Post by Will on Oct 9, 2011 23:41:27 GMT -5
This story is based around the character from my story The Necromancer’s Curse. Although it’s not absolutely necessary, please read The Necromancer’s Curse before this story. Basically, you’re a Redguard Battlemage who’s born under the sign of the Atronach and can’t regenerate Magicka. Also, I know that the Mage’s Guild in Skyrim is called the College of Winterhold, but I already have it established in my stories as the Academy of Mages in Riften, and it will remain so in my stories.
*************************************************************
You finish reviewing the Apprentice’s essays and combat scores, and stamp the three of them with your seal, approving their promotion within the Academy. You stand and look through the large round window in your study, gazing across the snowy mountaintops, the massive Tundra far in the distance, the city of Whiterun towering over it. The rising sun cast a red glow across the landscape, and thick snow fell from the sky. You never got tired of seeing this view each morning.
For one year now you had been the Arch Mage, training students and assigning Apprentices to perform tasks for the Academy. While you could have asked for no greater honor, you miss the days where you were the one adventuring and fighting for the guild. These days were spent reading and wasting your limited Magicka showing students how to correctly perform spells. You close your fist and surround your hand in fire, and you feel that the flames were growing weak. You walk to the corner of your study, and kick open a large chest. You reach inside and pull out one of the ten remaining Welkynd stones, and crush it in your hand. You feel the Magicka in your veins being charged by the power of the stone, and you shut the chest. Only nine left, you had recently sent some Apprentices to search for Ayleid ruins to gather more of the stones, for without them you had as much Magicka as a brick wall.
You tried not to think about it, but you knew that one day, you would run out of the stones. For months you have searched for a way you could limitlessly absorb Magicka, but aside from having students shoot lightning at you, nothing would work. You walk out of your study, and descend the spiraling staircase down into the entrance hall of the Academy.
Apprentices ran back and forth, trying to get to their various classes. Others sat on the stone benches lining the walls of the entrance hall, their faces buried in books. There was a pair of Apprentices sitting in the corner, a red glow emanating across the glossy tile floor. You walk up and see that they’re sitting around a small fire, obviously magical. You snuff out the flames with a small Frost spell, and the Apprentices jump to their feet.
“No Destruction spells within the Academy. Remember what happened with the Alchemy room last month,” you said sternly to the two Apprentices. They gave you a salute, as though you were the General of an army. You were most likely just paranoid, but it seemed that the students respected you as a warrior, rather than as a Mage. You sigh and continue to wander the grounds.
“Arch Mage! Please, wait!” You turn, and see a young woman in Apprentice robes running towards you, trudging through the thick snow. You recognize her as Anaia, a student who was always bossing around the rest of the Apprentices, not without reason, as she had shown more talent than even most Scholars. She came to a panting halt, and bowed before you. “I bear news from one of the Mages that you assigned to search for ruins.” You bend down to look into the small Breton’s eyes; she was crying.
You place a hand on her shoulder. “What is wrong, Apprentice? What happened?” you ask gently.
“A Mage arrived at the Academy’s gates only minutes ago. He was covered in blood and had this parchment grasped in his hands. When I took it from him, he just…died, right where he stood.” She thrust out a hand with a small, crumpled letter in it. You take it from her and unfold the parchment. The paper was soaked in blood, and you had to tilt the parchment to the sun and read the letters shining between the light.
Arch Mage, I pray to Mara that this letter reaches you, as I fear that I will not. I am the Apprentice Samuel…we found a ruin unlike any I’ve seen before, buried beneath the snow. We entered, in search of Welkynd stones, but it was clear that the ruin was not Ayleid. There were machines, controlled by some invisible force. No Magicka was visible to me. We were going to leave when Trius and K’Ressa were attacked by what appeared to be an armored Giant, it killed Trius instantly but I believe K’Ressa may have escaped deeper into the ruin. From what I know of history, the ruin and machines had to have been created by the Dwemer. Their technology was far more advanced than our own, and when I attempted to fight the monster, it seemed to absorb the Magicka from my spells. It attacked me, and with my limited knowledge of Restoration, I can determine that the wound will be fatal. My ribcage is shattered and I believe a lung is collapsed. As you know, I specialize in Conjuration magic, and it disgusted me to do so, but I had to use Necromancy to raise the body of Trius to deliver this message. There was no other choice, a normal summoned demon would vanish upon my death. I hope you can forgive me of this crime, and if not, my death is certain anyway. The ruin is almost directly south of Windhelm. We dug up the entrance and marked a nearby tree with an Everpyre spell. Unless a Mage in Windhelm extinguished it, it will still burn. I am sure it will be too late for me, but please, Arch Mage, save K’Ressa.
