Breadcrumbs

"He's insane," Lydia finally admitted after I'd started rowing us back to the mainland.

"He's been living in isolation for who knows how long. He was always bound to be a little eccentric."

"No, my thane. He's off the deep end. Someone from the College should really come and check on him."

To be honest, she was absolutely right. But his problems were not mine, at least not for now. I had a destination, which he'd kindly pointed out on the map. I was tempted to go straight to Alftand and find the Scroll but I'd never explored a Dwemer ruin before, nor had Lydia, so figured I should head to Whiterun first and see if the Companions were still willing to assist.

We walked through the city gates two nights later, the journey taking longer than expected after we were slowed by a snowstorm, having to spend a night in an inn on route. Lydia headed home, stating she would start preparations for the expedition to Alftand, as I headed to Jorrvaskr. Once I'd sat down with the Companions and explained what I had to do, I could only ask what to expect.

"You've never been in a Dwemer ruin?" Farkas asked in surprise.

"No. Been in plenty of other ruins but nothing Dwarven. Don't know anything about them, in all honesty."

"No-one really knows much about them except for the fact they simply disappeared one day a long time ago, leaving behind their cities. They can be dangerous to explore as the machines they built were left behind as guardians," Vilkas added.

"Indeed. Numbers at your side is a good idea, Ragnar. You don't want to explore these ruins on your own," Aela stated.

"That's why I headed back here. We'll leave first thing in the morning."

"Does that mean no drinking?" Farkas joked.

"Not unless you want to ride with a hangover," his brother retorted.

Farkas scoffed. "Just because you can't handle your mead."

"I can handle more than you, whelp."

"Who are you calling whelp, ice-brain."

I left the twins to bicker between themselves, thinking it would eventually come to blows, nothing serious as they occasionally scuffled and the only thing wounded would be pride for the loser. After wishing Aela goodnight, no offer of further companionship forthcoming for the evening, I headed back to Breezehome, joining Lydia for dinner before we both headed to bed, worn out after a long, cold journey.

"Off again, Dragonborn?" one of the guards questioned as I walked through the city gates the next morning.

"No rest for the wicked. Now I'm off to find an Elder Scroll."

"What do you need one of those for?" another guard wondered.

"Where do you even find one?" another guard asked.

"In a Dwemer ruin and, hopefully, it should help me end the dragon crisis."

"A Scroll can do that?"

"That's the hope."

"That must be why the Companions walked by earlier. They should already be at the stables."

"Good luck, Dragonborn. And be careful in those ruins. I've heard all sorts of stories about the unwary traversing those sort of ruins."

I thanked them for the sensible advice, though he was telling me things that I already knew, of course. Farkas, Vilkas and Aela were already mounted and ready to go, Lydia busy tying a bag to her saddle before she mounted up. My horse was saddled and simply needed mounting, the Companions ensuring to share a number of jokes about her name at my expense.

"Still can't believe you called your horse Sooty," Farkas stated, snorting through his laughter.

"It wasn't my idea," I retorted, glaring at Lydia.

"You asked me, my thane. You didn't have to agree."

"I can't wait to hear the new Dragonborn song in the Bannered Mare once all this is done. Ragnar and Sooty, his mighty steed, charging into battle against dragons," Vilkas added, the three Companions laughing away.

I simply rubbed my horse on her neck. "Don't listen to them, Sooty. You're alright in my book."

"Are you ready, my thane?"

"I will be if you're all done with the jokes at my expense."

The laughter stopped, followed by some cleared throats and none of them met my eye. I started laughing at how uncomfortable they all looked as I simply kicked my horse in the ribs and rode off, looking back to see the four of them meekly following me along. We'd been riding an hour when I suddenly remembered something, turning to Lydia.

"Did you pack those things Septimus gave us?"

"They're in my saddle bag."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Though I still don't see the point of whatever he wants."

"Or is it a case of not understanding?" Aela asked.

"Did you understand much of what he said, Lydia?"

"I don't think anyone could have understood him. As I said when we left him, insane."

"What do you need to do?" Aela wondered.

"Something about gathering the knowledge of the Dwemer. I guess we'll learn more once we get there. To be honest, he spoke in a torrent of riddles. But I think we gathered the basics of what he wanted. Right?"

