Rashelle And The Mad God, Tribunal fanfic Options

[blockhead]

This contains spoilers for the Tribunal expansion. I imagine this is no longer a concern since the expansion has been out for so long but I thought it would be prudent to mention it here anyway.

Unlike "Rashelle At Lokken", this one is an in-progress work, actually being written now. As a consequence the updates won't be nearly so often.

This story occurs before the events in "Rashelle At Lokken".

--
Rashelle And The Mad God
by blockhead aka pcc

Chapter 1. Dark Brotherhood


I knew it was not going to be a good day. Firstly, it was that time of the month for me and that is never a good time. Secondly, I was rudely awakened by someone who was trying to murder me in my bed.

His glass dagger had just rebounded off of my ebony cuirass. People think I'm nuts when I tell them I sleep in my armor. Situations like this are why I do.

An elbow in his face backed him off a foot or so and gave me time to give him a stiff kick in the usual place. It sent him flying away from the bed but apparently that strange black armor that he wore protected him there because he came right back at me.

I ran him through with Chrysamere. People think I'm nuts because I sleep with a naked claymore. Situations like this are why I do.

I got out of bed and searched the body. No keys. Some gold. No letters or other information. I examined the strange black armor. It was rather nice. I had never seen its like before, very light and flexible, yet tough. The deep blackness of it would certainly help any night-time stealthy activities. It was probably expensive as well.

If it were not for the fact that I don't like my sleep to be interrupted, I would welcome more attacks just for more of this armor.

I removed my boots and I tried the greaves on. They were especially nice. They went well with my Ebony cuirass yet were not hot like most armor is. Of late I had not been wearing any armor save for a cuirass and boots: Vvardenfell was just too hot to wear full armor. I was never cold; only warm or hot. I'm a Breton but there must have been Nord in my ancestry somehow.

I left the greaves on. I put my ebony boots back on. I went to the trap door and poked my head out. It was still dark out but I was too keyed up to go back to sleep.

I closed trap door and got myself ready to go.

Taking the helm and the body, I left my house.

A Hlallu guard approached me immediately. After playing 20 questions he eventually realized that I had been attacked, had lawfully defended myself and was only trying to dispose of the body.

"Couldn't you have waited until you left town before stripping it?"

"It's not every day I get attacked in my own bed. I was not aware there was a protocol involved."

Showing him the helm, I said; "By the way, you wouldn't happen to know who wears armor like this and likes to murder Bretons in their bed, would you?"

He informed me that the helm was that of the Dark Brotherhood. They were assassins. Apparently someone had put a contract out on me. Unlike the Morag Tong, the dark brotherhood would take any contract. They will kill anyone if the drakes were good: legality was not a concern.

He told me that Apelles Matius over in Ebonheart might know more about them. I thanked him and he retreated at speed: as if the dark brotherhood would slay him just for talking to me.

Not a great start to my day. I dumped the body just south of town and then went to the Mages Guild.

"Greetings, Rashelle, what brings you here at this odd hour?", said the Sharn Gra-Muzgob, who was manning the entrance as Greeter this shift.

"Hey Sharn. Nothing much: just a Dark Brotherhood assassin trying to murder me in my sleep."

"That's terrible - you killed him I trust?"

"Yes indeed."

"I trust you disposed of the body?"

"Yes; just now I dragged it south of town."

"Just now you did?"

"Yep."

She turned from me and summoned Galbedir, asking her to cover for her for "a few minutes". Then she scurried outside as fast she could.

Galbedir and I laughed: we both knew she was a necromancer.

I went downstairs and had them teleport me to Vivec. Once there, a cast of Divine intervention teleported me to the Imperial Cult chapel in Ebonheart. From there, it was a short walk to find Apelles Matius.

He initially seemed to doubt me but I showed him the helm and then he remembered that I was the Nerevarine and had some skill in matters pertaining to combat.