“Sir…K’Ressa is my best friend, you have to help her,” You fold the parchment and slide it into your pocket, and turn to face the young Mage. “Apprentice, if I remember correctly, you specialize in Alteration magic?”
Although there were still tears in her eyes, she stood tall and gave you a proud stare. “Yes sir, best of all the Apprentices.”
“Good. Please follow me,” you said, and you begin to quickly jog towards your tower, the small Breton nearly sprinting to keep up with you. You ascend the stairs into your study, and pull open a large door in the corner of the room. You enter a small square room, not much larger than a walk-in closet, with a large window taking up nearly all of the left wall. The rising sun reflected brightly across the surface of a full suit of Mithril Plate Armor resting on an armor stand in the center of the room.
You had forged it yourself using a design of your own creation: The only known set of platemail armor forged from Mithril in all of Tamriel. As well as the nearly-magical lightness of the seemingly heavy plate, you had personally folded Welkynd dust into the Mithril during it’s forging. Since the Welkynd stone within the armor had already been shattered, it had no ability to restore your Magicka, but with your experiments, you found it to increase the number of spells you could cast before running out of Magicka.
On the other side of the room, hanging from a weapon rack, was a massive claymore, also self-forged from Mithril. Folded into this blade was the dust of a Varla stone, another enchanted relic of the Ayleid people. Much more rare than the Welkynd stones, you discovered that the large, pink Varla stones had the ability to restore the magical power of Enchanted weapons when crushed. It seemed to be unable to restore the Magicka of a living being, but the reasons for this were unknown. The inclusion of Varla dust within the claymore, when combined with the powerful Flame Enchantment on the blade resulted in an enchanted weapon that would never run out of power.
You take the armor off of it’s stand and turn to face the Breton. “Wait outside of my study, Apprentice. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
“Yes, Arch Mage,” she says, and walks quickly out of the room. You pull off your heavy Mage’s robes, and lift the chestplate of the armor. It weighed less than the robes. You strap on the set of armor and lift the claymore from it’s rack. You took advantage of the Mithril’s unnatural lightness, forging the claymore twice as wide and twice as thick as other blades, and still lighter than a steel shortsword. You walk back into your study, kick open your chest, and shovel three Welkynd stones into a cloth sack, which you tie to your belt.
You exit your study, and the Breton is waiting outside the door as instructed. “Apprentice, please teleport me to the city of Windhelm. I will do my best to save K’Ressa. I know you are her friend, so you should know better than any how skilled she is in Illusion magic. She’s likely hiding within the ruins, shrouded by invisibility while waiting for a chance to escape. There is also priceless knowledge and technology within the ruin, once I return K’Ressa to safety I will clear the ruins of danger and we will begin excavating it.”
Anaia seemed shocked by your appearance in the shining armor. “Of course, Arch Mage,” she stutters, and she raises her hands above her head, and in a flash of purple light, you find yourself standing in the Mage’s Hall of Windhelm. You peer out a window; the sun had not yet risen over the mountains to the east, and the forest outside was mostly dark. A door to your right opens and a tall Altmer in blue robes strides into the hall.
“Arch Mage? What brings you to Windhelm, old friend?” he asked, bowing to you and Anaia.
“Master Mage Anthony, I am glad you are here. An urgent message came from a group consisting of three of my Apprentices. They apparently uncovered an ancient Dwemer ruin very close to this city. One was killed, one may have escaped, and the one who sent the message is likely also dead by now. I have to investigate the ruins myself, save the possible survivor and clear the ruin for excavation. The Dwemer were masters at combating Magicka with technology, and as a warrior, I have an advantage other Mages do not. Gather the Mages of this hall. I will enter the ruin alone, you and your Mages will set up a camp outside of the entrance to provide healing or backup, as well as to keep adventurers out of the ruin. Be ready to leave in one hour.”
Anthony stared blankly at you for a few seconds, but then jumped into a loud rant. “A Dwemer ruin right outside of Windhelm? That’s impossible, my Mages have catalogued every Dwemer, Ayleid, and Falmeric ruin in Skyrim!”
“According to the message I received, the entrance was buried deep underground. With the Dwemer’s defenses against Magicka, spells would not have detected it. There are likely dozens like it around Tamriel. We’ll discuss it later, an Apprentice’s life is at stake. As I said, gather your Mages and follow me to the ruins,” you say sternly.
“Yes, Arch Mage,” Anthony says, bowing to you, and he walks out of the room.
