Skyrim Day 024 & 025 - Mzulft, the Unpronounceable Ruin

9 Heartfire, 4E201

Whiterun

~~~

No rest for the weary indeed.

I woke yesterday morning and once again sought out Mirabelle to see if she could answer my latest questions. While wandering about the College I briefly stopped to chat with J'zargo, but he only had boastful things to say about himself, as I suspect is usual. Mirabelle admitted that no one knew where the Staff of Magnus was, but that one of the magical factions in Cyrodiil, the Synod, had recently sent its members to the College to inquire after the same. After sending them away she overheard them discuss their next destination: the Dwemer ruin of Mzulft.

According to what she heard, the ruin was dug into the mountains along the hot springs where I had visited the tree 'Eldergleam'. Another long walk.

So it was out into the snow and ice once again. I had not made it far outside Winterhold before I began to hear shouting carried along by the ever-present stormy winds. Ahead of me a group of hunters were trying to shoot down a Troll that had wandered into their camp. By the time I had gotten close enough to effectively fire my crossbow the hunters were dead and the Troll weakened enough that two bolts into its back were enough to put it down.

One of the hunters had ring with a minor enchantment, but the rest just had bows, axes, and leathers. I found a book inside of one of the tents that provided guidance on how better to move silently while armored, a skill I feel I must continue to work on.

It was early in the afternoon when I arrived at the springs and a helpful hunter directed me towards Mzulft, warning me that others had entered, but none yet left. With that she wished me luck, resuming her scraping of the hide of some creature unfortunate enough to find its way in front of her bow.

The ruins appeared to be similar to every other Dwemer ruin I have visited, it appears they did not value creativity, variety, or artistic talent of any sort. A small, locked storeroom built outside the entrance yielded to my meager lock-picking skill, but there was nothing of value inside and only one item of interest: a curiously blue, metallic emblem.

Naturally I took it.

Just inside the main entrance a man lay dying, a mage of Synod order. All I could hear of his last moments was the word "Oculory". On his body I found the group's journal, which was not helpful, and a key to proceed further into the ruin, which was.

Mzulft contains all of the decorations common with the Dwemer: stoic visages and tubes that shot burning steam everywhere. The constructs were still clattering around well after their architects had departed this Plane, but this was not my first Dwemer ruin, try as I might to limit my adventures into them. I recognized the portals built into the walls that would likely eject a hostile machine as I passed and the spider-like creations patrolling the halls proved rather susceptible to crossbow bolts.

Deeper inside the ruin were the detestable Chaurus, large insects that could swarm an unlucky adventurer if she found herself overwhelmed or asleep. One of these two things had happened to a Synod mage camping atop a hastily-built watchtower, but I only encountered the bugs one at a time and had no difficulty with them.

The natural cavern merged back into the Dwemer architecture and the Chaurus were replaced with more Dwemer creations that fell out of holes in the walls, crawled from behind steam vents, and generally made as much a nuisance of themselves as they could. The spider-like crawling things were the most common, but more articulated warriors were built into spheres that they managed to roll on while firing crossbows at me and swinging blades. Defeating one of them earned me a handful of Dwemer crossbow bolts which, surprisingly, fit my own.

These warriors seemed to draw their power from soul gems inserted into their foreheads and I managed to salvage a 'Greater' soul gem which I am sure I can sell for a decent amount.

Eventually my soul gem collecting brought me to a door in front of which lay a dead Falmer, as if murderous machines and acid-spitting giant bugs were not enough trouble.

Evidently the creature succumbed to injuries sustained against two destroyed Dwemer spider-machines and I had little doubt there would be more Falmer behind the door. I have little experience with fighting the things, for my time spent in Skyrim previously was largely limited to chopping wood and walking alongside wagons, activities which kept me from the underground where the Falmer exclusively lived. It is said their dwelling underground has blinded them, but that their hearing is exceptional. That may be true, but also fails to explain how they still manage to craft their crude swords and shields.

The blind Falmer fell one after another to my Dwemer crossbow bolts and I continued deeper into Mzulft, finding absolutely nothing else of interest or value. Eventually my wandering brought me before a door with the trembling voice of an Imperial sounding behind it, Paratus Decimius, the sole survivor of the Synod expedition.

Paratus explained that his group had been trying to find a focusing crystal to power an astronomy machine that would lead them to objects of great power. I searched through my satchel for anything that appeared to be a crystal, but the only thing I had was the blue emblem which he dismissed as worthless. However, what I took to be a Falmer ornament wound up being the crystal Paratus sought. He led me to the astronomy machine and placed the focusing crystal on top of it.

Instantly a beam of light shot from the crystal into the ceiling.

According to Paratus the crystal could be manipulated by striking it with frost and fire magicka, two things I am not very good at doing. He took my honesty rather poorly, snapping that it was fortunate for me that a member of his team brought the simplest books he could find to sell in Skyrim. I ignored his attempts at humor and studied the books. They were, as he said, very simple and after a bit of study I felt ready to try both sets of spells.

The fire magicka did nothing when directed against the crystal, but the frost spell rotated it within the cradle, reflecting the beam of light into multiple points along the ceiling. After some minutes of exhausting myself with the easiest of Destruction magicka, Paratus nodded and told me to manipulate the buttons behind the machine to spin the ceiling until each beam of light was focused into its own mirror.