"I think we'll be fine, my thane."

While we didn't dawdle along, we certainly didn't ride hard and fast towards Alftand, making the decision on route to stop in Wintherhold for the night, or at an inn between Whiterun and Winterhold if the weather proved difficult, and we would make for the ruin the next day. My colleagues were happy to do that, not particularly wanting to explore a ruin after spending an entire day in the saddle. The weather that had dogged our ride back to Whiterun a day or two before had also cleared, though the road was still buried under snow, which slowed our progress. We eventually rode into Winterhold well after dark, huddled in our coats as nights were freezing this far north. Despite spending nearly all day in the saddle, it was still a draining day, and after a meal and a tankard of mead, we all headed to bed, ready to face whatever we would find in Alftand.

The next morning, leaving our horses tied outside the inn, we began our trek through the deep snow towards Alftand. I knew we would pass near the ruins of Saarthal, finding a clear enough path leading southwest not far past the ruins, hopeful that it would lead us to where we wanted to go. The wind was ferocious as we crested a hill, but the weather was at least clear, granting us a view of the exposed, barren landscape of northern Skyrim. A white canvas upon which the greatest artist could have painted a masterpiece. I couldn't help but stop for a couple of minutes and simply drink it all in. We continued to follow the path and it was around another hour when we crested another rise, seeing a tower in the distance. Upon approaching the tower, we saw a part of ramshackle shacks and I immediately came to a halt.

"Septimus didn't mention he'd sent anyone else," Lydia stated.

"Weapons at the ready. We don't know who else is here," I ordered quietly.

We approached the shacks cautiously, though I heard nothing above the howling wind. A quick investigation of the shacks suggested whatever expedition had trekked here had gone terribly wrong, as we found destroyed tents and a number of bodies buried under the snow. Aela gave me a journal she found. A quick read of its contents suggested we may find whoever these people were in the ruins, though the destruction of the camp still didn't make sense. 'Perhaps they were simply caught out by a storm?'

A call from Farkas grabbed our attention, seeing that he was pointing towards a wooden bridge and our likely entrance into the Dwemer ruins. The rickety bridge overlooked a canyon, following a series of wooden walkways down the side of the canyon until we reached a small crevice. I waited for my colleagues at the entrance, each of them taking their time down the walkways as they were coated in ice and treacherous underfoot.

I wondered if this had once been a mine as there was plenty of mining paraphernalia around us as we entered the crevice. It was bitterly cold, walls, floor and ceiling of ice, torches carried by my companions the only source of light. A cold cooking spit suggested that whoever had been before us had long since disappeared, followed by one or two more. 'Maybe they came down in here to escape the weather outside.' There were signs people had tried to live down here, as there were rudimentary tents, plenty of empty sleeping bag, barrels of salted meats and mouldy vegetables.

"Wonder where they are?" Lydia asked quietly as we continued to walk forward.

"Who knows?"

Then we found the blood. Lots and lots of blood. I heard one or two mutters from behind as the torch illuminated the pools, a vibrant red compared to the dull colour of the ice. We looked around and saw streaks on the icy walls and even one or two spatters above us.

"Where are the bodies?" Aela wondered.

"And who did this?" Farkas added.

More evidence that people had been trying to scratch a living though it was now clear they were most likely dead. But who had killed them? It didn't look like the work of ordinary bandits. I thought perhaps a troll, though there was no evidence one had made its home here. After a basic investigation, attempting to find any sign of who these people were, we moved forward with plenty of caution in each step, following a trail of blood. And then we heard a voice.

"Khajit," Aela whispered, "Suffering skooma withdrawal."

"How do you know?"

"The tone in the voice."

As we continued our descent, the ice started to thaw to reveal the Dwarven ruin itself. It was my first glimpse of their architecture and technology, seeing pipes attached to the ceiling, though some were now broken, dripping water to the floor. We followed the corridor, a mixture of ruin and ice, and that is where I saw the first Dwarven creature. It was made of some sort of metal. It was not flesh and blood.

"What is it?" I asked, crouching down next to it, poking it with my dagger, hearing the metallic clink as my dagger touched it.

"We call them Dwarven spiders. They're more a nuisance rather than something to really worry about," Farkas replied.

