Chapter Seventy Five

The entrance to the city’s main tower was a vast empty room. The stone and copper pipes rose to a vaulted ceiling. The floor was mostly dedicated to a large glass mechanism. Beneath the etched metals and clear material could be seen a dias, upon which sat the object of their search.

“Tantalizingly close, isn’t it?” Neloth stared at the book through the floor. He held up his hand as Auroth readied a spell. “Trust me, no magic will open this. I would have the book already if it could!”

“So what do you suggest?”

If we can restore the steam to this room, I’m sure I can open  it. As you will see, that’s easier said than done. This way to the  boilers. Follow me!”

Not for the first time, Auroth had to stifle the urge to complain about being treated like an apprentice. With a grimace, he put his feelings aside to follow the Dunmer deeper into the city. The sound of hissing steam filled the quiet as the great metal doors slid open. The next room was filled with towering stone columns, large constructs were placed at regular intervals, their surfaces crowded with all manner of knobs, dials, and levers. Beyond this area was a vast area

of water. How and where the flooding had started was likely a mystery lost to time. “I have my doubts that we’re going to have much success with this.”

“Nonsense. The dwemer built their cities to last. We will be safe. I only explored a small portion of the ruins the last time I came here. I find an assistant is absolutely essential for this sort of work.”  He looked around, admiring the architecture. “Nchardak. The ‘City of a Hundred Towers’. In its day, it was the largest of the great Dwemer archives. In the old stories, when the nords came to conquer it, it is said that the dwarves submerged the whole city into the sea. They held out the siege until the invaders gave up. I have my doubts.”

“And now there’s not anyone around to keep the water out. I should  tell you, I’m not very thrilled at the idea of swimming around in all this.”

“There’s little need for concern. Any of the oils and solvents mixed into  the water will be quite diluted. I also doubt the boilers will heat it to the  point of harming us.”

The altmer just stared. “Thank you… I feel better already.”

“As you can see, most of the lower levels are flooded. But it isn’t hopeless. The old dwemer pumps still seem to work. Watch.” Neloth  placed a cube into a stand nearby. Its surface lit with a strange blue light as the clamps engaged to its sides. The sound of the pumps rattled from deep in the ruins. The water began to drain, revealing ramps that ran down to the lower levels. “But the pumps only work when there is a cube in place, and I only have one cube. If we can find more cubes, we can turn these boilers back on and restore steam to the room upstairs. Bring this cube, we’ll need it.” Without so much as a glance, the Telvanni  master made his way toward a door on the left of the room. Auroth gathered the cube, giving a grunt of annoyance as the water began to rise to its former level of occupancy. He made to follow, only to collide with the wizard. “Be careful! Really, I don’t see how you high elves think you can get by with being so rude.” He wandered over to a control Panel. He studied the read out, tapping a few places as he thought. “Three of the cubes are through here. This seems as if they were moved to the lower levels to help control the flooding. Interesting.”

Auroth stopped trying to listen to the man. As fascinating as the history  of this place was, he was far more concerned with doing what they came to do. Miraak was causing strife all over the island, and here they were discussing the decline of the dwemer. Fortunately, the lecture ended after only another moment.

“Or maybe the Dwemer’s servitors tried to preserve the city, even after their creators’ disappearance. Anyway, this says that there are three cubes through this door.” He once again made for the door  on the left. Auroth waited to be sure of their course before moving.

‘Be damned if I’ll let him scold me again…’

The workshops were even darker than the previous rooms. Steam leaked from the pipes, making the air humid and uncomfortable. Neloth cast a light into the hall before them, showing the first cube only a few feet away. Neloth looked from Auroth to the cube, then back. His eyebrow  crept higher, the wrinkled skin on his forehead looking ever more craggy and aged. “Well? Am I going to have to do this myself?”

Auroth grumbled just loud enough to be heard, stuffing the device into his bag. “Let’s hope the rest of the cubes are this easy to find. Though knowing the Dwemer, I rather doubt it.”