This was simple enough, each button turned one of the rings on the ceiling by a certain amount. Lining each one up with the reflected beams was trivial.

Once directed, the beams reflected back into the crystal and projected a surprisingly detailed map of the Tamriel on the wall.

I figured that Paratus would be happy with this result, but he was quite angry. He asked if I was playing some sort of joke on him, but I had no idea what he was talking about. According to his ranting the map should have shown the location of several magical artifacts the Synod were interested in but he claimed "interference" was affecting the output of the Dwemer machine, causing it to point to the College he and his colleagues had left several days ago. He shouted that if "we" wanted the Staff of Magnus so badly then "we" could meet our deaths in Labyrinthian for all he cared...which is exactly the information I had come to Mzulft to find. It was back to the College for me.

As I was leaving the ruins a mage of the Psijic Order popped into existence before me and congratulated me on what little progress I had made, stating that I was on the way towards the aversion of catastrophe. A nice morale booster, that.

Accustomed to using the sun to determine the time of day, I was confused for a moment as I stepped back outside, only to realize that it was already the next day, 9 Heartfire, and I had spent the previous afternoon, evening, and entire night fighting in the ruins of Mzulft. Fate was kind to this tired Khajiit and the long walk back to the College of Winterhold was completed without any incident.

My arrival at the College however was met with quite a bit of incident. The stupid Thalmor, Arcano, managed to shield the Hall of Elements from everyone while he worked on unlocking the mysterious Eye of Magnus. Arch-Mage Savos and Mirabelle were at the entrance when I arrived, both of them attempting to overwhelm the barrier with powerful magicka.

The Arch-Mage insisted that I lend my meager ability towards their effort and miraculously all three of us managed to destroy Arcano's barrier. Savos immediately charged at Arcano as Mirabelle shouted a warning to not do just that. Her warning was not heeded and suddenly there was a blinding explosion.

I woke moments later against the stone wall outside a second barrier. Mirabelle was nearby, slouched against a column. The Arch-Mage was nowhere to be seen, the explosion having flung him into the courtyard, killing him. Tolfdir and the other members of the College came running out of the dormitories, but towards the town of Winterhold, not the body of the Arch-Mage. They stopped at my shout and only then did they realize the Arch-Mage was dead. But there were worse things about than a dead mage. The explosion had somehow brought forth a herd of floating spirits that were busy attempting to level the unfortunate town. Tolfdir and the others had been running to the town's aid before I stopped them. With the Arch-Mage's death Tolfdir decided to keep everyone inside the college, sending me, of course, to the town alone.

Faralda was still guarding the entryway to the College, cautiously zapping any of the spirits that wobbled too close to her. She seemed relieved to see me, suggesting that the both of us work together to clear the town of whatever the things were. I agreed and we crept into the deserted town, the villagers and guards having taken refuge within the few buildings still standing. With my crossbow and Farlda's spells, the little balls of energy had no chance.

The situation was just as grim when we returned to the College. Faralda joined the others in the dormitory and I entered the Hall of Elements to check on Mirabelle. Arcano's barrier was still up, but the Arch-Mage's second-in-command was still okay, though a bit shaky.

I told her that the Staff of Magnus was to be found in Labyrinthian, between Whiterun, Solitude, and Morthal. She appeared puzzled or possibly concussed, remarking that the Arch-Mage had gifted her with an ordinary necklace before he died, stating that she would know what to do with it when the time came. Mirabelle decided that the time came about half an hour after that, handing me the necklace while telling me she was sure it would be helpful where I was going. I do hope she did not strike her head too hard on the column.

So it was back on the road for me without any sleep. An Argonian leaped at me from behind some bushes and died with a very surprised look on his face as he impaled himself on my sword. He had a very nice Dwemer dagger, which I am happy to now call my own.

It was late into the evening when I arrived at Whiterun, but a courier was waiting for me nonetheless. He handed me a sealed scroll, bowed, and left for the city's gate as I began to walk by him. The scroll was an invitation to an incredibly cruel joke.

A museum dedicated to the Mythic Dawn, the cult which destroyed the Septim lineage and brought the Empire to its knees, almost in submission to Mehrunes Dagon. Only through my unsung effort and the sacrifice of Martin Septim was the destruction of civilization averted, though at great cost.

And now someone wanted to give them a museum? Such arrogance from this Silus Vesuius person certainly deserves a personal response. The museum is also his home in Dawnstar, a village I found many years ago to be hostile to Khajiit looking for work. I believe it is time for another visit.

One of the Khajiit caravans was stopped at Whiterun, allowing me to unload a great deal of jewelry and gemstones taken along the way in exchange for a fine Dwemer long blade. The caravan master, Ri'Saad and I spoke of our respective travels for a bit and we parted cordially, his people beginning to set up camp for the night. The sight of the Khajiit gathering around the fire made me feel a bit lonely, so I hurried into the city so that I might be distracted.

It felt like a very long walk from the inside of the city gate to the 'Bannered Mare' inn, but I finally am gong to be getting a good night's rest. Tomorrow I strike for Labyrinthian and the Staff of Magnus. I joined the College so that I might further my skill and have yet to actually perform any useful magicka there. Such is my life.

Oblivion Day 25 - Delivering the Mysterium Xarxes

21 Heartfire, 3E433
Cloud Ruler Temple
~~~

