together.
This night it's unusually many people in Braidwood, and the talking is very loud. A Nord in shiny armor enters the tavern. It's Garren Rivers, a traveling sellsword. The conversations stopped as he walked towards the bar. "What can i get for you, kinsman?" The bartender asks. Garren searches his pocket, and takes out 150 golden septims. "Your finest drink, please." The bartender nods and hands him a bottle of firebrand wine. Garren walks over to a empty table at the far corner of the tavern. Everybody is still watching him in silent. "Never seen a knight before, eh?" Nobody answers, but instead restarts their conversations. Garren sits down and notice a Nord still looking at him from the bar, and lifts his bottle as a greeting.

 

[Aerin]

The tavern was found wanting. There seemed no promise of a bar fight or lecherous drunk with which to argue tonight. It seemed that her stop in Kynesgrove might turn out uneventful. Taking a large gulp of ale Elsa hung her tired head in her hands, the warmth of the alcohol having already spread through her body, leaving her mind feeling comfortably slow. The aged bar beneath her elbow was worn down, though a few splinters poked and scratched at the skin of her exposed forearms as she shifted in her seat. The inn was filled with gentle murmurs and conversations between patrons, the thief's ears trained to eavesdrop and listen in on nearby gossip in hopes of finding a lead for more work. It seemed however that the people of Eastmarch had little to talk of besides the Stormcloak rebellion and Jarl Ulfric's stirring words. Elsa huffed a small laugh at nothing in particular. Jarl Ulfric, now wasn't he an interesting fellow? He probably had a fair few trinkets and prizes to be had in that dreadful palace of his. Not that she would even venture near it, the entire city of Windhelm was damned in her eyes. Full of racists and fools, it was not a place that was worth her time.

A blast of chilled air reached the backs of her arms and legs as another traveller entered the tavern. The sound of armour clinking and knocking together seemed to hush the crowd, heads turning to glance at the intruder. Elsa paid no mind at first, she often found the people of these roadside towns to be starved of new faces and interesting tales of adventure. Word got around faster than a woodfire in the peak of summer, so whoever had caught everyone's attention would probably be the centre of attention for the rest of the week.

Of course, when the visitor handed over such a generous amount of gold, Elsa's curiosity was won. Looking up from her drink she watched with a wry smile as he set about purchasing a drink and quelling the tavern's inquiry, taking himself away to enjoy his drink alone in the corner of the inn. As the rest of the patrons returned to their conversations Elsa couldn't help but laugh. The knight knew how to make an entrance, that much could be said. She hardly realised she was still watching him until he raised his bottle to her, the thief quickly returning the gesture with her tankard of ale. Licking her lips she flexed her fingers gently, her mind working fast as she decided this could be her lead. Judging by his armour he wasn't much more than a sell-sword, but then again hadn't she always found herself in the most entertaining situations when she worked with mercenaries and blades-for-hire? Hopping elegantly off her stool she walked over to the knight with quiet assurance in her step, not even bothering to ask permission before finding herself a seat beside the stranger. "You look like you want some company, and I'm looking for some interesting conversation. So. What brings such a potentially fascinating person like you to such a dull place like this?"

 

[Kimrisvik]

Garren took one more look at the northern woman he'd just greeted. She was now walking towards him. "Of cource" He thought to him self, but he had to smile. This was maybe the kind of person he came here to meet. He followed her with his eyes until she sat down beside him. She did'nt look like she was much older than 20, but judging by the scar on the left side of her face, she'd probably had some experience in battle.

He kept looking at her. "You look like you want some company, and I'm looking for some interesting conversation. So. What brings such a potentially fascinating person like you to such a dull place like this?" She asked. Garren laughed shortly. "I never say no to the company of such a fine woman as you." He took a sip from his wine before he contiued. "I'm just here looking for company on an adventure I'm going on. And thats actually quite interesting. Because I've heard some rumors about a newly discovered Dwemer ruin close to High Rock." He took one more sip, and streched out his arm. "Name's Garren by the way. Garren Rivers."

