Quiet hall, isolated from the world
Miaomiao Red Mountain, surrounded by relatives
Shout for reason and worship the mountains
The pride of Dwemer is stronger than iron and stone
——"Exploring the Dwemer, Volume 1", scholar Selvigor Wren
***
The tunnel was very long, very long. Turka estimated that they had probably walked for more than ten minutes. Calculating in a straight line, they had already gone deep into the ground for at least one kilometer. Silence is like a giant beast stalking in the shadows, hiding immense pressure. Everyone can only focus on the road in front of them, and as they go deeper into the ground, the air becomes more and more humid and sultry. If you listen carefully, you can hear the sound of the wind blowing on the rocks and corridors. Voice. It was clear that they were nearing the bottom of the ladder.
"Very interesting." Turka muttered. He was the first among everyone to discover the cave at the end of the field of vision and the huge underground ruins behind it. In the dark and silent cave, his voice echoed among the rocks and wind.
"What?"
Everyone looked at Turka's dragon-like golden vertical pupils, becoming even more convinced that he was probably not of the blood of a certain giant or Argonian. (Of course, no one dared to tease Turka Aracano like this to his face. In Nargis’s memory, some idiot once blurted out and humiliated the powerful demigod. As a result, the idiot was destroyed by a Tum. (No bones left)
Turka did not answer. Ilúvatar's chosen one seemed to have remembered something, and his cold, vertical pupils glowing with faint golden light flashed with interest several times.
A gloomy look flashed in the eyes of Islaan and his companions. They walked for a while and came to the entrance of a rock wall nearly six meters high. Fortunately for Turka, the tunnel and the entrance of the cave were dug. They must be relatively spacious, otherwise he would be too uncomfortable.
"Look what we found," the Brightonian raised his eyebrows and said with some excitement, "an underground ruins."
At this time, a gust of breeze blew across everyone's faces, and the smell was very strange, like decaying rotten meat, coupled with a greasy sweetness, which was creepy. Coupled with the gloomy and dark cave, Islaan's expression looked solemn, "The smell of blood."
The ascetic chanted the second mantra.
A ball of light emitting soft yellow light passed over everyone's heads and slowly sank into the darkness behind the rock wall cave. It didn't stop until it hit a stone wall.
"Dwemer ruins." Duran said with certainty. Although the brightness of the light group was not as clear as Magnus, the ascetic monks had enough evidence to confirm based on the places illuminated by its flight trajectory. This is an ancient Dwemer ruin.
Look. We can see that this is a room about fifteen or six meters high and seven or eight meters wide, with a similar architectural and decorative style to the Markarth City above them. All kinds of dim metal walls and stone chairs, odd shapes, furniture, utensils and broken bottles can be seen everywhere. There are complicated patterns on the bottles, and knowledgeable mages and scholars can easily recognize them. These things are the emblems of the Dwemer civilization in a certain period.
A stone bed slightly smaller than a normal human being was placed near the north of the room, and directly opposite it, a large hole more than six meters high was dug. It was Israan and the others who saw it. The entrance to the rock wall. There is a stone table on the left near the west, with a candle on it. Although the candle is not lit, judging from the half-burned traces, someone must have been here.
Thinking of the paved stone road in the corridor and the obvious traces of cutting and axing at the entrance of the cave, it is obvious that someone excavated this corridor leading directly to the Dwemer ruins under Markarth, and its purpose...
Disturbingly, Israan discovered a large pool of what appeared to be blood stains on the ground. With the vigilant's rich experience, he could deduce that someone seemed to have murdered some innocent people here, and then dragged them like an animal into the darkness where the light group above the ascetic's head could not shine.
Following the direction of the blood on the ground, everyone cast their sights to the south of the room, where there was a dark shadow with wind roaring and blowing out of it, as if evil was laughing. This is the main entrance to the room. That's where the blood stains disappeared.