“Arch Mage,” Anaia says, nearly yelling in a worryingly determined tone of voice. “The letter says that the creature in the ruin absorbed Magicka cast at it. I specialize in Alteration magic, and know a fair deal about Restoration as well. Let me come with you, I can shield you and heal you as you fight, and have no need to cast at the creature itself.”
You sigh, realizing that if you refused her, she would just sneak in after you anyway. It’s what you would have done in her position. “Anaia, if not for your young age, you would be a Scholar already. Your Alteration magic is indeed stronger than most I’ve seen. Very well, come with me. Focus on shield spells during combat. Also, with the recent snowfall, it is possible that the ruins could be flooded, in which case we can use your water breathing magic. When we find K’Ressa, you can teleport her out as I continue to clear the ruins. Do not attempt to fight, only protect yourself and me.”
“Of course, Arch Mage. I promise, I will not get in your way.”
*********************************************************
An hour later, you, Anaia, Antony, and seven other Mages depart from the Windhelm Mage’s Hall. You trudge through the snow-covered stone streets, past closed shops and houses with boarded up windows to keep the cold out, smoke rising from every chimney. It would take all day to reach the ruins in this snow, and by then it could be too late. You unsheathe your claymore, and hold the blade out in front of you. The Flame enchantment melts the snow before you instantly, clearing a path for you and the others to walk in.
You reach the main gate of the city, and the guardsmen push it open for you and your party. Two hours of hiking later, and you see smoke rising over a hill in the distance. “This is it. They marked a tree with Everpyre, it’s the only thing that could burn through such a blizzard,” you yell over the howling wind. As you pass over the hill, you see that it is indeed a tall pine tree, burning in a raging inferno. As you reach the base of the tree, you see an indentation in the snow, likely the entrance to the ruin. You throw a small Fireball, and the snow melts away, revealing a large, circular, rust-colored metal door inside of a three foot deep hole.
“Master Mage, come here, please!” you shout through the wind. Anthony slowly makes his way over to you, shielding his eyes with his arm.
“This blizzard is unbelievable! What do you need, Arch Mage?”
“Now that we know the exact location of the ruin, please teleport back to Windhelm and bring some guards and tents with you. I have no idea how large this ruin is, we could be in there for over a day. Set up camp around the ruin, and watch the entrance. If I find my missing Apprentice, Anaia will teleport with her to this camp. Give her any necessary healing and see that she is returned to the Academy,” you instruct him. “After a base is set up, clear the area of snow and begin to gather workers for excavation.”
“Of course, sir,” he says loudly. “MAGES, GET BACK TO WINDHELM AND GATHER TENTS AND WOOD, WE’RE GOING TO BE HERE FOR A GOOD WHILE!” he yelled at the top of his lungs for everyone to hear through the blizzard. The seven Mages vanished, leaving traces of the purple Teleportation magic.
“Me and Anaia are going in. I trust the perimeter to you and your Mages. Anaia will return within one day, with or without me.” Anaia looked indignant, but did not argue. “I will not return until the ruin is clear of any threats, but if I am not out within three days, bury this place and never return. That order is absolute. Nobody knows what the Dwemer were capable of.”
“Understood, Arch Mage,” Anthony says, bowing to you, and he vanishes in a flash of purple light.
You walk towards the large hold in the ground, jumping down into it and helping Anaia down behind you. You keel down on top of the large round door, checking for any sign on how to open it.
“I’ll get it!” Anaia says, crouching down and placing a hand on the large door. Her hand glows purple and you hear a series of loud clicks and bangs, and the door begins to slide open beneath your feet. You stumble and fall through the door, landing inside of a dark, metal hallway, and Anaia climbs down behind you. You were very glad Anaia was with you, as it would be horrible having to use your limited Magicka to open doors.
“Anaia, please give us some light,” you whisper, and she raises her hand, conjuring a ball of greenish light, which hovers beside her head as you walk. The hallway was straight, tall, and very, very long. It had the same rusty color as the outside door, and runes carved into lines on the walls. It seemed to bring you miles underground, extending infinitely into the darkness. Finally, after what seemed like hours, you come to another of the round doors. Anaia places her hand on it, and after the clicking and banging, the door slides into the floor.
You walk into a large, rectangular chamber, with an open door on the other side of the long room, and a circular hole in the roof of the chamber. Looking around, you see a man laying against a wall to your right. You run to him, and see that it was Samuel, the one who sent the message. You check for a pulse, but his body was cold. There was a bloodstain about fifteen feet away, but no body. The blood must have belonged to Trius. There was no other sign of death in the large chamber, and the door across the room was open. There was no other way out of the room, save for the path you came from.
“Be careful, Anaia, this is where they were attacked. Prepare yourself,” you whisper, and begin to slowly walk through the chamber, eyes locked on the door across from you.