Things continue to escalate, seemingly out of control. My discovery yesterday of the Mythic Dawn's secret hide-away and the knowledge that my battle will have to continue into a third Realm outside of my own and Oblivion has already been over-shadowed by today's revelations, but I have no other course but forwards.

My first stop this morning was the Oblivion gate I found last night. It was a small Plane with the two small towers and the single large one and I anticipated a quick closure.

What I did not anticipate was the failure of my blade. While fighting my way through the second small tower the blade became detached from the hilt, making it utterly useless. Fortunately the Scamp I had been fighting broke my blade when I delivered the fatal blow, so I was able to sweep up the pieces and secure them in my satchel, hoping to have it repaired later. 

But this left me in a quandary, for now I had no weapon at all. I wound up nervously improvising with a mace I back-tracked to which had belonged to a Dremora I had slain. Fighting with a mace was not by choice, but it was still better than fighting with my bare claws.

It also almost led to my death. The Enemy has definitely been bolstering his Oblivion garrisons, for not only have I fought more Clannfear today, but I fought with and defeated what must be a higher ranking Dremora clad in armor I have never seen before.

Desperation lent me strength and I brutally bludgeoned the Dremora to death, taking several blows of my own in the process. If I had been unarmed I would not have survived and I claimed the Plane's stone in no condition to venture into another Gate so far armed. Naturally I rode past another Gate while riding to Bruma and noted this one down in my map as well for later attention.

The greenery of Cyrodiil gradually gave way to the grey of the mountains as I got closer to Bruma and I was relieved to arrive without finding any more Oblivion gates spewing evil into the land. Most of the day was already gone by then, but I had business in Bruma that could not wait, the first being my equipment. I stopped by the local blacksmith and negotiated the purchase of a well-made steel long blade and backup dagger in exchange for my broken short sword and two hundred Septims. The short blade was enchanted, but quite simply it was just too short for my comfort and I greatly appreciate the greater length of the blade I am wielding now after the desperate fighting with my mace.

As I left the shop a man came running up to me and announced himself as Tolgan, herald to Countess Narina of Bruma. He extravagantly exclaimed that the Countess had requested my presence at the earliest convenience. I had time, so I detoured to the castle to find out what she was going to request of me.

The Countess of Bruma is a collector of Akaviri relics and boasted one of the most complete collections in Cyrodiil, except for one artifact, the Draconian Madstone. I had never heard of such a thing before today and the Countess explained that it was a stone talisman that would protect the wearer from poisons when worn like an amulet. Through her sources, she learned that the Madstone was at some ruins beyond the trail leading north into the mountains that I am actually familiar with. Should I succeed in retrieving the Draconian Madstone I will receive an Akaviri relic of some use. It sounds like an interesting diversion and one I will be sure to take up soon.

I was stopped by Jauffre as soon as I ascended the steps towards the fortress. He immediately pointed out that I did not have the Amulet of Kings upon me, but I soothed his worry by presenting my stolen Mysterium Xarxes. It was not what he had been hoping for, but Jauffre recognized the evil book as a possible weapon against Mehrunes Dagon and hurried me on to Martin.

