Fandom Elder Scrolls: Return of the Dwemer

[Shog]

The Dwemer disappeared from Tamriel during the first era. No one why or how they left, or even where they left to. As time wore on, they were all but forgotten; our only reminder being their vast and dangerous ruins. In E4 201, the civil war is heating up in Skyrim. The ancient Dwemer city of Markarth is a point of interest for both sides, but the Imperials are holding it tight. This grip is soon to be loosened, but not by the Stormcloakes; by the Dwemer. The Dwemer have returned and in force. Your first priority should be surviving, but then what? Are you going to help bring the Dwemer down before they claim rule aver all of Tamriel, or watch helplessly?

 

[Shog]

Shadrothe entered the city of Markarth just as the sun was beginnin to set. He didn't enter through the front gates seeing as no sane guard would let him in dressed in his nightingale armor. Instead he spent a fair portion of the afternoon climbing the mountain. He eventually just had to teleport inside the city after he found a dark corner which he thought would be a good place to teleport to. It was a strang feeling. He wasn't being taken apart and being reconstructed at the other end as most would probably assume. He didn't know exactly how it worked since he based his spell on strong foundations that were used in many conjuration spells. His theory was that he stood still and instead reality worped to match up where he was in his target destination. That obviously didn't happen on a physical plane of reality, but maybe an interconnected ethr reality or something. He tried not to think about it too hard.


He thought Markarth was a beautiful city, but he couldn't stand the politics with the conflict involving the Forsworn so he never stayed for more than a day. Currently he had a job to do in Markarth. Several, actually. He would pay a visit to a shop that owed debt to the Thieves Guild and remind them that distance will not protect them from the guild. Next he would steal something from someone's home and place the evidence in a shop in Whiterun on the way back. They were payed quite handsomely to try and put this shop keeper out of busness.


He didn't want to show up and then imediatly start breaking into people's houses in case he was spotted, so he entered the SIlver-Blood Inn to grab a drink and a meal. He ordered some mead and a chickcken breast. Sitting in a chair next to the fire, he began eating. He pulled his mask down, but left the hood up. Kleppr, who onwed the Inn, had hired Shade for a few jobs in the past and was perfectly ok serving him.

 

[Twyllvarlais]

Falion tied up his horse in the stables outside of Markarth and paid the stable hand 20 gold to take of her. Taking his pair of longswords of the saddle in strapping them to his back, Falion headed into the stone carved city. Walking through the main gates, Falion wasn't surprised when one of the guards eyed him and warned him not to cause trouble, before vehemently calling him a pointy eared degenerate. This was why Falion didn't much care for Skyrim, ever since coming here, he's been insulted due to his race, which in turn made it more difficult to find work. To get the best information about contracts and work Falion knew he must first find an inn or tavern, and right after entering the city, he saw the sign of one. Silver-Blood Inn.





Entering the inn, Falion was amazed at the level of craftsmenship that the Dwemer put into the interior. Walking up to the counter, Falion ordered some cooked beef and a flagon of mead to wash it down. He took his food over by the fire sat down the chair and started eating. Taking his environment, Falion some of the people in the inn before setting his eyes on a weirdly armored Argonian. Dressed in an all black armor with a hood and cowl, and a cloak, Falion decided to just keep to himself for right now. He just couldn't help but smirk at the Argonian's weird set up.

 

[Lord Plantii]

Ra had a mission in Markarth apparently someone spotted a shard of Wuuthrad in one of the Dwemer ruins. For some reason they always wanted him to have all of the crazy missions, how was he to be expected to find a shard of Wuuthrad in this big of a city. The first part was getting in and Khajiits aren't liked by many and are not welcome in cities. He thought he should just go through the front gate, wait on someone to make them open the front gate and stealth the way in.


I should just walk in, wait a person time to go invisible and he's talking to the guards hurry up I don't have that long open the gates. Gates opened lets go. Ra stealthed his way in the city making sure no one noticed him well he was invisible, ooh I remember he can't breathe while invisible or he would give away his position by turning visible. Downsides to everything he finally made it in safely but his time here would be short lived because Khajiits shouldn't be in cities. Ra stayed in the shadows while he caught his breathe.

 

[Karcen]

Salxa had good reason to be in the city of Markarth, she had recently completed a bounty that had been posted for some wizard, she had forgotten his name in truth , and she had thought perhaps that was why her lord had wanted her here. It had turned out that this wizard knew nothing interesting Salxa had made sure of that as he had laid gasping for air as he bled out. Her probing had revealed nothing that was worth anything to her lord as she knew he knew everything the wizard knew already. That left her with the question of why she was commanded to go to skyrim and how to collect a bounty without a head .