"Yes, it's the Centurions you have to worry about. Massive bastards," his brother added.

"Don't forget the Spheres. More dangerous than spiders though someone like you should be okay, Ragnar," Aela stated.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you can use your sword and shield against them like you do an ordinary bandit. Though the Spheres can be a right bugger to take down. All you can do is hit them until they finally break."

"Good advice."

I'd been walking along without a weapon but immediately unsheathed my sword, figuring we would eventually run into the enemy, either Dwarven or otherwise. I encountered my first mechanical spider only a couple of minutes later. I'll admit I watched it slowly approach, almost transfixed by its movement, before I remembered that it probably wanted to hurt or kill me, so I struck when it was close enough to hit. My hand vibrated as my sword connected with its body. The spider stumbled and I hit it again. That did the job as its legs and body came apart.

A nearby stone table was covered in books and spiders; clear signs of experimentation having taken place as the spiders were in numerous parts. I also found another journal, of the same name as the journal we'd found at the camp outside. I wondered if we may eventually find this Sulla somewhere deeper in the ruins. I also wondered exactly who he was and what he was doing here. A simple treasure hunter? A researcher of the Dwemer? Or something else…

We ended up walking through more ice corridors, these clearly dug out by miners as we found a number of abandoned pickaxes and more mining equipment. And we found more blood trails, but again, no bodies. I didn't think any of the Dwemer machines would take the bodies so who had, if people had been killed? It made absolutely no sense. Nonetheless, we continued to descend, careful not to slip on the icy floor, the blood trail making it even worse at times, careful as possible not to step into the blood.

We heard a voice ahead, making a gesture to those behind, hearing murmurs of understanding.

"It's that khajit we heard earlier," Aela whispered, "Be careful."

The khajit was standing over the bloody body of another of his race. He turned as soon as I saw him. He was armed with an axe and he immediately started charging at me. Before I could even yell at him to stop, I had to lift my shield to deflect the blow. He swung again and again and I was left with little choice but to cut him down. As I sheathed my sword, Lydia had gone across to investigate the second body, returning with half a dozen small empty bottles.

"Skooma," she stated.

I nodded. "I know what it is. I can only guess they were both addicts?"

Lydia nodded. "The one you killed must have killed that one over there. They look exactly the same so perhaps they were brothers? There's only two bedrolls. No personal journal or anything that would suggest who they were."

I grabbed the journal we had taken at the camp outside, flicking through the pages to the list of names. "Here. They're khajit type of names. Not that it really matters now. We're looking for this Sulla, if he's still alive. If he's still alive, maybe his bodyguard Umana is too."

"And the rest?"

"Probably dead."

"Now you know why we insisted on coming," Farkas added.

I had to agree, assuming that it was only going to get worse the further we descended into the ruin. We left the ice behind and I think we finally entered the ruins of Alftand proper, a cacophony of noise as the machines built by the Dwemer were still… alive may be the best word. Torches were extinguished as the lights were still on and I was amazed at how intact this part of the city was. Unlike many Nordic ruins I'd traversed, which always appeared to be falling apart, the Dwemer had built their cities to last. Or so it seemed…

We remained cautious as we moved forward, knowing that Dwemer contraptions could appear from anywhere. Our caution was proven justified as balls of metal appeared from a nearby wall. They rolled along the ground for a few metres before they then turned into what could only be described as humanoid-ish creatures. The next thing I knew, both Farkas and Vilkas had charged forward, swinging their great-swords in sweeping arcs, pushing the Spheres back before they retaliated, swinging its metallic arm as it lunged forward.

I stepped forward to assist, blocking one lunge with my shield, allowing Farkas to swing again, knocking the Sphere back again, seeing smalls bits of metal fly off its body. I heard Lydia yelling something beside me, assuming she was helping Vilkas. Farkas and I stepped forward together, the same tactic of blocking with my shield, again feeling my arm vibrate from the hit, as both Farkas and I struck. This time the Sphere fell apart from the blows, immediately turning to see Lydia and Vilkas had also destroyed the other Sphere.

"And the Centurions are bigger?" I asked.

"Much bigger," Farkas replied, "The only hope we have is, if we do see one, that we may be able to sneak by without waking it up."