"This is not surprising. The city of the Nords was built on the ruins of Dwemer." With the help of the light ball on the ascetic's head, Islaan discovered the braziers on both sides of the cave entrance, which were filled with oil. Combined with various ominous traces, the Red Guards became even more uneasy. The brave warrior picked up a discarded torch from the ground and said with a sullen face, "But our purpose is not archeology. Now, let's move on. Apart from this, we There is no choice.”
The Redguards used flint to light the oil-covered torches, tightened their grip on the axes in their hands, and then resolutely walked into the darkness first.
"Blessed by the merciful Lord." The ascetic monk Duran held down the amulet that had already melted into a ball, whispered the name of Standal, and followed closely.
Behind them were the Demon Swordsman and the Huntress. Turka could even hear the magic swordsman mutter a few words in a low voice, his tone full of helplessness.
"You're not really like these fools, are you?" the assassin said. "This is really stupid. We shouldn't have come down here. This place makes my hair stand on end."
Turka glanced at him and said, "Don't forget, your destination was originally here." He said, "Besides, you can also escape, just like last time." Then he ignored him and walked in.
Nargis gritted his teeth, he really regretted it. He looked back at the tunnel without a trace of light, and then at the cave entrance of the rock wall that exuded a faint golden light, "My brain must have been infected by werewolf disease, Shure! Okai! Ginet! DiBella... ...Hell! Whether it’s the Holy Spirit or the Lord of Annihilation, as long as he can protect me from this endless darkness, I will believe in him!” The one-eyed assassin gritted his teeth fiercely, picked up another torch from the ground, and followed him. .
Behind the door is a long passage with countless rooms next to it. Israan pushed open the door of one of the houses. The bronze stuck shaft made a harsh clicking sound under the push of the Red Guards, which spread far, far away in the dark ruins.
"If there are devils living here, they must have been woken up by you." Xi Lang couldn't help but say.
"Shut up." Islaan shouted in a low voice. He held a torch in one hand vigilantly and clutched the steel battle ax tightly in the other. He carefully looked inside and found that in addition to various broken furniture and rotten There was nothing in it, so he let out a sigh of regret.
"Release another detection technique." Islaan ordered the magic swordsman.
The Breton resisted the urge to roll his eyes and whispered a spell. A burst of green light flashed, and the rippled magic aura surged into the depths of darkness again.
Facing the probing gazes of his companions, Xi Lang shook his head solemnly.
"We can only keep moving forward." Islaan said to his companions, "No matter whether there is hell waiting for us ahead."
So they moved on.
However, the further you go inside, the more eerie it becomes. Most of the rooms are abandoned. Judging from the furniture, decorations, and various living utensils that are still neatly arranged inside, except for some man-made damage, it can be seen that the original owner did not have time to pack these things before they suddenly disappeared - About Tamriel Regarding the disappearance of the Dwemer, it is recommended to read books such as "Exploring the Dwemer", "The Lost Race of Tamriel", "The Battle of Red Mountain", etc. In general, it is the reason why the Dwemer are called dwarves. The Heart of Lorkhan in the Red Mountain, and the entire race disappeared in an instant (of course, it is also said that it was cursed by the demon Azula) - and for some reasons, the people who followed did not make a big deal. Destroy everything here, so Turka and the others can still see the humanistic style, living customs, etc. of this race from the majestic underground ruins.
The high roofs reflected the shadows of torches and magical light sources, and the walls and floors were covered with moss and dried blood. The passage is deep and gives off an unsettling aura.
Turka followed the followers of Standal leisurely. Sometimes he would stop and look for something in the abandoned rooms; sometimes, he would look strangely at some huge pipe gods. The god muttered something that Nargis couldn't understand.
Several times, the assassin had to help him unlock the Dwemer's traps and traps - in fact, he even suspected that the original target did not kill him precisely because he could help him solve some minor troubles. '.
I'm not a mean little thief! The one-eyed assassin shouted sadly in his heart. Then he watched helplessly as the original kidnapping target took out a few worthless ancient coins and... from the former owner's storage box with great interest.
"Huh, a sword?"
Turka excitedly pulled out a sheathed sword. The golden scabbard with a certain oil smell and the intact strap on the hilt can confirm that this exotic sword is probably a weapon made by the Dwemer. And it looks like it can still be used.
