Chapter VI: Battle of The Century

A/n: My thirst for stone is great, so I shall experiment with moving the update time a bit

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I still completely as I realize the six massive automatons were powered up.

This wasn't in the damn script!

Deciding to follow the wisdom of the ancients I put into practice the old adage of 'discretion is the better part of valor' and start walking backward very quietly. Naturally, it is at this exact moment that the world goes 'nope' and all six dull gold heads turn in my direction, their frozen expressions practically radiating menace.

(Minthara's POV)

"Are you quite sure he will be safe up there?" I ask the old Nord mage, the both of us looking up at the raised platform Reyvin had ascended some twenty minutes prior.

He shrugs, his relaxed demeanor not dropping for even an instant "He is by far the most informed Master of the college when it comes to Dwemer automata" He explains calmly and then scratches his beard "Even if he was to find himself in dire straights he has all the skills necessary to escape."

Why does the arrogant ass always have to show off like this? Is it really so hard to let others in on the fu- important work? "I hope you are right" I grumble.

We remain standing in silence for a while longer, and just as I am to question the old man again, mostly to calm myself, the familiar booming rumble of the thu'um shakes the entire cave.

I quickly look up to see Reyvin jumping around like a monkey avoiding massive bolts and clouds of searing steam. And of course, the bird blew itself up again...

(Reyvin's POV)

As the centurions focus on me my mind goes into overdrive, I quickly speak "Tiid!" the shout is as always tiring but I need a moment to think as the suspiciously ballista-looking arms on some of the automatons slowly twist in my direction. 

Time resumes on its natural course and I act immediately, turning to the group to my left I take a deep breath and shout "FUUS RO DAH!" blowing them all into the wall and doing minor damage.

I turn to the other group and conjure a massive wave of sticky blue flames in their direction. I knew that these things were heavily protected so destroying them outright would be hard, my hope was to have the flames stick to the joints and hopefully melt them.

I don't dare to stay long enough to see the results and quickly start running down the platform. Moments later bolts started whizzing around me, my wind cloak barely managing to stop them from impaling me outright, though some did graze me.

The fire rate soon increased and I started zig-zagging with umbramancy, the toll of Magica grew with each consecutive jump but luckily I had just enough to throw myself down the stairs while yeeting Scorch at the centurions.

The last thing I heard before I tumbled down the staircase was the betrayed cry of "Why have you forsaken me, Father???" before an explosion silenced the poor bird.

I hear a disturbing amount of clicks as I roll down the stairs, thankfully I had disabled all the traps or I would have been in for a lot of pain right now.

As if I would ever throw myself down otherwise...

Finally, I impacted something and stopped rolling, which had become oddly comfortable I have to say. I look up and my eyes meet Minthara's who is looking both bemused and completely outraged "Greetings apprentice, how are you on this fine evening?" I say pretending that nothing odd is happening.

Tolfdir chuckles and my head turns his way "What exactly happened up there?" He asks, trying to act serious but the tugging of his lips tells another story.

I get up and dust myself off, and just as I am about to start explaining the sound of heavy footsteps makes me look up... and of course, there are the damn centurions lumbering toward us.

I point at them and state dumbly "That." 

Tolfdir scratches his beard in thought "Hmmm" His eyes seem distant as he looks up at the automatons. Finally, he shrugs and cracks his knuckles, a wave of steel-like Magicka slowly bursting from his entire form "I guess I haven't had a good scrap in a while" As his muscles bulge to a ridiculous degree and he grows to twice his height in but a couple of seconds he turns to me with a surprisingly feral smirk "Be a kind lad and cover my back." His usual kind voice was replaced with a bestial growl.

Ah, there is the muscle wizard...

(General POV)

As the massive form of Tolfdir, easily rivaling the approaching centurions, rushes up the stairs Reyvin slowly turns to Minthara, who was sharing his dumbfounded expression, and mutters "And I thought I was the insane one..."

He quickly shakes his head and turns to the rest of the gathering mages/adventurers "Alright people we need to help Master Tolfdir as much as possible" He winces as he hears said Master bat a bolt away with his bare hands "Just try and avoid getting into melee range if you can..."

Davos shakes his head and pulls out his trusty crossbow, looks at it for a moment, looks at the centurions, sighs, and finally rushes up at one of the mounted ballistae.

Everyone else follows Reyvin as he too rushes up the staircase once again.

They arrive just in time for Reyvin to ward off a bolt heading toward Tolfdir's side as the old man... giant... thing? Finishes ripping apart the first centurion with his bare hands.

Reyvin's guards engage with another of the automatons, keeping it at bay with their halberds and using their enchanted armor to easily avoid getting boiled alive by the steam it sometimes belched from its mouthpiece. Some time later an errant ballista bolt hits the golem as well.

Some of the braver adventurers gather their courage and charge another centurion, their hammers and axes doing some damage, yet not nearly enough to stop one of them from getting speared in the gut and another from being crushed by the hammer arm of the golem.

As another had his throat ripped apart by a lazy arm swing, Phineas, who was hiding nearby, slowly raised his hand toward the still-standing dead Imperial and discreetly overcharged a reanimation spell, making the corpse swing its greatsword with unnatural force and cleave the chest of the automaton in twain, allowing its still living ally to ram a hammer straight into the centurion's dynamo core.