“MOVE!” You’re thrown aside by a Telekinesis spell from Anaia, and are nearly deafened by a massive crash. You roll to your feet, and stare wide-eyed at the monster in front of you. Fifteen feet tall, constructed from the same rust-colored metal as the rest of the ruin. It would have landed right on you if Anaia had not knocked you out of the way. Steel plates and rotating cogs covered it’s body, and it had a massive, seven foot tall war hammer gripped in it’s steel hands.
It must have dropped through the large hole in the ceiling, as there was no other possible entrance to the room. It turns to face you, the empty eye sockets in it’s helmet suddenly glowing blue. It raises the hammer above it’s head, and you dive out of the way just as it smashes into the ground where you had just stood, leaving a foot-deep dent in the metal floor. The top half of it’s body rotates, grinding the hammer across the floor, sparks exploding from the ground, nearly blinding you. You see a purple magic shield appear in front of you, the hammer slamming into it and redirecting itself towards Anaia.
You lift your claymore, and sprint towards the Golem, shoving the blade into it’s midsection up to the hilt. Hot sparks shower you as the weapon’s Flame enchantment melts down the steel innards of the monster, and it collapses heavily at your feet. Suddenly, it’s arms twist around and slam into your chest, knocking the breath out of you and sending you flying through the air. You crash into the ground, breathing heavily. Luckily your armor had taken the brunt of the hit, and you struggle to your feet. The Golem began to crawl towards you, and you swing your claymore through the air, slashing it onto the creature’s head, but it bounces off pathetically.
You look at the blade, and you see that the Flame enchantment was gone. The Golem had absorbed the magic directly from the blade. The Welkynd would restore it eventually, but for now the weapon was next to useless against the monster’s metal body. The Golem gets to it’s feet and charges at you with surprising speed. You get ready to dodge, but Anaia throws another shield spell in front of you, and the Golem crashes into it head first. The impact dislodges it’s right arm, and it drops the hammer. It’s arm is hanging by one wire, and it stumbles backwards, it’s rusty body groaning from the damage, sparks leaking through it’s armor. You run over to it’s fallen hammer and grip the handle tightly, but it won’t budge. It was much too heavy for a human to lift, and was much taller than you were.
You still grip the handle of the hammer, and summon up your magical power. You surround the hammer with the most powerful fire you could conjure without instantly depleting all of your Magicka, and turn to Anaia.
“TELEKINESIS, NOW!” And she runs forward, swinging her hands as though she was wielding the hammer, and it lifts off the ground and spirals through the air, smashing into the Golem’s torso. It drives it into the wall, the powerful flames turning it’s steel body into molten magma. Nothing was left of it but a pile of scrap.
“There’s no time to lose,” Anaia said. “We have to find K’Ressa,” and she jogs towards the door in the back of the room. You follow her to the door, and peer into the darkness. This hall was much smaller, and seemed to twist in many directions. You choose the path to the left, and Anaia follows closely behind you, her light orb hovering beside her head. After five minutes of walking you come to another of the round Dwemer doors. Anaia opens it, and shrieks and jumps back as a blast of flame bursts from the darkness.
“Wait, Anaia, is that you?” A female Khajiit limps through the door, a look of elation on her catlike face.
“K’RESSA!” Anaia ran over to the Khajiit and hugged her. “Are you okay, K’Ressa? Are you hurt?”
“I have a torn muscle in my leg but nothing worse than that. What about Samuel and Trius? Did they escape?” she asked excitedly.
You step forward and bow to K’Ressa. “I am sorry, Apprentice. They were killed by the Dwemer Golem.” You felt it unnecessary to explain that Samuel had used Necromancy in order to save her. Nobody needed to find that out, he deserved respect, even with his less-than-legal methods. “We have their bodies, and will give them proper burials once we return to Riften. Anaia, please heal K’Ressa and return her to the surface. I will continue through the ruins.”
K’Ressa was crying with the news of her fallen friends, and Anaia had an arm around her. “Yes, Arch Mage. Should I send others in after you?”
“No, we still don’t know what’s further down in the ruins. Stay in the camp and wait for my return,” you say quietly, and you walk out of the room, towards the path on the right. This one was similar to the entrance hallway, very tall and seemingly infinite. It turned out to be much shorter, as you reach a large stone door after only a few minutes. It was unlike the other doors, much taller, at least twenty feet high. You reach into your pack and shatter one of the three Welkynd stones, and then fire a large explosive fireball into the door, which shatters into rubble. You come into a massive, circular chamber, with many levels descending further underground. It was nearly pitch black, and you fire a ball of light down into the abyss. Your eyes open wide at the sight before you.