The latter was easier to answer than the former as she had settled or had made the steward settle for the wizards hands. She had gotten her hundred gold and was on her way. Salxa didn't really like dwemer ruins being underground or under tons and tons of ruins that could crumble at any moment just didn't appeal to her. Still like so many she would love to learn dwemer secrets if only she could. That would perhaps be the key to fending hermeaus mora off, as while she did not resent serving the prince she did know that she needed to be ready for the day she wasn't useful the best she could hope for right now was he got bored and forgot her.


Well Salxa had some gold now and she was on the surface and while she might not like ruins she did like the reach, it was nothing like either of her homes but it was just nice. She could see building a nice little house in the lonely peaks. That would have to wait until she was free, for now she would get a drink before going and hunting some mages so she went into the silver blood inn. In the inn there were several people, an argonain, an altmer, ect and so on it was a diverse bunch. Salxa ordered a mead and grabbed a seat taking off her helmet to drink up.

 

[Loki Odinson]

Azareal stuck to the shadows as he snuck away from the Smelter Overseer's house. That contract had been so simple he wouldn't have bothered to come all the way to Markarth had the Night Mother not requested his personal hand in this. His smile fell slightly even as he moved towards the center of Markarth, mask pulled down to hang around his neck but keeping his hood up and straightening his back, looking for all the world like any other being taking a tour of the lovely city. But he was hardly paying the great constructs any mind. Instead, his mind kept reminding him of Her voice. While it was usually papery, drawling and flat, this time it was different. She had sounded...as gleeful as She could ever be. Which was strange in itself since the Night Mother was never gleeful. Not even by the steady restoration of the Dark Brotherhood. And everyone knew how seriously She took Her guild and its state.


Reaching a hand out, he pushed the door of the Silver-Blood Inn open. The smile came back. it never failed to amuse him whenever he thought about how the name 'Silver-Blood' was derived. Azareal greeted Kleppr with a nod and ordered a Honningbrew Mead before taking his drink over to the table in the far corner, where he could observe the other patrons. The assassin could afford to take things easy tonight. No one would expect him back at Dawnstar for a while and he didn't have any plans for the night. Or the day after, for that matter.

 

[Shog]

Shade finished his small meal and stood up with a streatch. He pulled the mask back over his face and prepared to leave. He was always slightly dissappointed that his mask didn't match the other nightingales, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. The other masks just weren't designed with his facial struture in mind. They were all made for humans or elves. Given the right size, it could probably even fit an ork. He always had to resist laughing at that statement. He had yet to meet a stealthy orc and doubted he'd ever find one. He took one last look around the Inn and left.


The Hag's Cure would be close by now, but he knew Bothela would still be there cleaning up. He found the enterance and tried the door. It was locked as expected, but it didn't take too long for him to pick the lock. Bothela was clearly surprised to see him and threatened to call the guards, but they were empty threats. A couple minutes later he emerged from the shop richer than he had entered. Most of it would go to the guild, but he had his cut in it. Next he headed towards the housing area. Hopefully they would be either at the Inn or heading off to bed.

 

[Rook]

Faolan pulled the cloak closer as he passed through the gates of the city. Dusk was hanging over the Reach, like an enourmous blanket stretched across the mountains. He hadn't taken a breath in what felt like hours. Under the cloak he still wore his shaman outfit, and if a guard saw that Faolan would be killed on the spot. Of course, it would be even worse if they saw the gaping hole where his heart used to be; he hated the grotesque image that signified his rank among his kin. To be a briar-heart was both a blessing and a curse. Unimaginable power for unimaginable bad looks.


The guards didn't look twice as he made his way into the market district of the city. The stall vendors seemed to be cleaning and locking up for the night, ready for a drink at the local tavern. Of course, he knew the name of the tavern- he knew the layout of the city by heart. He had to if he wanted his mission to be a success. An unprepared forsworn had no chance of breaking their king out of the silver mine. Faolan was far from unprepared.


The forsworn had tied his hair back in typical breton fashion, hoping to walk through the city without being watched. Maybe they would think he was some ambitious trader from the west rather than one of the reachmen they feared so much. It didn't do him much credit, though, as he couldn't hide the look of disdain for these people who had stolen his people's home. Of course, everyone in the tavern had a similar look to them. Markarth wasn't exactly known for the brightest people. Mostly drunkards, silver miners, corrupt politicians, and scholars.


The warm air of the tavern enveloped him, causing him to feel a bit more relaxed. As the sun sank outside, the fires only grew brighter. A few unfamiliar faces were lounging about the place, but Faolan paid them no attention. He was to meet a contact here who had a way into the mine. Deciding to wait for the contact to come to him, the reachman sat at the bar, slipping the bartender a few septims in return for a tankard of mead. While the nords were scum, their taste in drinks was certainly admirable.