He revealed two interesting bits if information. First; the Dark Brotherhood headquarters was somewhere on the mainland, in the city of Mournhold. Secondly, despite the quarantine still in place around Vvardenfell from the Blight, a recently arrived Imperial Mage named Asciene Rane could teleport me there.

He led me to her and, after introductions, explained the situation to her. I thanked him and he left. She then teleported me to Mournhold.

I appeared in a blue room. There were flowers in the room; how did they grow indoors without sunlight? I turned and found myself face to face with an Argonian in expensive robes.

He sniffed and said "fresh game."

he continued. "Greetings, I am Effe Tei. I can teleport you to Ebonheart. You are in the Palace now, in the reception area."

"Thank you, I am Rashelle."

Effe Tei briefly explained the layout of Mournhold. The city was a circle, with the Palace in the center. The remainder of the circle was divided into four sections. The temple was to the south, the plaza Brindisi Dorom to the north. West and East were the Great Bazaar and the Godsreach areas.

Effe informed me that the city was actually built on top of the ruins of the the older city, some of which were accessible underground.

The goddess Amalexia resided in this city, as did the dunmer King Helseth.

In an alarmed tone he asked me; "Are you wearing greaves of the Dark Brotherhood?"

Perhaps wearing the armor of the Dark Brotherhood had been a bad idea.

"These? Oh no; don't be silly! These are padded Capri pants. They are all the rage over on Tel Aruhn. When I wear boots they are more comfortable. When I don't wear boots they let a lot of calf show."

I chatted briefly with a royal guard. His closed helm and closed mannerisms made conversation difficult and brief.

I decided to wander around the castle before going outside. I took the open doorway out of the room and soon found myself with a choice, stairs down or up. Thinking of dungeons, my natural instinct was to choose the down stairwell.

This resulted in my arrival at the Royal Palace basement.

Oddly enough, there were no guards here. I poked through some of the crates and other containers. I was tempted to pinch some salt rice but I refrained.

I found a trap door in the floor. Effe had said something about the Dark Brotherhood in the sewers below the Great Bazaar, not the palace, but I opened the door anyway.

I started to descend the cold slimy rungs of a ladder. I was in a large high hall. Along the center of the hall ran a channel with water in it. The air was moist and the scent wafting along it let me know that these were the sewers.

I paused, gripping the ladder, while my eyes adjusted to the darkness. There were torches here and there and some sort of undefined dim illumination. This area was as large as the Vivec canton sewers but, like everything else in Mournhold, was more ornate than its Vvardenfell counterpart.

A skeleton was running towards the ladder. With one hand I cast a fireball. Most undead are susceptible to fire so that was enough to take care of it.

I descended the rest of the way and stepped away from the latter.

To my right was a dead end. I turned left. The floor was tiled with maroon tiles that formed pretty patterns. Why waste time decorating a sewer?

A rat attacked me. I believe he hurt his teeth on my ebony boots. I simply stared down at him as if to say "who are you kidding?". He sheepishly squeaked and ran away.

Then I saw a skeleton in a hooded robe. That was new. It cast a lightning spell. My birth sign didn't handle it this time. It hurt but I was not in immediate danger so I waited. I wanted to assess the capabilities of this new creature.

The robed skeleton cast another one. And another. How much magicka did this thing have?

I was hurting now. Enough is enough. I quaffed a potion and cast a fireball. The robed skeleton hit me with a health damage spell but this time my birth sign diffused the spell and absorbed the magicka. I promptly used this to cast a larger fireball.

Robes burning, the skeleton collapsed to the ground. Pieces of bone fell into the water.

A memory from my magical studies came to me: I had just fought a lich.

I walked over and examined the lich. It was simply an animated skeleton with a robe, an iron longsword, and an iron shield. The most formidable thing about it had been the large reservoir of magicka.

I resumed walking. The sewer corridor turned to the left and entered a very large room. It was easily larger than a plaza in a Vivec canton, larger than a small village. In the center was a circle of pillars that reached all the way to the ceiling. Inside this was a deeper pool of water. Perhaps this drained into a lower level of sewers.