Turka took hold of the "dagger" - to be honest, human weapons were too 'small' for him - and pulled it out. I saw that the golden sword body exuded the unique light of Dwemer metal. The spine of the sword was a little more convex than ordinary swords. There were some star-shaped inscriptions on both sides. The sword was inlaid with turquoise. The hilt was well-used. Wrapped in three-tooth dolphin leather, it is non-slip and can be stored for a long time.
The weight of the sword is a little heavier than the iron sword of Old Tang Disi, and the sword body is slightly shorter, but the balance of the sword is very good, and it is a sword with a high level of craftsmanship. more importantly……
choke.
Turka swung the Dwemer one-handed sword that was too short for him, and saw a flash of red light. The sword actually cut off a corner of a stone table next to him, and there were obvious marks on the broken section that had been burned by fire. Mark of.
Is this possessed?
Turka thought excitedly. He raised the sword and looked at it carefully. He remembered the famous joke: Didn't you enchant my weapon? Why can’t I even cut the butter?
After a long absence, a strange smile appeared on Turka's lips.
But soon, this inappropriate impulse died out. In fact, this sword can not only cut butter, but can even split stones into two with ease. He looked at the dagger in his hand, gently brushed the sharp edge with his hand, and squinted, as if he was feeling something.
Nargis' breathing stopped for several seconds. Because he saw that the sharp 'dagger' of the ancient Dwemer and Turka Aracano's palm rubbed together, emitting sparks that would only be emitted when steel is chewed, but the flames that could burn even stones black were not. It doesn't work for him.
Turka regretfully threw down the scrapped Dwemer sword, "One question." He whispered, "Can only soul stones provide constant magic power for enchantment?"
Turka was thinking about certain issues and his expression was a little dazed.
It was at this time that the attack occurred.
At that time, a dark wind that could freeze the blood in the body blew by, and the torch in the assassin's hand was dimmed. With years of experience and brutal assassin training, Nargis used the dagger in his sleeve to block the fatal blow at the most critical moment - the one-eyed assassin's pupils almost shrank to a small dot, the dagger in his hand and the The sharp claws deep in the black shadow struck each other, and they made a sound of steel as they bit. And recently, the opponent's pitch-black claws exuding a strange stench were only a hair's breadth away from his carotid artery!
"vampire!"
The assassin shouted and backed away. The torch in his left hand subconsciously poked at the dead gray face that he would never forget for the rest of his life. I saw the opponent opening his bloody mouth full of disgusting stench, revealing four sharp fangs, and let out a scream that was rumored to be soul-penetrating. It turned into a shadow, roaring from the assassin. The top of his head rushed over.
Nargis waved the torch in his hand nervously, and retreated to the corner vigilantly, clutching the dagger in his right hand, as if the familiar cold blade could give him the confidence he needed.
But the next moment, what made the assassin's pupils shrink sharply was that he seemed to notice that a similar sneak attack had failed. In the darkness, someone recited a spell.
"No." The assassin shouted desperately. He didn't even have time to look at Turka. Firstly, the attack broke out too suddenly; secondly, Nargis thought maliciously that if he died...
As the wizard's spell fell, a beautiful but terrifying ice storm took shape rapidly, and finally broke out at the door, heading towards the two people in the room.
The rapidly rotating magic storm exudes a faint cold air that seems to freeze the earth. It roars and attracts everything in the room. It is divided and frozen into frost. The place where the magic storm passes even leaves a crystal clear streak. The ice flowers shone sharply with a metallic light.
Nargis almost thought he was dead.
The space inside the house is too small, which is not conducive to fighting. Moreover, as an assassin, Nargis is better at killing in the dark. He can silently kill any enemy who dares to leave his back to him, and he can also silently poison the target he wants to kill in the crowd. Even if he is allowed to temporarily act as a hunter, He can also shoot an arrow through someone's throat from a hundred paces away. But in any case, facing a battle mage directly was not his strength.
I hate mages!
In despair, Nargis could hardly help but vaguely recall his former prison life.
7017k
