This has been the third week of this expedition, and so far we have barely reach the tower that leads to the great city of the Dwarves. Everyone is frozen from the constant storm that has wrecked havoc on the operation. I had brought my team along with some Redguards and Khajiit that I have paid to help dig into the tower. The tower was on top of a frozen mountain and our mining team has been mining through the ice for a few weeks now. We have only found a single dwemer scrap outside of the impenetrable fortress that holds many discoveries.
As I was in my tent researching all I can know about the Dwarves, the race of mer that disappeared many, many years ago, my colleague Wendill came into my tent. "The mining team has finally dug into the tower," Wendill said with great enthusiasm, "Shall I call the team to your tent Atticus?" Wendill was a nord who loved learning as much as any scholar I've ever laid my eyes upon. "We will start the expedition tomorrow, pay the miners the usual fee and then rest, you will need it," I said, Wendill looked at me with disappointment, the boy believes that rest is for the weak and that there are other things to do instead.
As I looked outside I saw that the storm was getting worse by the minute. I saw Wendill pray to the gods, "Wendill, head to your tent and just have an extra pelt tonight, tomorrow we will be out of the blizzard and into the depths."
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Death from the Dwemer
FanfictionAtticus, a legendary Imperial scholar, has discovered it all. Ayleid ruins, ruined forts, abandoned towns, caves, burial ruins, he has studied everything. Everything but the dwarven ruins, but when he hears of an old dwemer city inside of a mountain...