Sound advice if ever I've heard it. A larger room ahead was only guarded by a couple of the small spider-like creatures, a couple of swings wiping those out, though one released sparks of energy as it died. It didn't harm us too much but it still stung.

"That was lightning," I stated, checking over the spider body.

"Another Dwarven trap. This place is alive. You can hear and feel it," Aela stated.

We explored the room, finding more spider bodies and more evidence of experiments, assuming we were still following whoever Sulla was and whatever he was looking for. Vilkas called my name from the other side of the room, handing me a journal as I approached. I read its contents, it proving my theory that whoever came before had taken refuge in the cave from a storm, but also suggesting that the miners, explorers or whoever they were, had been a significantly large party but had been whittled down by the Dwarven machines. We all read the journal and understand the difficulties we may face going forward.

"We have to keep going. We need the Scroll," I stated.

"We've faced worse and lived to tell the tale," Farkas added.

"Think of the honour it would bring to the Companions, that we five were to find an actual Elder Scroll. They would sing songs of us for the next thousand years," Vilkas said to nods of us four.

"I guess what we're saying is we're definitely not turning around, my thane."

What followed were a series of dark, long hallways, left with an eerie sense that our progress was being watched, the Dwarven mechanisms still working, though thankfully we came across no more of those automatons, as they were described in the journal we'd just found. Aela was right about one thing. Alftand was alive and I wondered how many other Dwarven ruins were out there, across Skyrim, still alive with the sounds of Dwarven machines. The only question I had is one asked by everyone else; where did they all go?

Abandoned living quarters of the Dwemer were still full of treasures, the artwork and attention to detail of these pieces far greater than anything you would find on the surface. Stone beds and chairs didn't look particularly inviting or comfortable, assuming that anything that had been used to soften them had long since disappeared. But it was a minor glimpse into what their lives may have been like all those years ago.

We walked along these hallways for a while, hearing water cascading through the pipes above our heads until we exited into another large chamber, our way blocked by a number of working pipes that, if passed at the wrong time, would knock us to the ground below. We timed our movements carefully as we passed each pipe. The last thing we wanted now was a serious injury. Apart from the pipes, there were one or two spiders that required quick killing, the twins taking care of those with relative ease, a swipe of their great-swords each leaving them in pieces on the ground.

Through a great pair of doors, we walked along another hallway, though this one was far brighter than those we had just left. We checked the rooms to either side. It was there that I found some rather strange armour and weapons.

"That's a Falmer weapon," Aela stated, obviously wondering where I'd disappeared to.

"Falmer?"

"You don't know about the Falmer?" I shook my head. "I don't think I have enough to explain who and what they are. But if the Falmer are here, then this just got more complicated."

"Why?"

"The Falmer are the most vicious creatures you will ever have the displeasure of meeting."

"What are they?"

"They were the Snow Elves that once inhabited Skyrim. Though that was thousands of years ago. Whatever they once were, they are no longer. My advice, Ragnar. We kill any we come across. Because, trust me on this one, they won't hesitate to kill us in return."

We found our first body soon after. Dressed in ragged robes, reminiscent of those I had worn at Helgen, we searched his body for any sign of identification, finding a journal hidden on his person. His writing, if the scrawl on the pages could be called that, suggested he had been kidnapped by the Falmer. 'Eyeless creatures? They're blind?' But, from what I read, the entire expedition led by Sulla, including the man himself, had been kidnapped, though most had managed to escape. A check of the man, the journal revealed as Endrast, suggested he had died from blood loss from all his injuries.

We followed even more hallways, handling the couple of spiders and spheres that we came across. We then came to an incline, noticing the pressure pads on the floor, waiting for the wary to step on them. I wondered what would happen if someone stepped on one? I didn't want to find out, warning my colleagues about them. We all climbed the incline without incident though, at the top, I came to a stop again.

"Those look like eggs."

"Chaurus eggs," Farkas stated.

"What?"

"Chaurus. I've only ever seen the creature once or twice. Horrid things. Worse than the Falmer with the poison they spit."

"So not only do we have to worry about the Dwarven machines, we now have to concern ourselves with Falmer and Chaurus?"

"That would be correct, Ragnar."

I couldn't help the groan, though I was left with the feeling the other four agreed.