They rounded two more corners, coming to a large hall, half filled with water. The orb of light bobbed ahead of them, the light reflecting back to shine toward the ceiling. There were centurions in various stages of construction on the submerged tables. Auroth eyed each construct with caution. His past experience with these creatures was not making him feel at ease.

“These must be the great workshops of Nchardak. Impressive, even in ruins. In the city’s days of glory, it was reported to have been capable of assembling a complete automaton in a single day. Much of the Dwemer army at the Battle of Red Mountain must have come from here. It looks like we’ll need to lower the water level to make any more progress.”  Auroth made his way to the interface stand, drawing one of the cubes from his pack. The sides had very specific gearing cut into them, able to mesh with the receptacle only one way. To the Altmer’s irritation, the metals were tarnished, patina build up preventing a good mesh. He looked around the workshop, pointing to a shelf nearby. “Could you see if there is a bottle of oil in there?” Neloth looked disgusted.

“Do I look like a servant, boy?”

“No,” he scowled, “you look like an ass. Get me the oil, or we can’t get this to work.” They glared at each other in silence.

Neloth smirked. “You have no idea how long it’s been since someone has been so terse with me. It’s very refreshing.” He grabbed an oil can and brought it to him. “But, don’t think I’ll tolerate too much of it.”

The pair set to work cleaning the cube and stand. Auroth watched Neloth closely, noting how much care he took with the pieces he worked on. Despite his attitude, the Drow was not quite as harsh as he let on. Maybe it was just a lack of patience with others, or the fact that few ever managed to secure the trust of his house. It would have been hard to survive all of the events the man had seen. “May I ask you something?”

“You would be a poor student if you did not.”

“You have lived through so much. The coming of the Nerevarine, the Oblivion Crisis, the Great War… As far as I have seen, you never got involved directly with any of them.”

“And you would like to know why?” He never looked away from his work. “The events of the world are not my concern. When you live as long as I, there is little consequence in the fall of an empire, or the changing of leadership. The world goes on, no matter how differently. Rather than

worry over such trivial things, I aim to understand the manner in which they change.

“So you think my friends and I are fools for trying to change fate?”

Neloth shook his head. “Fools? No, I shouldn’t think so. The future is not an impossible thing to shape. But to change it takes a conviction that I do not possess.” He turned. “Your friend Gaeolin on the other hand does not seem so restrained. The question to ask yourself is not if the change can be made, but will the change this man will affect be for the greater benefit, or a personal end?” The master grinned. “Even those with good intent can end up destroying everything if they lose their perspective.”

“He is a good man. I trust him.”

“Even great men can succumb to evil. If he is willing to bargain with Mora  to find a means to his end, how can you be so sure the corruption hasn’t already begun?”

“Evil is relative.”

“And so is suffering, I suppose, if one is willing to apply cold logic to everything. Though I will admit that you are fortunate to have never been forced to doubt his quality.” Auroth wished he could say that was true. But he couldn’t help but remember when his friend had fallen into the grip of madness. Had Gaeolin not nearly killed the wizard in Morthal when his cure had not worked? And what of the moment at Lakeview, when he had forced him to use Necromancy? Was it simply desperation, or a hidden desire and ambition that surpassed morality? He shook off the thoughts for now, placing the now cleaned cube into the stand.

The familiar sound of the pumps rumbled from the floor. The foamy mire drained slowly, revealing a clearer vision of the tools and materials left behind by the dwarves. Neloth led the way down a set of steps, keeping just above the water level. “There seems to be so many contraptions that were never completed. I wonder what the Dwemer would have accomplished

if they had survived up until now.”

The question was forced out of their minds by a sudden hissing noise. The air filled with the whirring of gears and the clang of metal locks releasing. Auroth turned to the source, his axe coming to his hands. A centurion stepped free from it’s alcove with a step that shook the  workshop. The lifeless face hummed as it searched the room. The machine locked onto the pair, letting out a screech. Neloth raised his hands, looking like he had never been more inconvenienced.

“Well, I certainly appreciated their work better when it wasn’t making so much noise…”