Two more centurions descend on the expeditionary group, one immediately getting shoulder bashed by Tolfdir while the other barreled into the group of foolish mortals that thought grouping up was a good idea. Still, their movement was surprisingly slow, almost as if their limbs were stuck.

As the ancient creation smashed an adventurer who tried to block its strike with a shield,(he would not be missed) Marco blasted it with a wave of force, drawing many incredulous looks from the adventurers due to casting the spell with a lute of all things. 

Minthara didn't allow the staggered centurion a moment to recover and with a burst of magic through her hands she swung down her hammer with all her might and crushed its chest, likely destroying the core in the process.

As the automaton falls Marco points at Minthara "Did you just... break dwarven metal with steel?" He asks dumbly.

She smirks "Too much for you city boy?"

He throws his hands up "That is not how metals work!" 

Another centurion falling next to them interrupts their conversation, Reyvin pulls out his ebony glaive from the thing's head with surprising ease, his three guards huffing near the carcass in complete exhaustion "Come on kiddies, there is still more of them left!" He goads and turns to the one fighting Tolfdir.

Just in time to see the now-clawed hand of the old man rip into the centurion's chest and pull out the core "Oh, this looks important?" Tolfdir asks mockingly as he crushes it in his hand.

Holding back a wince at the wasted material Reyvin sighs, and looks around to see the rest of the centurions have been dealt with "Never mind, we are done."

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(Reyvin's POV)

A faint metallic clicking sound comes out of the ancient panel I had been working on for some time now, my attempts at unlocking the lift into Blackreach were progressing well and they should be done before anyone got antsy.

It has been several hours after the battle against the centurions and our casualties were surprisingly light. People were currently milling about and securing the perimeter as the laborers and remaining adventurers finally arrived, we would still have to set up a proper supply line so I had a bit of time to waste with tinkering with the lock.

"You know you could just transmute the lock with enough power, right?" Edrassa quips from her seat nearby, apparently my little corner of the camp was the quietest so she decided to stick with me, much to my surprise.

I shrug as I twist another tiny cog slightly out of alignment "If I wanted it transmuted I would just ask Master Tolfdir" Another cog fits into a groove perfectly "I still might if I don't manage to unlock this."

"Sure you don't want me to give it a go boss?" Davos asks from his own corner.

I look up at the gathered group, it was mostly my house and apprentices with the only notable exception of a meditating Phineas "This is a learning experience" I give him a pointed look "How many people can say they had the opportunity to tinker with fully preserved Dwemertech?"

"Dyvath Fyr is said to be a great expert on all manner of Dwemer technologies" Edrassa adds 'helpfully' no doubt still annoyed with the fact she had to leave her old house.

I snort "Yeah right, some worth to all that knowledge considering he has been holing up with his selfcest harem for the past five thousand years."

Edrassa scoffs but doesn't respond.

Minthara seems both curious and disgusted as she hears me, the curiosity wins and she asks "What do you mean by... that last part" She winces, unable to repeat the words.

Once again I look up, with some annoyance, and explain in complete deadpan "The madmer actually made clones of himself and made them his daughter wives." 

Minthara shivers in disgust, immediately regretting the question.

Davos on the other hand... "Truly a Mer of culture." He mutters and nods sagely.

As everyone, except yours truly, gives him disgusted looks we once again trail off into the relative silence of my work.

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Finally after a day of tinkering, and another of setting up a proper camp, we were ready to descend the lift. I was rather satisfied when the final click happened and the lift unlocked itself, opening with perfect efficiency even after all these millenia.

I was somewhat worried about Tolfdir's earlier display of power but it appeared the adventurers liked it when someone could put more smash into their smash and some even started pestering the old man for advice on how to achieve such... prestigious proportions.

It was decided that I would get to lead the first excursion and secure the perimeter, there was some protests from Tolfdir as he wanted to make sure I didn't risk myself needlessly but I claimed dibs and that was that.

I entered the lift followed by my household and students, we had no idea how long the lift ride would last and that would decide how aggressively we could afford to act once we descended.

The gates closed and I pulled the lever, the steam-pumps sounded and we started our descent. Ten minutes later the lift was still moving.

Twenty minutes later a very uncomfortable Minthara voiced everyone's concern "Are you sure we aren't going to get buried alive by this thing?"

I of course was, as even if I was by some cosmic joke unable to recognize the lift to Blackreach I had this world's child of destiny next to me, and she would never die in such a manner. I settled on simply shrugging "Blackreach is said to be dug extremely deep below the earth, and this lift is not particularly fast."

This seemed to ease some of them up, and we continued the rest of the ride in silence. Finally, after half an hour of tense lift-riding the contraption stopped and the metal gates opened up revealing a sight that I immediately burned into my mind.

A massive city, easily the size of Solitude stood before us, massive glowing mushrooms surrounded sturdy Dwemer houses and mansions, the central walled settlement standing proud millenia after its residents disappeared.

My companions gasp in wonder at the sight, and I note Minthara focusing on one particular source of light, her eyes met mine and I smirked. It appears she already knew where our true prey awaited.

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