Hundreds of Golems, sinking infinitely into the darkness below. Your light spell hits the bottom of the cavern, seemingly miles away. With a deafening roar of metal grinding, every one of them begins to stir.
TO BE CONTINUED.
*************************************************************
You finish reviewing the Apprentice’s essays and combat scores, and stamp the three of them with your seal, approving their promotion within the Academy. You stand and look through the large round window in your study, gazing across the snowy mountaintops, the massive Tundra far in the distance, the city of Whiterun towering over it. The rising sun cast a red glow across the landscape, and thick snow fell from the sky. You never got tired of seeing this view each morning.
For one year now you had been the Arch Mage, training students and assigning Apprentices to perform tasks for the Academy. While you could have asked for no greater honor, you miss the days where you were the one adventuring and fighting for the guild. These days were spent reading and wasting your limited Magicka showing students how to correctly perform spells. You close your fist and surround your hand in fire, and you feel that the flames were growing weak. You walk to the corner of your study, and kick open a large chest. You reach inside and pull out one of the ten remaining Welkynd stones, and crush it in your hand. You feel the Magicka in your veins being charged by the power of the stone, and you shut the chest. Only nine left, you had recently sent some Apprentices to search for Ayleid ruins to gather more of the stones, for without them you had as much Magicka as a brick wall.
You tried not to think about it, but you knew that one day, you would run out of the stones. For months you have searched for a way you could limitlessly absorb Magicka, but aside from having students shoot lightning at you, nothing would work. You walk out of your study, and descend the spiraling staircase down into the entrance hall of the Academy.
Apprentices ran back and forth, trying to get to their various classes. Others sat on the stone benches lining the walls of the entrance hall, their faces buried in books. There was a pair of Apprentices sitting in the corner, a red glow emanating across the glossy tile floor. You walk up and see that they’re sitting around a small fire, obviously magical. You snuff out the flames with a small Frost spell, and the Apprentices jump to their feet.
“No Destruction spells within the Academy. Remember what happened with the Alchemy room last month,” you said sternly to the two Apprentices. They gave you a salute, as though you were the General of an army. You were most likely just paranoid, but it seemed that the students respected you as a warrior, rather than as a Mage. You sigh and continue to wander the grounds.
“Arch Mage! Please, wait!” You turn, and see a young woman in Apprentice robes running towards you, trudging through the thick snow. You recognize her as Anaia, a student who was always bossing around the rest of the Apprentices, not without reason, as she had shown more talent than even most Scholars. She came to a panting halt, and bowed before you. “I bear news from one of the Mages that you assigned to search for ruins.” You bend down to look into the small Breton’s eyes; she was crying.
You place a hand on her shoulder. “What is wrong, Apprentice? What happened?” you ask gently.
“A Mage arrived at the Academy’s gates only minutes ago. He was covered in blood and had this parchment grasped in his hands. When I took it from him, he just…died, right where he stood.” She thrust out a hand with a small, crumpled letter in it. You take it from her and unfold the parchment. The paper was soaked in blood, and you had to tilt the parchment to the sun and read the letters shining between the light.
Arch Mage, I pray to Mara that this letter reaches you, as I fear that I will not. I am the Apprentice Samuel…we found a ruin unlike any I’ve seen before, buried beneath the snow. We entered, in search of Welkynd stones, but it was clear that the ruin was not Ayleid. There were machines, controlled by some invisible force. No Magicka was visible to me. We were going to leave when Trius and K’Ressa were attacked by what appeared to be an armored Giant, it killed Trius instantly but I believe K’Ressa may have escaped deeper into the ruin. From what I know of history, the ruin and machines had to have been created by the Dwemer. Their technology was far more advanced than our own, and when I attempted to fight the monster, it seemed to absorb the Magicka from my spells. It attacked me, and with my limited knowledge of Restoration, I can determine that the wound will be fatal. My ribcage is shattered and I believe a lung is collapsed. As you know, I specialize in Conjuration magic, and it disgusted me to do so, but I had to use Necromancy to raise the body of Trius to deliver this message. There was no other choice, a normal summoned demon would vanish upon my death. I hope you can forgive me of this crime, and if not, my death is certain anyway. The ruin is almost directly south of Windhelm. We dug up the entrance and marked a nearby tree with an Everpyre spell. Unless a Mage in Windhelm extinguished it, it will still burn. I am sure it will be too late for me, but please, Arch Mage, save K’Ressa.
“Sir…K’Ressa is my best friend, you have to help her,” You fold the parchment and slide it into your pocket, and turn to face the young Mage. “Apprentice, if I remember correctly, you specialize in Alteration magic?”