 

[Shog]

Before Shadrothe reached his target house, the ground began to shake. It wasn't too violent, but enough to cause him pause. It would delay him entering the house since people might come out to see what was going on. He personally didn't think much of it, but turned around to look down on the main streat anyway. What he saw surprised him.


He saw two dwarven centurions in the streat. He saw the remains of conjuration magic dissappear from them. One was posted in front of the main gaits and one was further down the road, closer to the Jarls house. They were placed in stratigic locations leading him to believe there was another one past the centrual structure. They started attacking nearby people, quickly killing them. Oddly enough, they didn't move from there spot and anyone who was beyond a cerain radius was no longer being attacked. Maybe a mage was trying to take Markarth? It certainly wasn't the Forsworn, as this wasn't their type of magic.


He then realized that the shaking hadn't stopped. In fact, it was becoming more intense. He noticed a few cracks beginning to form in a spot between the centurions. They kept growing and growing until a machine made of dwerven metal emerged from the ground at a 45 degree angle. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen. It had a sharp tip in the shape of a cone that spun at rapid speads (a drill). Below the spinning cone (which was now slowing down) a cylinder followed out of the hole. Gear-like mechanisms on the side of the machine kept propelling it forward. That wasn't the worst of it. As the machine kept pushing out of the ground, Dwarven Spheres pushed out of holes on the side (two for each hole) and then Dwarven Spkers poured from the holes. These did not hesitate to attack people.


Shade wasn't usually much for helping people, but what good would it do him if an entire city was massaccred? He conjured a bound bow and began shooting the machines. The guards tried to hold them back and get people out of the way, but they were having trouble in the dark. Shade cast two magelight down near the battle field. He saw other dwarven machines comming up behind the guards from elsewhere and began shooting them.

 

[Lord Plantii]

Ra was moving towards the inn to see if they had any rumors on the fragment of Wuuthrad. Ra moved swiftly to the inn and felt this moving sensation through the ground shaking his very essence. He looked up and heard this screeching and steam going into the air filling the streets. He heard people screaming running away from some monster his best guess was the forsworn but they couldn't make that noise. He moved towards the noise and immediately recognized it as something Dwemer he knew it was powerful because it easily wiped some civilian standing watch.


Ra moved to grab his Greatsword and looked around at the people who were also readying their weapons. He vanished and popped up next to this man with a hood over his face and said to him. "Ra wants to know what that thing is, Ra very intrigued."


@Shog

 

[Shog]

Shade didn't stop firing arrows at the machines. "The dreamer dissappeared in the first era, but they left behind some impressive ruins such as this city. In many of their ruins there are still active mechanical guards. These are some of the guards. I don't know about the big machine they are comming from." He glanced over at the Centurion at the door to Markarth. People were staying plenty away from it, but that door was the only escape everyone had. "Help destroy the big one in front of the door. Then maybe we can get some people out."

 

[Lord Plantii]

Ra seemingly vanished and popped back up in midair swinging down with his Greatsword, when he cleaved down the centurion staggered a bit by the power behind this force and the Centurion turned around using it steamers to hurt the thing that attacked it but it vanished again and then popped back up this time cutting at its legs but after Ra hit he was vunerable because he hasn't been breathing much and had to rest he disappeared but couldn't move out of the way of the Centurion's attack and was hit into a building. Ra got back up and took a deep breath preparing for the anslaught he disappeared appearing at the Centurion's legs he hit and tried to cut the thing but it was really durable. This anslaught would be harder than he expected.

 

[Rook]

Faolan grunted as the inn began to shake. An earthquake? Invasion? No, this shaking was too uniform. It grew louder and louder by the second until something outside the inn crashed open. Quick to investigate, he pulled himself off the ground and made his way over to the brass doors, pushing them open. Almost immediately, the claws of a dwarven spider swung inward. Hissing, Faolan lunged back, raising his arms defensivly. The claws just managed to grab his cloak, however, and tore it away from him, revealing his forsworn regalia. He wore only a skirt as was customary of his rank, but it didn't diminish the fear of the patrons behind him.


Shouting, Faolan thrust his hand forward, lobbing an explosive fireball spell at the invaders. With a loud clang the spiders were launched backward, away form the door. Rather than escorting the citizens to safety, the reachman charged forward, making his way outside. The panic of the attack was all centered around one machine: an enormous pointed contraption of some kind. After a quick survey of the city, he could see that a centurion guarded the gates while the spiders and spheres slaughtered the citizens.


While this didn't bother him at first, he realized his only escape was being guarded as well. Now that he was exposed as a forsworn, he couldn't remain in the city. Making his way to a high place, he breathed in deeply, tapping into the natural force of the land around him rather than his own magicka reserves. Faolan brought his hands up slowly, focusing on the ground around the dwarven giant's feet. Vines began to grow upwards, wrapping around his legs and holding him in place. Perhaps with this intervention the guards and local mercenaries could finish the beast off.