A goblin ran towards me. I had never encountered a goblin before but I had seen pictures of them in books.

He was a tough critter and he wielded a club that was sturdier than it looked.

As I was finishing him, a durzog attacked me. Again, I had not seen a durzog in Vvardenfell but I knew of them. Goblins often used durzogs as mounts and war beasts. Wherever you encountered one, you tended to also run into the other.

Getting tired of the water, I took an upward ramp out of that large room. This soon led me to a door labeled "Bazaar sewers". How convenient: this is where Effe said the Dark Brotherhood were located.

So I was now in the Bazaar Sewers of Old Mournhold. Ahead of me, the wide and tall passage continued and then curved left. From this came a bonewalker, already hurling Grave Curse spells at me. Another fireball finished him.

To my right was a second passage. I went right.

This passage turned left and down. At the turning was a Khajiit woman. An attempt at conversation yielded only "Ahnia does not know you, so Ahnia has nothing to say to you."

Perhaps the sewers were filled with madmen? I continued on down the passage. The ramp took me back down to the water level. Have I mentioned yet how much I hate water?

There was a ladder going up but I passed it for now. The next section of the passage was smaller and hewn from rock: no pretty tiles here.

I swam, following the passage as it turned left and down. I dove because I thought I saw something there on the bottom. I did: a skeleton who had apparently been slain by an arrow. There was a water breathing potion by the skeleton. The passage was a dead end so, swimming as rapidly as I could as I was running out of breath, I retraced my route.

I returned to the ladder, this time I ascended it.

I found myself on the surface, outdoors, somewhere in Mournhold. The morning sunlight shown on a rich array of blue architecture. Another reminder that I wasn't in Vvardenfell anymore.

While I had urgent business to attend to, regarding the Black brotherhood's misguided attempts to adjust my lifespan, I just could not resist the temptation to wander around here for a bit before returning to the depths.

Vvardenfell is a frontier. This was a city, a major center of government and commerce, and it showed. Everything had a polished and expensive look to it.

I walked around, chatting with people, even the ordinators. Ordinators are never chatty but I try to talk to them anyway. These Ordinators wore a different style of armor from the ones back in Vivec. The helm was the same but not yellow. The color was pastel violet instead. As with everything else in Mournhold, their armor was classier and snazzier than the Vvardenfell version. I was informed that I was in the Great Bazaar.

At some point I found a book store. It was with difficultly that I pulled myself out of there, a few hundred gold poorer.

I heard what sounded like a summoning spell. When one summons an atronach or other daedra, there is a certain characteristic sound. I turned towards the sound and saw two bursts of fog or smoke. The smoke fade away to be replaced by a Dunmer in a robe.

"Greetings, fair citizens of Mournhold. I am the great, renowned, respected, and feared wizard, Ovis Velas! In the coming weeks you shall see more and more of me, as I bring this city to its knees."

This didn't sound very promising. He had the attention of the people around me. I hoped this was some sort of advertisement for a sporting event but I didn't think so. I had a fireball ready and I placed a hand on my head, casually, as if patting my hair into place ... near the hilt of the sheathed sword at my back.

"But for the moment, " he continued, "allow me to demonstrate my power on one of your hapless countrymen."

He looked right at me. Figures. Always pick on the Breton with the black hair and the armor.

"You there! Yes, you, you ugly Breton, Prepare yourself to feel my wrath!"

He hit me with a fireball. I could have dodged it but I didn't want it to hurt anyone in the crowd so I just took it. My birth-sign didn't absorb the spell this time.

Already running towards him, I let fly my own fireball and drew my sword.

He hit me with a cold spell: standard technique: fatigue the target by alternating fire and frost. My birth-sign didn't absorb this spell either but I have always had this unusual Nord-like affinity to cold: the spell was a refreshing cool breeze.

I reached him and swung. He moved partially out of the way but he was not moving very fast so Chrysamere still bit.

He stumbled but still hit me with a nasty shock-bolt. This time my birth-sign absorbed and diffused the spell.