 

[Aerin]

Elsa raised an eyebrow at the man's response, her fingers gently tapping against the handle of her mug as she listened closely. His talk of a dwarven ruin did give her pause for thought. While the sound of a newly discovered ruin did sound appealing, she hd to admit she was always hesitant when it came to dwarven history and what remained of their culture.

"Dwarven ruins? We're talking big hulking metal men that breathe steam and those nasty little metal spiders right?" Elsa shook her head as she took a sip of her ale. "Divines I hate those places. Give me a nordic tomb to plunder any day. Those dwarves were sly little bastards. Too clever for their own good. Of course I do have a way of finding trouble at every turn...probably because I can't say no to adventures like yours." Smiling easily at Garren she tipped her head in greeting, shaking his offered hand. "I'm Elsa the Fleet. Best not to ask how I got that nickname, could be a tale for another time. All you need to know is that you probably want me on your trip, if not for my skill with a bow then my ill-timed one-liners and sunny outlook on life." Winking cheekily the thief began to wonder what secrets might be hidden in this tomb should she be invited to join. It had been a while since she had ventured into a dwarven ruin. Too many traps and metal monsters lurked, waiting to ensnare foolish travellers and bandits. Of course, there would be many items worth a vast fortune hidden in the depths which could set her up for quite some time.

 

[Kimrisvik]

Garren laughed calmly to Elsa's answer. "Yes, I'm talking about those so called creators of armors that can walk by them self. But I think this ruin is different. You see. Nobody really know whats lurking in the dark caves. Those who came back seemed to have lost their ability of speaking." He shivered just by the thought. The last thing he wanted, was to end up as a mute the rest of his days.

He took a long pause emptying his winebottle. He enjoyed watching the poor mineworkers drink their cheap mead, while he sat there enjoying one of Skyrims finest drinks. He gave sign to the bartender to bring he and his new friend one bottle each. The bartender came with the bottles, and Garren handed her a small bag of coins. He now turned back to Elsa. "Best wine I know." Smiling gently to her. "So you want to join me, eh? I'm not stupid enough to go there alone, so i apreciate someone to join me. But we'll still need more, for all we know, we can run into a horde of those legendary Falmers. Creepy creatures that, blind and twisted. So. Are you in?" He looked her straight into her eyes.

 

[Delusional]

The moonlight beamed across the barren landscape of Eastmarch, illuminating the worn cobblestone path that stretched out for miles. The road was well overgrown with shriveled roots and dehydrated, dying shrubs that somehow survived in the wasteland that the people of Skyrim liked to call 'Eastmarch'.

Marcus was in no hurry, sauntering down the well tread path at a mild pace. He had caught word of a Nordic barrow that was unexplored far in the north, and was on him way to investigate, and perhaps if the conditions were right, delve right into it. He could barely contain his excitement, it had been too long since he had explored a good Nordic ruin.

An inn came into view, nestled in the sparse treeline, resting on a hill to the right of the path.

Ah, yes! Lodging. I was afraid I would have to stay the night in that awful hellhole of a city, Windhelm, Marcus thought happily as he quickened his pace, growing tired from the long journey, and ready for a drink. He was in the mood for a flagon of steaming, spiced wine. Mmm, that would be good.

He started on the path that branched off from the main road, and led up the hill. He gently slid the dark brown hood off of his messy, long black hair and let it drop to frame the back of his neck. He looked down at his aged armor, and attempted to brush off the dust that had made it's home on the dark brown leather.

He reached the door of the inn, and squinted to read the name of the building. Braidwood Inn, alright. Let's hope they have some fine drink. Maybe a woman or two, too. With that thought, he shouldered the door open lightly and was greeted by the inviting, warm orange glow of the hearth that lay in the center of the inn.