Although there were still tears in her eyes, she stood tall and gave you a proud stare. “Yes sir, best of all the Apprentices.”
“Good. Please follow me,” you said, and you begin to quickly jog towards your tower, the small Breton nearly sprinting to keep up with you. You ascend the stairs into your study, and pull open a large door in the corner of the room. You enter a small square room, not much larger than a walk-in closet, with a large window taking up nearly all of the left wall. The rising sun reflected brightly across the surface of a full suit of Mithril Plate Armor resting on an armor stand in the center of the room.
You had forged it yourself using a design of your own creation: The only known set of platemail armor forged from Mithril in all of Tamriel. As well as the nearly-magical lightness of the seemingly heavy plate, you had personally folded Welkynd dust into the Mithril during it’s forging. Since the Welkynd stone within the armor had already been shattered, it had no ability to restore your Magicka, but with your experiments, you found it to increase the number of spells you could cast before running out of Magicka.
On the other side of the room, hanging from a weapon rack, was a massive claymore, also self-forged from Mithril. Folded into this blade was the dust of a Varla stone, another enchanted relic of the Ayleid people. Much more rare than the Welkynd stones, you discovered that the large, pink Varla stones had the ability to restore the magical power of Enchanted weapons when crushed. It seemed to be unable to restore the Magicka of a living being, but the reasons for this were unknown. The inclusion of Varla dust within the claymore, when combined with the powerful Flame Enchantment on the blade resulted in an enchanted weapon that would never run out of power.
You take the armor off of it’s stand and turn to face the Breton. “Wait outside of my study, Apprentice. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
“Yes, Arch Mage,” she says, and walks quickly out of the room. You pull off your heavy Mage’s robes, and lift the chestplate of the armor. It weighed less than the robes. You strap on the set of armor and lift the claymore from it’s rack. You took advantage of the Mithril’s unnatural lightness, forging the claymore twice as wide and twice as thick as other blades, and still lighter than a steel shortsword. You walk back into your study, kick open your chest, and shovel three Welkynd stones into a cloth sack, which you tie to your belt.
You exit your study, and the Breton is waiting outside the door as instructed. “Apprentice, please teleport me to the city of Windhelm. I will do my best to save K’Ressa. I know you are her friend, so you should know better than any how skilled she is in Illusion magic. She’s likely hiding within the ruins, shrouded by invisibility while waiting for a chance to escape. There is also priceless knowledge and technology within the ruin, once I return K’Ressa to safety I will clear the ruins of danger and we will begin excavating it.”
Anaia seemed shocked by your appearance in the shining armor. “Of course, Arch Mage,” she stutters, and she raises her hands above her head, and in a flash of purple light, you find yourself standing in the Mage’s Hall of Windhelm. You peer out a window; the sun had not yet risen over the mountains to the east, and the forest outside was mostly dark. A door to your right opens and a tall Altmer in blue robes strides into the hall.
“Arch Mage? What brings you to Windhelm, old friend?” he asked, bowing to you and Anaia.
“Master Mage Anthony, I am glad you are here. An urgent message came from a group consisting of three of my Apprentices. They apparently uncovered an ancient Dwemer ruin very close to this city. One was killed, one may have escaped, and the one who sent the message is likely also dead by now. I have to investigate the ruins myself, save the possible survivor and clear the ruin for excavation. The Dwemer were masters at combating Magicka with technology, and as a warrior, I have an advantage other Mages do not. Gather the Mages of this hall. I will enter the ruin alone, you and your Mages will set up a camp outside of the entrance to provide healing or backup, as well as to keep adventurers out of the ruin. Be ready to leave in one hour.”
Anthony stared blankly at you for a few seconds, but then jumped into a loud rant. “A Dwemer ruin right outside of Windhelm? That’s impossible, my Mages have catalogued every Dwemer, Ayleid, and Falmeric ruin in Skyrim!”
“According to the message I received, the entrance was buried deep underground. With the Dwemer’s defenses against Magicka, spells would not have detected it. There are likely dozens like it around Tamriel. We’ll discuss it later, an Apprentice’s life is at stake. As I said, gather your Mages and follow me to the ruins,” you say sternly.
“Yes, Arch Mage,” Anthony says, bowing to you, and he walks out of the room.
“Arch Mage,” Anaia says, nearly yelling in a worryingly determined tone of voice. “The letter says that the creature in the ruin absorbed Magicka cast at it. I specialize in Alteration magic, and know a fair deal about Restoration as well. Let me come with you, I can shield you and heal you as you fight, and have no need to cast at the creature itself.”