Enough: I stabbed him right through the heart. He had no armor under the robe.

As I kicked the corpse from my sword I mused that any chance of the Dark Brotherhood not being aware of me here on their home turf had just gone to zero.

I cast a healing spell on myself.

The hubbub of the crowd that had formed was cut through by an Ordinator rasping, "Nothing to see here, move along."

I walked away. I had lawfully defended myself so the Ordinators gave me no trouble.

A dunmer who introduced himself as Drathhas Reyes said to me "For all of his talk, you didn't seem to have much trouble dealing with him. Seems strange he was so weak."

He had a point there.

"You know, there is a Velas manor in Godsreach. Perhaps checking it out would shed some needed light on this mystery."

Yeah whatever, but I didn't say that. I nodded and walked on.

Back to the sewers: I now had to find the Dark Brotherhood before they found me. I descended, stepped off the ladder. I killed a rat and passed by the unfriendly Khajiit woman again.




EDIT: went a little too Conan (and not even good original Howard Conan, but Marvel-style Conan) for the next bit so I've taken it out for more editing. Also minor word usage & "flow" edits


This post has been edited by blockhead: Apr 11 2007, 02:17 AM

[blockhead]

Chapter 7. Ashes



I returned to the Plaza. Things seemed to have settled down to some new state of normalcy. Ordinators and Royal Guards warily avoided each other as they patrolled. People had returned to the plaza, probably out of curiosity.

An ordinator informed me that no one had gone down the hole even though someone had produced a ladder.

I ascended the base of the statue and looked down. The hole appeared entirely black in contrast to the sunlight.

I cast Night Eye and then put a foot on the ladder. I then descended.

The ladder terminated in a sort of rock bridge in a small cave. The floor of the cave was still deeper and was obscured by running water. Presumably the water supply for the fountain in the Plaza was now leaking down, possibly forming a new underground river. Faint lighting was provided by some luminous mushrooms.

The rock bridge that I was standing on led to a passage in the north wall. I put on my chameleon ring and carefully followed the passage.

It turned to the right and downwards.

After a time it opened up into emptiness.

Actually it was a rather large room but my first impression was that of infinity. The actual floor of the room was a long way down: I was standing in a hole in the wall that must have been excavated by the creatures.

Large pillars supported the ceiling and one or two of them had collapsed in such as way as to provide a means of ascent from the floor to the passage.

Speaking of creatures, I saw some down below. They were fighting with ... "regular" Dwemer constructs, the type 1 and type 2 animalcules as well as the bipedal steam centurions.

Some of these centurions were larger than the others ... perhaps they were some advanced type not found in the Dwemer ruins up in Vvardenfell?

The fact that the Dwemer robots were fighting the creatures suggested to me that they were not of Dwemer origin. Also, as Fedris had said, the Dwemer ruins had been here for centuries and no Dwemer machinery had ever come up before.

So if these were not Dwemer creatures, whose were they?

It looked like the Dwemer robots were winning: yay for the Dwemer. Of course, I was also viewed as an intruder. This fact was brought home to me as a projectile whizzed by my ear.

I ducked back into the passage for a moment. I then slowly crawled back. I edged my head carefully past the hole and saw what I had not noticed before: some of what I thought were regular "type 2" sphere centurions were actually of a new type that I had not seen before: their spheres opened up in a different way and, more importantly, they were capable of shooting some sort of Dwemer darts. I dubbed this new type the "centurion archer".

I sneaked back a few feet and found a dart. This was the one that had missed me just before. I picked it up and examined it. It was actually a bit large to be thought of as a dart: it was more a throwing dagger. There were no enchantments nor poison on it. It had that characteristic golden metal look of all Dwemer manufacture.

I touched the edge lightly and immediately blood emerged from my finger: the dart was wickedly sharp. I could see that hits from just a few of these would easily cut someone apart.

I had ascertained that the creatures that had attacked the Plaza were not of the Dwemer.