Marcus gently closed the door behind him and headed straight for the bar. He glanced around him, taking in his surroundings. There are quite a lot of patrons here... Marcus fell onto an aged bar stool, and rested his elbows on the oak bar. He pulled his coin purse out from inside his armor, and reached in to withdraw a few shimmering septims before tucking the purse back into his garment.

"Could I have a hot spiced wine?" Marcus asked the bartender, who nodded and slid the gold coins into his hand before turning to prepare Marcus' drink.

The Imperial brought a hand up to his face and slowly rubbed his eyes. Sleep would come quick, he could tell. He could not wait to be off to bed. He still had a lot of ground to cover.

A light thud woke Marcus back up, and he noticed the bartender had set a flagon of wine in front of him. He could see the steam rising from the top of the container, and he grabbed it, enjoying the warmth of the mug. He raised it to his cracked lips and began to drink, the spiced wine slowly trickling from the flagon down his throat, heating his insides.

 

[CapObvious]

Carenen sat back in his seat, enjoying a nice, well deserved stop from his work. He scanned over the patrons, watching as they talked among themselves and drank their mead. He didn't mind all of the merriment. As long as they left him alone, he was fine. He got up for a moment, taking his lute with him, and walked over to the counter, drumming on the counter to get Iddra's attention. She looked up and he smiled. "Mind if have a bottle of wine? Getting ready to play a few tunes, and need some liquid inspiration." She laughed a bit and handed him a bottle, and he laid a few coins, more than was necessary for the wine, and headed back to his seat.

After a drink or two, he put his feet back up on the table and strummed along, singing a song he had come up with on the road. The patrons seemed pleased with the tune, which caused him to be a bit more boisterous with his song, and they didn't seem to mind.

Finally, he finished his song, and bowed his heads as the few miner's surrounding him clapped. He took another drink of his wine and just strummed this time, gazing upon the patrons for any new faces. His eyes came upon some armored Nords sitting at one of the nearby tables. They looked like they might have a few stories to tell. Not to mention the Imperial who had come in before he started playing, who was about to fall asleep right on the counter. He wondered if he should go over and speak to the adventurers, just to hear some of their stories, and maybe get some more inspiration. He shook his head and started back on his playing. Maybe later, he thought. They looked too deep into their conversation for random company. No matter. He took another drink and sighed. This, being able to relax for more than a minute, was perfect.

 

[Aerin]

"So you want to join me, eh? I'm not stupid enough to go there alone, so I apreciate someone to join me. But we'll still need more, for all we know, we can run into a horde of those legendary Falmers. Creepy creatures that, blind and twisted. So. Are you in?"

Elsa set down her ale and folded her arms over her chest at the gesture of goodwill. That wine was not cheaply bought, and yet here he offered her an entire bottle. "So you aren't stupid enough to travel alone, yet you buy a strange woman in a tavern some very expensive wine? Interesting." Taking a sip of the wine she had to admit, Garren had good taste. Of course, anything would have tasted better than the swill they tried to pass of as mead here, and the ale only improved the more you drank of it. Looking over the table at Garren Elsa nodded, her curiosity too great too walk away, and the drink too good to turn down. "But yes, I think I shall join you. I may even have some fun while we're at it, who knows what sorts of oddities might occur on this trip."

Leaning back in her chair she stretched for a moment, the warmth of the fire and wine beginning to ease the thief into a doze. "I suppose you'll need more hands on deck? I can see a few faces that might prove helpful in your quest. Perhaps the man who thinks himself a bard for starters." Elsa nodded her head in the direction of an altmer who had just finished entertaining the crowd and was now casually strumming his lute. In her past experiences she'd found bards to be remarkably fascinating travelling companions, of not for their battle skills but for their numerous tales. When she was younger she revelled in the tales of honour and adventure, now the stories simply brought her a sense of comfort in an otherwise discomforting land.