The cavern we entered a few minutes later was enormous. I looked up, half expecting to see blue sky high above. But I wasn't that fortunate, as there was a ceiling far above. To our right were two towers, while numerous pipes criss-crossed the cavern. I edged to the side of the walkway and peered over to see how high we were. Again I was happy that I wasn't afraid of heights as it was a long way down, stepping back as I didn't particularly want to slip and fall.

There was only one way to go. Down. The lights were still on, so I was glad not be descending in darkness, but that meant the Dwarven machines were still awake, handling one or two as we went. The building of all these – the towers, the pipes, even the path we walked along – simply boggled the mind at how the Dwemer had managed to build all of this. If they were so advanced all those years ago, imagine what else they could have done… had they not disappeared, of course.

Finding the body of an orc after having to jump down a level was a surprise. A cursory check did not immediately reveal who she was and we didn't find a journal. However, the journals we had collected and a check of the list of names suggested the body was of Yag gra-Gortwog. Whatever had killed her had made a real mess of her. Aside from the pools of blood, counting all the wounds would have taken too long. Barbaric was a word that came to mind.

"Who would have done this?" Lydia wondered.

"Falmer," Aela replied, picking up an arrow and sniffing it, "Yes, definitely Falmer. The arrows are poisoned."

"With what?" I asked.

"Anything that will cause you the most painful death imaginable. The Falmer hate anything and everything. They are vile, twisted creatures."

Her words were proven correct when I saw my very first Falmer only minutes later. To call it anything but a creature would be an insult as if they had one been mer, that was a long time ago. They were clearly blind, as they had no eyes. But years of subterranean living had caused their skin to change and, even when standing, they appeared to bend over, as if their backs could not completely straighten. And the smell! The creature was still metres away but I could smell the Falmer from where I was standing. It was nauseating. Aela and Lydia wasted no time as I looked at the Falmer with curiosity, filling it with arrows.

I didn't both checking the body, simply continuing our journey downwards, figuring we were bound to run into more Falmer the further we went. I just hoped they were as easy to kill as that first one, which was unarmoured and barely dressed when thinking about it.

More Falmer were encountered and put down the further we descended, thankful we didn't meet a whole bunch of them at once, I'll admit slightly fearful of encountering their poisoned weapons, if Aela's warning rang true. I was aware the beast-blood that still flowed through my veins could prevent some diseases, but poisons would still kill me if potent enough.

I looked up once we'd descended as far as we could, spending a moment to simply appreciate the scope of the Dwemer buildings. The door ahead then revealed something remarkable. Falmer society, if one could call their simple collection of tents spread across the next few rooms and hallways. And they obviously heard our approach, as they were ready for us.

"Don't get hit!" I yelled as we fell upon them. I gave them plenty of respect, ensuring I didn't make a mistake. They hissed and growled as they attacked, their breath almost as overpowering as their general smell. Most of them were unarmoured and our swords pierced their undefended bodies relatively easily. But we had to watch the archers, Lydia and I having to deflect numerous arrows, allowing Aela to hit them in reply. The twins simply left a bloody path in their wake, cutting down numerous Falmer, some having barely walked out of their tents before finding themselves missing an arm, leg or head.

Finding a Falmer wielding a magical staff was the real surprise. I gathered everyone behind me, holding my shield high, knowing it wouldn't protect me completely from magic but that, with my armour, should be enough. Once close enough, having taken a couple of hits and feeling some pain, the twins flanked to either side and we cut the Falmer to pieces.

"Still won't use your Voice?" Lydia asked, once sure we were alone.

"You know I'll only use it when necessary."

She looked embarrassed. "Of course, my thane. I never meant…"

I just smiled. "I wasn't having a go, Lydia. I understand why you asked the question. But unless we were on the verge of death, I'll trust my arm and yours." I thumbed towards the Circle. "And theirs, too. We usually manage without having to rely on my dragonblood."

I know we were all angered by what we found next. A lot of blood. And signs of torture. We found the one body, unsure as to who this was, again no signs of identification, but it was obvious the poor woman had been tortured, her body covered in wounds and burns. Another body had been completely torn apart and I was left wondering if the Falmer actually ate those they captured. It was a disturbing thought. We also found evidence of the expedition, including a backpack which looked out of place to everything else. I was left wondering who owned it.