I retraced my route to the cave with the ladder and then ascended to the Plaza. The ordinators and royal guards cheered as I emerged. This last almost made me want to dart back into the hole: it was most unexpected.

"It's a Dwemer ruin," I said. "There were some more of these ... things ..."

I pointed to one of the corpses that still littered the Plaza before continuing, "... down there but they have been cut down by the various centurions. Apparently they are not Dwemer."

I returned to the temple and presented Fedris with this news.

"Most interesting. Unless they attack again I guess we will never know what it was all about."

I nodded.

"In the mean time, the Lady wishes to speak to you."

I nodded and headed for Almalexia's chamber.

She was as she had been before. Maybe these former gods/goddesses were able to live without sleep?

"Rashelle, I am concerned about the End Of Times cult."

"Pardon?"

"They are a cult who are at odds with the temple."

Like the Dissident Priests had been? This time I had the sense to remain silent.

"There have been several suicides around Mournhold. My agents indicate that they may have been members of this new cult. They apparently recruit people and then somehow convince them to kill themselves. I must protect my people, Rashelle. This danger must be stopped."

I nodded.

"Rashelle: find Eno Romari and stop him. Do not kill him. If you kill him, he will be seen as a martyr and his cult will grow. I do not want that."

I nodded and went on my way.

I did not think that there was a great urgency to this mission so I returned to my room at the Winged Gaur to catch up on some needed sleep.

When I awoke I realized that recent events had drained my stock of Restore Health potions: it was time to make more. As I had not yet found a vender in Mournhold who carried the necessary ingredients in bulk, I returned to Vvardenfell.

Only when I had made several batches and stowed them in my pack did I return to Mournhold.

I returned to Mournhold and began my investigation into the matter of the End Of Times cult. I spoke with several people and eventually the picture began to emerge. The suicides were part of a new death cult, as Almalexia had said. The leader (and only surviving member?) of this cult was indeed Eno Romari. He was a Dunmer and was often found in the Godsreach area, preaching to the gullible.

There are always the gullible. A madman is nothing without fools to follow him.

Salas had heard of Eno.

"Yeah, I've seen him here in Godsreach. He's a tall Dunmer in a white robe that could use a cleaning. I don't want to get involved in that, Rashelle: he could be right for all we know. He's not breaking the law so do not pester me about this again!"

I frowned.

"I'm sorry Rashelle, it's just ... argh, no ... I cannot speak of that."

I wished I could help. Something was bothering him and had been for some time. If he didn't find a way to deal with it soon, he'd go nuts.

I bid him good day and continued my search.

Ironically enough, Eno was standing just outside of the Winged Gaur. His robe indeed could use a cleaning. He was preaching to a Bosmer and a Dunmer woman. I strode toward them.

The Bosmer said "Guar patties" and turned away.

The Dunmer woman also turned away, rolling her eyes. I could not help but grin.

"Are you Eno Romari?" I said.

"Yes, my child, have you come to hear the truth."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Nerevarine, certainly someone such as yourself who has experienced the practical side of religion would be more open minded."

I nodded.

"The daedra are not our ancestors. They do not seek to protect us. Man and Mer are their playthings. The Tribunal are weakening and can no longer protect us. Sotha Sil had made no public appearance in centuries. Almalexia and Vivec also have become more reclusive. Their powers have faded."

I had to concede that Eno had things spot-on so far. With the Heart gone, the Tribunal were mortal. I had never trusted the daedra, save for Azura. They were strange creatures, different from mortals in motivation and thought.

"The time is coming soon when the daedra will break through the barrier and descend into Nirn to ravage the land."

I recalled reading of a pact between Sotha Sil and the Daedra Princes ... but that had been a long time ago. Perhaps with the loss of the Heart's power, that pact was no longer binding .

"Members participate in the The Cleansing. They go ahead to join our ancestors. They will serve to protect us in the coming battle with the daedra."

I began to realize what he meant. The Dunmer had always practiced ancestor worship. They believed that the spirits of departed family members still watched over them. Having raided many a tomb I had encountered enough of them to believe this.