You sigh, realizing that if you refused her, she would just sneak in after you anyway. It’s what you would have done in her position. “Anaia, if not for your young age, you would be a Scholar already. Your Alteration magic is indeed stronger than most I’ve seen. Very well, come with me. Focus on shield spells during combat. Also, with the recent snowfall, it is possible that the ruins could be flooded, in which case we can use your water breathing magic. When we find K’Ressa, you can teleport her out as I continue to clear the ruins. Do not attempt to fight, only protect yourself and me.”
“Of course, Arch Mage. I promise, I will not get in your way.”
*********************************************************
An hour later, you, Anaia, Antony, and seven other Mages depart from the Windhelm Mage’s Hall. You trudge through the snow-covered stone streets, past closed shops and houses with boarded up windows to keep the cold out, smoke rising from every chimney. It would take all day to reach the ruins in this snow, and by then it could be too late. You unsheathe your claymore, and hold the blade out in front of you. The Flame enchantment melts the snow before you instantly, clearing a path for you and the others to walk in.
You reach the main gate of the city, and the guardsmen push it open for you and your party. Two hours of hiking later, and you see smoke rising over a hill in the distance. “This is it. They marked a tree with Everpyre, it’s the only thing that could burn through such a blizzard,” you yell over the howling wind. As you pass over the hill, you see that it is indeed a tall pine tree, burning in a raging inferno. As you reach the base of the tree, you see an indentation in the snow, likely the entrance to the ruin. You throw a small Fireball, and the snow melts away, revealing a large, circular, rust-colored metal door inside of a three foot deep hole.
“Master Mage, come here, please!” you shout through the wind. Anthony slowly makes his way over to you, shielding his eyes with his arm.
“This blizzard is unbelievable! What do you need, Arch Mage?”
“Now that we know the exact location of the ruin, please teleport back to Windhelm and bring some guards and tents with you. I have no idea how large this ruin is, we could be in there for over a day. Set up camp around the ruin, and watch the entrance. If I find my missing Apprentice, Anaia will teleport with her to this camp. Give her any necessary healing and see that she is returned to the Academy,” you instruct him. “After a base is set up, clear the area of snow and begin to gather workers for excavation.”
“Of course, sir,” he says loudly. “MAGES, GET BACK TO WINDHELM AND GATHER TENTS AND WOOD, WE’RE GOING TO BE HERE FOR A GOOD WHILE!” he yelled at the top of his lungs for everyone to hear through the blizzard. The seven Mages vanished, leaving traces of the purple Teleportation magic.
“Me and Anaia are going in. I trust the perimeter to you and your Mages. Anaia will return within one day, with or without me.” Anaia looked indignant, but did not argue. “I will not return until the ruin is clear of any threats, but if I am not out within three days, bury this place and never return. That order is absolute. Nobody knows what the Dwemer were capable of.”
“Understood, Arch Mage,” Anthony says, bowing to you, and he vanishes in a flash of purple light.
You walk towards the large hold in the ground, jumping down into it and helping Anaia down behind you. You keel down on top of the large round door, checking for any sign on how to open it.
“I’ll get it!” Anaia says, crouching down and placing a hand on the large door. Her hand glows purple and you hear a series of loud clicks and bangs, and the door begins to slide open beneath your feet. You stumble and fall through the door, landing inside of a dark, metal hallway, and Anaia climbs down behind you. You were very glad Anaia was with you, as it would be horrible having to use your limited Magicka to open doors.
“Anaia, please give us some light,” you whisper, and she raises her hand, conjuring a ball of greenish light, which hovers beside her head as you walk. The hallway was straight, tall, and very, very long. It had the same rusty color as the outside door, and runes carved into lines on the walls. It seemed to bring you miles underground, extending infinitely into the darkness. Finally, after what seemed like hours, you come to another of the round doors. Anaia places her hand on it, and after the clicking and banging, the door slides into the floor.
You walk into a large, rectangular chamber, with an open door on the other side of the long room, and a circular hole in the roof of the chamber. Looking around, you see a man laying against a wall to your right. You run to him, and see that it was Samuel, the one who sent the message. You check for a pulse, but his body was cold. There was a bloodstain about fifteen feet away, but no body. The blood must have belonged to Trius. There was no other sign of death in the large chamber, and the door across the room was open. There was no other way out of the room, save for the path you came from.
“Be careful, Anaia, this is where they were attacked. Prepare yourself,” you whisper, and begin to slowly walk through the chamber, eyes locked on the door across from you.