 

[Kimrisvik]

Garren took a long drink from the newly bought bottle. The fresh taste of wine was the most relaxing feeling he knew. Elsa also seemed to enjoy the drink he had given her, even though she did'nt understand why he had bought one for her. Garren smiled as he set the winebottle down on the table.
"A real gentleman always treats a woman good. And the money is no problem for me. There's plenty of money for a skilled mercenary like myself." He had to laugh a little. She must think he was some sort of arrogant douchebag. Which he also was at some points. But she did'nt need to know that at this point.

He now turned over to the altmer Elsa had showed him. He did'nt actually look like a normal bard. No, he looked like he could have some potential of fighting in him. "I'll be right back." Garren got up from his seat and headed in the direction where the altmer sat fiddling with his lute. As he walked by, some of the patrons turned their heads to look at him. He smiled. But he altmer did'nt seem to notice him at all. "Excuse me lad. My friend and i..." Garren pointed to the table where Elsa sat waiting. "We're looking for someone to chat with, and you seemed lonely. Do you want to join us? And by he way. Drinks are on me."

 

[CapObvious]

Carenen took another drink of his wine, and finished it with one last gulp. With a contented sigh he strummed along with the tune in his head, watching as it seemed one of the Nords were making their way over, possibly to make a request. He wondered softly to himself as he strummed, and looked away to regain his focus. Finally, a voice came out over the low rumble of the other patrons, and he knew it was meant for him.

"Excuse me lad. My friend and i..." The Nord pointed away, towards the table he had just left. "We're looking for someone to chat with, and you seemed lonely. Do you want to join us? And by he way. Drinks are on me."

Just a chat, eh? He took another look at the warrior and silently ruled out the possibility that this was merely for conversation. What he couldn't figure out was what these two could have wanted. He thought again to himself, knowing that this would be a great chance to figure out their stories, and possibly come up with a new tune or two. Not to mention, as he took a look at his now empty bottle, he was in need of a drink. He nodded with a smile at the Nord, standing to his feet, slinging his lute over his shoulder. "I don't know about lonely, but I wouldn't mind the company. Thanks for the drink."

 

[Kimrisvik]

"Just go over and take a seat with Elsa there. I've got something to do first." Garren gave him one last smile before he headed over to the bar. He had just noticed an Imperial who looked like he could fall asleep at any moment. Garren took the bar stool beside him. The Imperial seemed to be sleeping. Poor guy.

Garren put his hand on the stranger's shoulder. He woke up quickly and looked shocked at Garren. Garren just smiled to him. "Come join us at our table instead of sitting here by your self. Drinks are on me!"

 

[Delusional]

Marcus' eyes grew heavier, and before he knew it, he had dozed off, slumped over the bar counter.

He awoke with a shock, feeling a hand lightly resting on his shoulder. He turned to his right to face a large Nord, sitting on the bar stool adjacent to him, looking at him with a smile plastered on his face.

"Come join us at our table instead of sitting here by your self. Drinks are on me!" The man seemed merry enough, and maybe a conversation was just what Marcus needed to fight off the sleep. He brought a hand up to rub his eyes once again, and took a quick drink out of his flagon.

"Sure, I'd be happy to join you," Marcus replied, and lifted himself from the stool, still shaking the sleep from his body. He followed the Nord over to a table, where a young Nord woman sat, as well as an Altmer man, who had a lute slung over his back.

Marcus pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. After taking a gulp of spiced wine, he set the flagon down and slid it to his side, looking up at the others seated around the aged, oak table. Hm, the Altmer must be the tavern bard. Marcus began sizing up the other occupants of the table, taking mental observations, among other things. That woman is quite the looker, huh. He leaned back in his chair, and ran a gloved hand through his thick black hair.

"Well, I'm Marcus." The Imperial broke the awkward silence with a simple introduction, and turned his gaze to the man who invited him to the table. A small smile crossed his face. "Where is that free drink you promised?"