What Eno was advocating was that they bring on more ancestor spirits before the daedra made their move. It had a certain logic to it, but it involved suicide and it would not work.

"You are telling people to kill themselves to fight the daedra."

He looked away.

"You have no way of knowing if that will work. You Dunmer have centuries of ancestors lurking about. They don't have much power compared to daedra, Eno: I've fought enough of them to know this. Your idea will not work!"

"You do not know what you are talking about." he retorted.

"Eno, look at me. You know who I am. You know of some of the things I have experienced. I have spoken with the dead. I have fought daedra. Have you?"

"Well ... "

"Let me ask you this: have you been contacted by anyone who has gone through this Cleansing of yours."

"Well, I uh ..."

He stopped. I waited. Eventually I realized he was not going to say anything.

"Eno. The answer to that question is 'yes' or 'no'. Have any of the people you sent to die come back and talked to you?"

He was silent. He would not answer me.

"The answer is 'no', isn't it? You talked those people into killing themselves for no reason, didn't you?"

He nodded, then looked down at the ground.

"Eno you must stop preaching of the end of times."

"I will."

Something in the tone of his voice gave me a suspicion that he was planning to do something very stupid.

"Eno?"

"Yes?"

"Do not kill yourself."

"I must atone."

Yes, I had guessed correctly.

"If you do that, you will become a martyr. More will kill themselves in your name. It could go on for years. How many more will die? You cannot take back the deaths you have caused but you can prevent further deaths, and to do this you must remain alive."

Sadly, he nodded.

Good.

I returned to Almalexia.

"I have spoken to Eno Romari. He now knows the error of his ways and has stopped preaching. And, Almalexia; he sincerely regrets the deaths. He really will not be a problem again."

"This is very good news. You have handled the matter discretely and with mercy."

I beamed.

"Rashelle, tell me more though of his false beliefs."

"His former beliefs were that the daedra were going to enter Nirn and wreak destruction. He was concerned that the Tribunal were weakening. He wrongly thought that ... "

"ENOUGH!"

Her anger was terrible to witness. Her eyes glowed. You would never know from merely looking at her that she was no longer a goddess.

"They would dare...? So, the Tribunal has lost its power, has it? These fools would dare question Almalexia's power, here in her city! I will give them a lesson in power, Rashelle, and you will be my agent."

In her hand materialized a Dwemer coherer. It looked unlike others I had seen in that it had a glow deep in its center. I had heard from some savants the theory that coherors were some sort of power source for ancient Dwemer machinery, a source in addition to the steam power that most "surviving" Dwemer devices used.

Where had she obtained a "charged" Dwemer coherer?

"Recently discovered records indicate that there is a weather machine in Bamz-Amschend, the Dwemer city beneath the Plaza. You will take this coherer and use it to activate the machine. You will then call ash storms down on Mournhold. I do not know how to do this so you will gave to figure it out. The people will then know that I have commanded the ash storms and will realize the full strength of my power."

I hesitated.

"Take the coherer. In these troubled times, faith is all that sustains the people. They must not doubt the Tribunal now. All that we have built up over the last thousand years will be for nothing. This show of power is necessary. It must be done."

I took the coherer.

"Thank you Rashelle. Return to me when Mournhold has ash storms."

I nodded and departed.

I descended once again into the ruins below the Plaza, which I now knew was named "Bamz-Amschend."

This time I dispatched the centurion archers with some of the darts I had obtained from the Black Dart gang. I then levitated down and fought the remaining robots with my usual methods.

I discovered that the larger, more advanced, steam centurions were somehow enchanted with the Reflect spell. I learned rapidly not to cast spells at them. I decided to call them "advanced centurions".

From the centurion archers I extracted a nice collection of those dagger-like Dwemer darts. My skill with bows is absolutely horrid but whatever I throw goes where I intend it to. I was sure they would prove useful in the future.