Martin was still busily studying his books when I walked into the Great Hall but jumped out of his chair when I proceeded to withdraw the Mysterium Xarxes from my bag. He exclaimed that just handling the book was dangerous and was relieved to see that I had not been so stupid as to try reading it, for I would have gone insane instantly, at least according to him.

Martin was confident that he would be able to safely read the book and hoped to find a way to use it to open a portal of his own to Camoran's hiding place and therefore the Amulet of Kings. While he settled back down to his studies he asked that I speak to Jauffre about two suspicious people that had been seen prowling about the road for the past several nights.

Jauffre suspected that the individuals were Mythic Dawn spies sent to probe the Cloud Ruler Temple for weaknesses. This was doubly alarming, for it meant that they obviously knew of the heir's existence and location and I was tasked with eliminating this potential leak of information. So I set a trap of my own: the two always stopped at a painted stone along the road and I decided to wait for them there. If they proved themselves to be agents of the cult, then I hoped my sudden assault would kill the both of them without much warning.

Springing my trap required that I remain near the stone motionless, in the cold, for several hours. It was a very boring thing, but it paid off. As dusk approached I heard the sound of at least two people walking up the path towards me and the Temple. A Dunmer and Redguard came into view, stopped at the Stone, and began talking about my raid on the Mythic Dawn cavern! Clearly these two were the spies I had been waiting for and I sprung from my hiding place in the bushes and charged at them, long sword at the ready. I caught them completely unawares.

On each body was a key with a tag labeled 'Basement'. Somewhere in Bruma there was a Mythic Dawn base and I guessed the Captain of the Guard would be the best person to approach regarding the matter.

The first thing he said to me proved a shock: Oblivion Gates had opened outside each city! I thought the one outside of Leyawiin to be a fluke, but apparently the other cities are now suffering the same proximity, necessitating perhaps a journey identical to the one I committed to while trying to gain access into the Arcane University.

The second thing said was relevant to my current issue. He identified one of the spies as a citizen named 'Jearl' and authorized me to search her home for further evidence of her involvement with the Mythic Dawn cult. Like all good villains the evidence was found in the basement.

On a desk was a scroll from someone in the Mythic Dawn congratulating Jearl on her success in opening a gate outside of Chorrol and instructing her to move to Bruma in order to spy on the Cloud Ruler Temple so that the Blades could be eliminated for good. The letter talked about something called a 'Great Gate' which was talked of at a higher priority than three of what I assume are "lesser" gates. My own suspicion was confirmed when I read that the smaller gates are easily opened and re-opened after their closing, making my quest to eliminate the gates just as important as it apparently is futile. Amusingly, the letter closed with a warning not to engage the agent responsible for Martin's escape from Kvatch, as this person is "...not to be trifled with." Indeed!

Jauffre was predictably pleased with their deaths and even more-so by the acquisition of the Enemy's plans, at least part of them. Martin had already made progress with the Mysterium Xarxes and had discovered that four elements are needed to open a portal to Oblivion, one of which he was able to identify as "blood of a Daedric lord". He interpreted this to mean that a Daedric artifact would be required for the ritual and asked that I simply go out and get him one.

These artifacts are not found easily, nor granted lightly. Only service to a Daedric Prince can result in these gifts and according to the histories the artifacts never seem to stay with one person for very long. Martin referred me to the "Modern Heretics" in the Temple's library to aid me in my acquisition of such a thing. But it was too late for reading and I visited the west wing of the Temple so that I might find some place to sleep instead.

Tomorrow I need to review my plans. Gates right outside each city is a drastic threat, but claiming a Daedric artifact may be the only way to really stop this invasion. I am torn between two priorities and I wish there were somehow two of me to attend to everything. Three or more would be better. I can only take things a day at a time the best I can and hope that everything I do aids, in some way, against the forces of Oblivion.