 

[Kimrisvik]

Garren laughed loudly before he gave sign to the bartender to send him two new bottles. "It's coming soon," he said. And just as he finished his sentence, Iddra had brougth him the two bottles of wine. "I'll pay you tomorrow before I leave, if thats okay?" She looked at him with a gentle smile. "Of cource thats okay!" She returned to the bar to serve more mineworkers. Garren shoved the bottles to the new men at the table. "As I promised!" He smiled at them, before he lifted his bottle to cheer for the new friends he had just met "By the way, my name is Garren Rivers".

 

[CapObvious]

Carenen took a seat at the table with these new faces, and nodded at them politely as he lowered into his seat. He leaned back into the seat and studied these new acquaintances, wondering what had brought them here together. The Nord had invited him over had just left again to get gather up another, the exhausted Imperial that was nearly passed out on the bar. He nodded to the new arrival, and waited for someone to break the silence.

The Imperial started sizing up the group, just as Carenen had, and the bard began to wonder what they thought of this..."simple bard". Then the Imperial's surveying eyes went over to the Nord woman, and they lingered there. Carenen didn't blame him for that, however. She was very pleasing to look at, which Carenen didn't often think about human women.

"Well, I'm Marcus." The Imperial spoke, after Carenen assumed he was finished studying the woman and himself. He looked over, and asked the Nord the very question he was near about to ask himself. "Where is that free drink you promised?"

The Nord smiled at them and got Iddra to bring their drinks, and thanked the Nord, who had introduced himself as Garren Rivers. He raised his bottle at the others and spoke out loud to the group he was with. "A pleasure to meet you, Marcus and Garren." He then tipped his bottle at the Nord woman, as he searched for what the Nord had called her. "You as well, Elsa." With that, he took a drink, and sat his drink down on the table and smiled again, feeling comfortable around the group, but knowing it was likely the wine's doing. He spoke again, this time quieter. "So, what brings you all here? Got any interesting tales and stories you want to share?" He paused with another drink. "Currently looking for some inspiration, and you all are the first interesting lot that has come in this place since I have arrived."

 

[Kimrisvik]

Garren took a drink from his bottle. He could now feel the alcohol rushing to his head. What a lovely feeling. The others looked at him like they were expecting him to tell a story of his andventures. He sat the bottle on the table and leaned forward, resting his chin on top of the bottle. He ran his hand through his long, brown hair, before he took one more drink. They were still looking at him in awkward silence.

Garren cleared his throat. "Well, as you might notice, I'm not the kind of man who usually sits in a tavern buying first class drinks to strangers." He took a short pause cracking his fingers on the table. "So you might wonder what a man like me, is doing in a place like this." They seemed to be waiting eagerly for an answer. "The thing is. I'm here looking for brave adventurers, explorers or travelers who would join me on one hell of an adventure. Maybe you've heard about that new dwemer ruin outside Markarth? Well, no one really knows where it is. Except from the jarl and his men. And no one knows whats inside of it. But the rumors says it's some dangerous things, since the explorers eighter lost the ability to speak, or never even returned." He looked over at the bard. "That would be some decent inspiration, eh?"

 

[Aerin]

Elsa nodded pleasantly at the two men who came to join the small table. She paid little attention to the way the imperial's eyes lingered over her, instead focussing on her drink which she had to admit, went down very easily. Marcus, the high elf didn't introduce himself but she would learn his name later. More drinks were bought and Elsa caught her attention drifting for a moment until she realised she was yet to properly introduce herself to the others.

"I suppose that makes me one of the brave adventurers then. Elsa the Fleet at your service. Hopefully we'll return with our voices, it would be a shame for a bard to return with fantastic tales, yet no voice to speak of them."

 

[CapObvious]

Carenen took another drink and made a sigh of satisfaction. Garren wasn't kidding about the first class drinks, that was for sure. He listened the man tell of a great dwemer ruin, and the very thought of it drove Carenen's mind haywire. He thought about the dangers of going on this mission, the automatons, the falmer.... Then another wave of his excitement hit him again. Falmer be damned, he was going with them!