I walked through a long series of twisty areas. The architecture here was so different from the other ruins I was used to, back in Vvardenfell. This seemed strange to me. After a time I thought about how different the architecture was in the various places back home: compare Redoran to Telvanni and one will find nothing in common. The Dwemer must have had different regional architectural styles, just as we do today.

I saw small piles of ash here and there. Often they were accompanied by weapons or pieces of armor. Some of them were on benches ... where people would normally sit. Had there been an epidemic of spontaneous combustion at this facility?

I found myself walking in an area where the corridor sort of swelled up to a larger size. There were large things in the ceiling, each comprised of four outstretched fins or wings. These things were spinning.

I saw some tables: they had the usual miscellaneous Dwemer bric-a-brac on them. On the benches were more ash piles. I dispatched the centurion sphere here and moved on.

The corridor returned to normal size and continued to wind its way along. At one point it ramped down into a section with ankle-high water. I surprised a centurion archer here and killed it quickly.

This entered into another wide section of corridor. There was a waterfall running down one of the walls. It issued from a break near the ceiling. I wonder where this water was coming from; a leak the fountain in the Plaza or from some other source?

There were more of the 4-bladed rotating things in the ceiling and there was also a steam centurion. I smashed the centurion and continued.

At the end of the corridor was a door. I opened it and waded through.

I was in an absolutely huge dome. The dome had no proper floor save for a platform that ran around its entire perimeter. This is what I was standing on. Looking down and past the perimeter I could see water. It was too dark to see in the water but perhaps the room was actually a sphere.

In the center was a platform and on it was either a building or some kind of machinery. From the platform radiated pipes or beams that connected it to the perimeter. From above, it would look like a gargantuan wagon wheel.

The water flowing past at my feet made it difficult for me to close the door behind me: I was fighting the current.

The tinkling of a Dwemer dart striking the wall not far from me brought my attention to more immediate matters. I threw some darts from my collection and I saw the centurion archer fall from the beam into the water.

I heard the metallic stomping sound of an advanced steam centurion; a few darts and he was stilled.

I looked up and saw that there were actually stalactites hanging from the ceiling.

I carefully walked along one of the beams to the center platform. The building or machine centered on this platform was surrounded by four large upright spikes or towers. Somehow the area was lit by a directionless yellow glow.

I walked around the center machine and saw a break in the pattern: there was not a beam connected to that side of the platform. In its place jutted a short square platform on which were three levers and another small ash pile.

Somehow I knew this was the weather machine.

I pulled on one of the levers and nothing happened.

There was a coherer partially stuck into the side of the center "building". It seemed obvious what I had to do now: I removed it and in its place put the charged coherer.

I heard a faint whining sound and my feet felt a vibration in the metal floor as machinery that had lain dormant for a thousand years became active.

People nowadays have nothing good to say about the Dwemer, but I wonder what they had really been like. I would have liked to have seen them as they were in their heyday, with the strange machinery, their "airships", "walkers" and whatever other miracles they had that are now lost to time.

I tugged one of the levers.

There was a deep creaking sound and a section of the dome wall that my platform faced began to change. It had had a picture of some sort but I had not paid attention to it. Now that picture slid to the side and disappeared, to be replaced by a series of pictures. Eventually it stopped at another picture.

How odd. I tugged another lever, the pictures moved sideways the other way. the movement stopped and a third picture was there.

With the distance of the wall and the darkness of the room I could not make out what it was supposed to depict.

I cast a Light spell and this allowed me to see that it was a depiction of ... rain.

It was becoming clearer to me now: the combination of the three levers selected the weather type and the huge wall-picture indicated what weather had been chosen.

I pulled and pushed the levers in random combinations. I tried to imagine what it would be like on the surface, with weather changing rapidly between wild extremes.

In a short time I stumbled into the combination for ash storms.

I cast Almsivi Intervention and was teleported to the surface, near the entrance to the Temple.

The wind howled and the air was thick with ashes.

This post has been edited by blockhead: May 5 2007, 03:55 AM