Morrowind Day 25 - Vampires

9 Hearthfire
~~~

The scuttling of a sleepless mudcrab woke me a few hours after I stopped to rest near the water. Judging by how long the sun took to come up, it was probably one or two in the morning, but that was just as well. Sleeping too long in the Ashlands doesn't strike me as an idea good for one's health.

The wind had died down, leaving the dust on the ground where it belonged and enabling me to see far better. Near to my campsite was an ancestral tomb guarded by a patrolling skeleton dutifully clutching a rotting, ancient spear in its hands. The weapon nearly broke when I blocked a thrust with my shield and I sent the skeleton off to a much deserved final rest.

I was hoping to the tomb was a small one that I could clear out and use as shelter, but as luck would have it, I had walked right into a den of Vampires. The tomb looked the same as any other one I have been in, but when I opened the door, prepared to fight off a Scamp or ancestral spirit, a shirtless Imperial attacked me. I thought him a bandit at first, but Imperials do not normally have fangs, nor do they spend more time trying to bite you than stab. This Vampire, whomever he used to be, was obviously young and his hunger was strong enough to make an afterthought of the dagger he was wielding. He kept trying to grapple and bite me, but I used the doorway to limit his movements and he soon expired, my spear having been run through his unadorned chest and into his heart.

The corpse started turning into dust almost immediately, another sign that he was recently turned, or so I've read. The dust is understandably very rare and magical, making Vampire hunting a profitable, but extremely dangerous, vocation.

Vampires were the responsibility of a special branch of the Imperial Legion in Cyrodiil and I assume also the responsibility of the Imperial Legion here in Morrowind. But the Imperial Legion's reach does not seem to extend far outside the Imperial settlements and I was quite some distance away from any settlement, let alone an Imperial outpost. Had there been any elder Vampire in the tomb, I'm quite certain I would not be writing this journal entry, but the truth was far sadder.

The initial Vampire had been guarding a small chamber lined with pedestals and urns, with only one other door leading on, nothing unusual for a Dunmer tomb. Aware of what to expect, I activated the Armor of God belt and used up a Shield scroll before opening the door. A Vampire who was once a Dunmer male attacked me, also with a dagger and fell quickly, just as undressed and undisciplined as his companion.

Sadly, the third Vampire was a former Khajiit and a slave at that, the manacle still attached to her wrist. I killed her swiftly, but can't help hoping that she had escaped her slavery and enjoyed some freedom before she was turned. Slavery is a vile, antiquated practice, but what can one Khajiit do against the culture of an entire people? At least she was fully clothed.

There was only one other Vampire in the tomb, a former Redguard whom was walking around aimlessly in the last room, a large ceremonial chamber, and she was just as undressed as her two male companions. Very odd and just as dead as the rest of them. The tomb itself has nothing of value, but the dust from the four corpses more than made up for it. I'd normally be encouraged by such a rewarding skirmish, but even after I buried the Khajiit's final remains by the water, I can't help but feel sorrow over the direction her life had taken her.

With a heavy heart I resumed my trek across Mount Kand in search of the staff. Luck is a fickle thing and a dust storm reduced my visibility to barely in front of my face as I was trudging up a hill. I managed to find the entrance to the Atronach cave again and was about to enter to wait out the storm, but I was feeling a bit paranoid and climbed on to the ridge above the cave to ensure I was not being stalked by something, where much to my surprise the dust-blasted skeleton of Linus Iulus was, half-sunken into the ground through years of dust storms. The object of my quest was near the corpse, the staff covered by a thick layer of loose dust accumulated over the years. A belt and amulet, both obviously enchanted, were also on the corpse, and I took both items as well. How and why he fell will, like so many other things, remain forever a mystery and I left his remains where I found them, another unfortunate soul claimed by Morrowind.

I used a scroll of Almsivi Intervention to send myself back to Molag Mar, where the storm was still raging and decided to walk along the coast back to Ebonheart. After all, what kind of Scout could I call myself if I kept sailing everywhere?

I came across another Dunmer fortress between Molag Mar and Suran, but stopped only long enough to confirm that this one also had a magical chamber. What the connection is between these fortresses is something I need to discover, if only for my own curiosity.

A man in Suran approached me by the gate as I entered the town, ranting about Lord Dagoth's return and how he will wake from the Red Mountain and reclaim Morrowind as his own. Same spiel I got from the madman in Pelagiad. I pushed past him with no trouble.

While we bartered on the price for arrows, a merchant named Ralds mentioned that he had seen his neighbor outside past midnight, ranting and raving about nonsense, but when the morning comes, the neighbor has no recollection of doing any such thing. It sounds very similar to the madmen I've encountered and I wonder if maybe what they're saying is at least partially correct. I will have to keep it in mind.

I wound up bartering away the rest of my Imperial chain armor for one hundred steel arrows. After the combat the armor has seen and the somewhat inept repairs I've made, it was on its way to becoming useless soon. The lack of weight is also nice.

After that I cheated on my goal to walk from Molag Mar to Ebonheart. I had been planning on staying overnight at Suran, only to find that there were no available rooms to rent for the night. The prospect of spending another night in the wilderness made the decision to take the silt strider to Vivec an easy one.

Tomorrow I'll report back to Kaye. No doubt he'll have some other task to assign to me.