 

[Karcen]

Salxa felt the earth shake and for a second she thought the earth bones might be acting up with their chains so slack these days, but that thought was quickly disproven with the dwemer machine burst though the floor. Salxa could guess what it was for as it reminded her of a battering ram and she did not expect it to shoot out the animonculi, but given its apparent use she guessed that was a logical thing. Still this thing was not something she knew and she had "spoken" with quite a few scholars on the dwemer so that meant it was either just now waking or perhaps it was new. The latter was impossible as the dewmer had vanished long ago sent to another plane, erased from reality, made into the skin of a tower, so many theories none of them proven any more than any other so there couldn't be anything new.


Salxa had quickly put her helm back an when the siege engine had broken though the ground and now everything was chaos, people were slaughtered, spells were cast, and battle started. Also her hand itched and when her hand itched it tended to mean her daedric lord wanted something, or was interested in something. She often wondered if she would find a mass of tendrils instead of blood and bone if she cut her hand open. Still right now was not the time for such thoughts instead she parried a sphere and managed to just barely turn out of the way as it fired its hand crossbow. This of course meant she had to move her blades away from the sphere.


As the sphere would give her no quarter she gave it none and pressed the tiny advantage she had of the machine having a few issues turning in a small space. this was just a second or two bust still it let her hit the sphere with her blades. Salxa felt the rush of energy and life flow into her as she struck and she used that to parry the next blow and hit the sphere hard enough to leave the crossbow arm dangling. The sphere took a second to register this loss and she hit it again and again with her blades. she hit it until the sphere fell apart a lump of dented metal. That was one down a whole room to go.

 

[Shog]

Shade realized that the machines were winning and everyone was outnumbered. Nothing was going to get done unless some more focused on the centurion guarding the main door. He personally didn't want to do that, but he didn't have to. The spiders were making progress up the side towards where he was, so he had to move up more. He let his bound bow dissipate into nothing as he ran. Before he reached the next level, he felt confident he had enough magica for this next stunt. He summoned a Storm Atronach to help with the Centurion and a Flame Atronach to help with the mass of machines. He was wiped after that and was left with only his daggers, which he drew just to be ready.


(I apologize for the poor writing quality in this post.)

 

[Loki Odinson]

When the tremors started, Azareal had leaped from his table, left-hand closing automatically around the familiar curve of his ebony bow even as he fell into a crouch, eyes darting around to spot the threat. The vibrations merely increased in intensity as seconds passed, and right before his astonished eyes, the stone floor of the inn began to crack as something forced its way upwards. The Altmer leaped away from the corner towards the bar counter, where he would have more space to maneuver, nocking an arrow on his bowstring as he did so. He ignored the scared whimpers of the innkeeper and his family, gaze trained unwaveringly on the bulging and fracturing floor.


Two round, bronze spheres shot through out from the hole created and Azareal cursed under his breath. What in the name of the Night Mother was happening? Dwemer automatons weren't supposed to actively exit the ruins they were made to guard. At least, that was what scholars had determined over the years. With a whirl, the spheres straightened into their half-humanoid form, arm-mounted crossbow out and shooting at random patrons. Screams erupted as people went down with choked yells and yelps. Azareal tuned it all out, circling silently until he was behind the Dwarven Spheres. They were immune to all magic and couldn't be fooled with illusions. So all that was left to him was his bow and stealthiness.


As soon as both spheres were turned away, Azareal fired as quickly as he could, circling around the two and inching towards the door of the inn. He needed to get out in the open where he would be able to pick them off from a distance. Five of his six arrows struck true, wedging themselves in the joints between one of the constructs' lower torso and 'feet'. The front one staggered, crumbling into a pile of metal, and he took the opportunity to dash for the door. His hand barely brushed the knob before instincts flared and he threw himself to the left. There was an almighty crash as the sphere broke down the heavy doors and Azareal fired arrow after arrow from where he crouched, stopping to dodge the return fire of Dwarven bolts and scrambling out into open space.


Except the open was also ravaged by mechanical constructs. In spite of his own situation, Azareal's eyes widened briefly at the scene of destruction unfolding before him. As far as he could see, Dwemer automatons were slaughtering the fleeing townsfolk of Markath, painting the stone pavements beneath various shades of red. A sharp ping that sounded as a bolt scrapped his armour snapped him out of it. Lifting his bow, he snapped another three arrows towards the remaining sphere from the inn, watching as it too, finally sustained sufficient damage and crumbled.


By Sithis, of all times to be in Markath.

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Sorry for the late post. I didn't receive any notifications.

 

[MasterChief]

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