"No-one deserved this," Farkas growled as we continued to search.

"They're animals. We should kill them all," Vilkas added.

"You obviously don't know your history then," Aela stated.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Part of that very long story, Ragnar. Let's just say no-one is truly innocent. But still," she gestured at the torture devices, "No-one deserves this."

We found an exit back out into the cavern, descending once again, eliminating the few Falmer on patrol. At the very bottom of the cavern, we all looked up, one or two of us whistling at what we could see above. The level of genius to have built all this was almost beyond imagination. A search of the few tents revealed nothing so we moved on, again following a number of long, relatively well-lit hallways, through a number of enormous doors, wondering what we were going to find next.

Managing to avoid the traps ready to kill the unwary, we took care of another couple of Falmer and exited into another large cavern. And even more Falmer. This time, they were not ready for us and we cut them to pieces, all of us swelling with anger after what we had found earlier. I generally tried not to fight angry. Using anger as fuel is fine, but it can lead to mistakes. You must fight with a clear head, always with a watchful eye and an open ear, ready to defend or strike in a moment. But, I'll admit, I was angered by the slaughter of the people we'd found since entering the crevice. I didn't know who they were but the evidence we'd found suggested they actually hadn't been doing anything wrong. They were explorers, adventurers or treasure hunters. Did they deserve what had been done to them?

After finding the lever to remove the spikes barring our way, ascending the stairs carefully. Near the top, I slowed and then stopped as I noticed something ahead, making a gesture that the Companions would understand.

"Centurion," Farkas whispered.

"Can we get by without waking it?"

"Probably not. They always seem to know when anything approaches them."

"So we should ready ourselves to attack?"

"Yes."

We retreated and ascended a separate set of stairs, further away from the Centurion, noticing the second one had already been taken care off, a surprise considering the size of the machine. Farkas was proven right, though. As soon as I stepped foot on the same level as the Centurion, it woke up. The five of us attacked immediately, getting in a series of strikes before it retaliated, swinging its giant arm, sweeping the twins away. I managed to get my shield up but even I was knocked from my feet, rolling away in time to see it reach its full height.

"My thane, it's time!" Lydia yelled.

She was right. Steam escaped the Centurion as it attacked, and it blew steam into the faces of the Companions, forcing all of them to retreat. I yelled at the Centurion, watching its head turn my way and I beckoned it toward me. I knew what Shout I was going to use, I just had to let it get close enough to work as I planned. Well, planned in my head anyway.

The Centurion loomed over me and I figured it was close enough. So I Shouted and had to laugh to myself as I watched the Centurion tumble away. All five of us then attacked and we somehow managed to disable the giant machine, Farkas attacking its head with great-sword, Vilkas attacking one of the legs. The Centurion attempted to get up as we attacked but somehow we managed to keep it down and, once its head was cut off, it ceased to function.

"Life is never boring with you, my thane."

"Though I'm not sure I want to do another Dwarven ruin any time soon," Farkas added.

"Draugr are far easier to kill," Vilkas stated.

"Come on, I have a feeling we're close."

I was right in a way. I opened the gate to see a pair of armed people facing off, though they were in conversation. They didn't hear us approach so we could listen in to what they were saying.

"Blackreach. We must be closed," I stated quietly.

"And I think we've found Sulla. But what are they doing?" Lydia wondered.

"I think they're going to kill each other," Aela suggested.

"I think they're both mad. But should we stop them?" Lydia asked.

Before anyone could reply, their conversation ceased and they attacked each other. Sulla died without a few strikes, the Redguard woman turning our way and running towards us. A mistake, as she died not long after Sulla. "What a waste," I muttered as I searched their bodies.

Once we were done, we activated the mechanism as instructed by Septimus, revealing a staircase leading downwards. At the bottom was a door, all five of us passing through to enter a place I'd never imagined even in my wildest dreams. Somewhere I'd never heard of until the place was mentioned by Septimus, Sulla merely confirming we were close. A vast, cavernous place, eerily if not hauntingly beautiful, full of dangers that would test all of us to our absolute limit.

A place that was also home to an Elder Scroll that may, in the end, help me defeat Alduin.

Blackreach.