“MOVE!” You’re thrown aside by a Telekinesis spell from Anaia, and are nearly deafened by a massive crash. You roll to your feet, and stare wide-eyed at the monster in front of you. Fifteen feet tall, constructed from the same rust-colored metal as the rest of the ruin. It would have landed right on you if Anaia had not knocked you out of the way. Steel plates and rotating cogs covered it’s body, and it had a massive, seven foot tall war hammer gripped in it’s steel hands.
It must have dropped through the large hole in the ceiling, as there was no other possible entrance to the room. It turns to face you, the empty eye sockets in it’s helmet suddenly glowing blue. It raises the hammer above it’s head, and you dive out of the way just as it smashes into the ground where you had just stood, leaving a foot-deep dent in the metal floor. The top half of it’s body rotates, grinding the hammer across the floor, sparks exploding from the ground, nearly blinding you. You see a purple magic shield appear in front of you, the hammer slamming into it and redirecting itself towards Anaia.
You lift your claymore, and sprint towards the Golem, shoving the blade into it’s midsection up to the hilt. Hot sparks shower you as the weapon’s Flame enchantment melts down the steel innards of the monster, and it collapses heavily at your feet. Suddenly, it’s arms twist around and slam into your chest, knocking the breath out of you and sending you flying through the air. You crash into the ground, breathing heavily. Luckily your armor had taken the brunt of the hit, and you struggle to your feet. The Golem began to crawl towards you, and you swing your claymore through the air, slashing it onto the creature’s head, but it bounces off pathetically.
You look at the blade, and you see that the Flame enchantment was gone. The Golem had absorbed the magic directly from the blade. The Welkynd would restore it eventually, but for now the weapon was next to useless against the monster’s metal body. The Golem gets to it’s feet and charges at you with surprising speed. You get ready to dodge, but Anaia throws another shield spell in front of you, and the Golem crashes into it head first. The impact dislodges it’s right arm, and it drops the hammer. It’s arm is hanging by one wire, and it stumbles backwards, it’s rusty body groaning from the damage, sparks leaking through it’s armor. You run over to it’s fallen hammer and grip the handle tightly, but it won’t budge. It was much too heavy for a human to lift, and was much taller than you were.
You still grip the handle of the hammer, and summon up your magical power. You surround the hammer with the most powerful fire you could conjure without instantly depleting all of your Magicka, and turn to Anaia.
“TELEKINESIS, NOW!” And she runs forward, swinging her hands as though she was wielding the hammer, and it lifts off the ground and spirals through the air, smashing into the Golem’s torso. It drives it into the wall, the powerful flames turning it’s steel body into molten magma. Nothing was left of it but a pile of scrap.
“There’s no time to lose,” Anaia said. “We have to find K’Ressa,” and she jogs towards the door in the back of the room. You follow her to the door, and peer into the darkness. This hall was much smaller, and seemed to twist in many directions. You choose the path to the left, and Anaia follows closely behind you, her light orb hovering beside her head. After five minutes of walking you come to another of the round Dwemer doors. Anaia opens it, and shrieks and jumps back as a blast of flame bursts from the darkness.
“Wait, Anaia, is that you?” A female Khajiit limps through the door, a look of elation on her catlike face.
“K’RESSA!” Anaia ran over to the Khajiit and hugged her. “Are you okay, K’Ressa? Are you hurt?”
“I have a torn muscle in my leg but nothing worse than that. What about Samuel and Trius? Did they escape?” she asked excitedly.
You step forward and bow to K’Ressa. “I am sorry, Apprentice. They were killed by the Dwemer Golem.” You felt it unnecessary to explain that Samuel had used Necromancy in order to save her. Nobody needed to find that out, he deserved respect, even with his less-than-legal methods. “We have their bodies, and will give them proper burials once we return to Riften. Anaia, please heal K’Ressa and return her to the surface. I will continue through the ruins.”
K’Ressa was crying with the news of her fallen friends, and Anaia had an arm around her. “Yes, Arch Mage. Should I send others in after you?”
“No, we still don’t know what’s further down in the ruins. Stay in the camp and wait for my return,” you say quietly, and you walk out of the room, towards the path on the right. This one was similar to the entrance hallway, very tall and seemingly infinite. It turned out to be much shorter, as you reach a large stone door after only a few minutes. It was unlike the other doors, much taller, at least twenty feet high. You reach into your pack and shatter one of the three Welkynd stones, and then fire a large explosive fireball into the door, which shatters into rubble. You come into a massive, circular chamber, with many levels descending further underground. It was nearly pitch black, and you fire a ball of light down into the abyss. Your eyes open wide at the sight before you.
Hundreds of Golems, sinking infinitely into the darkness below. Your light spell hits the bottom of the cavern, seemingly miles away. With a deafening roar of metal grinding, every one of them begins to stir.
TO BE CONTINUED.