Carenen smiled at Elsa's agreement, and her peck at mute bards. "Nothing would be as painful as that."
then nodded at Garren. "You also have yourself a brave wanderer. Carenen Larethor, at your service. And don't worry about bringing a simple bard along, I assure you, I can carry my own weight."

 

[Kimrisvik]

"Well, Imperial, Marcus was it?" Garren turned to the Imperial who still hadn't answered if he would join them on this adventure. "We can still need one more companion to help us out! It won't be easy, not even the walk to The Reach." He got excited just by the thought of it. All those wolfs, bears, mammoths and giants they might run into. Not to talk about the bandits he could get the chance to kill. As long as they did'nt meet any dragons.

He was not sure that the dragons had really returned, but rumors said that Helgen had just been attacked by one. The only thing he'd never killed, was dragons. Not so strange since he'd never met one before. Not that he wanted to meet one. Those giant, winged, firebreathing Argonian looking beasts wasn't actually something he wanted to run into.

"Are you with us Marcus?"

 

[Delusional]

Marcus sat silently, reclined in his chair, observing the group. He nodded at the Altmer bard when he greeted the group, but other than that, he remained quiet.

They seemed hearty enough. This Garren seemed to have an endless amount of gold, with all of the expensive drink he was willing to purchase for a few strangers. The wine was some of the best wine Marcus had ever tasted, and he appreciated the kind gesture by this Nord, Garren Rivers. He steadily sipped away at the drink, a refreshing energy overcoming his fatigue and exhaustion.

Then Garren leaned forward, and began to speak. Slowly at first, but as he continued, his words sped up, excitement flying from his sentences and ricocheting across the table.

He proposed an adventure, and asked the individuals to accompany him. He seemed eager enough.

Marcus could not say the same.

Dwemer. That word was one word Marcus could not bear to hear; it weighed heavy on his soul. Not after his father...

The joy was quickly wiped from Marcus' expression, and sorrow flooded into his being as the other adventurers gathered around the table agreed to accompany Garren on this journey.

Marcus was conflicted - he yearned for adventure, especially in the company of others. However, Marcus could not bring himself to even think of entering a Dwemer ruin...

"Are you with us Marcus?"

The others were looking at him as Garren asked the question, clearly not the first time he called the Imperial's name, waiting for the man to escape his memories and return to reality.


Well Marcus? Are you going to throw in with these adventurers? Are you going to delve into the very types of ruins that brought the demise of your very father?

Thoughts raced through his mind at the speed of light, doubt and confusion drowning him in anguish, dejection and depression flowing through his veins...

"I'll do it."

He spoke suddenly, almost spitting the words out angrily. Almost instantly, he began to question his sudden response, ambiguity taking hold of him.

I must do it. I can not let that affect me. I must push through, for Darius. For father.

 

[Kimrisvik]

"I'll do it." Marcus finally answered. Garren was very pleased with the answers he had gotten. Elsa and Carenen seemed to be more eager than Marcus though. He looked uncomfortable, and took his time to answer him at first. But when he finally spoke he spoke quikly, and almost as if Garren had upset him with the offer. Garren could see that there was something bothering him, but didn't want to kill of the good mood in the group he had just gathered. So insted he smiled kidly to Marcus in an atempt to lift his mood.

Garren looked out the window. Hmm, it seams like there's a storm brewing up. We'll better wait till tomorrow. He finished his wine and got to his feet. "I suggest you all get some sleep. Tell Iddra I'll pay her for your rooms in he morning. See you tomorrow. Good night!" He walked of in the direction of one of the more expensive rooms of the inn. His armor clinked for each step he took, and once more he silenced the crowd of Braidwood. He stopped by the door to his room and drew his sword and gave it a few swings in the air. It seemed to facinate the patrons a lot. Garren then bowed before he entered the room and closed the door behind him. Easy crowd to please. Poor mine workers, never gets to see exciting people like me.