Post by Salvahkiin on Jul 28, 2016 4:54:03 GMT -5
"An expert in Dwemer, looking to enter Valenwood looking for Ayleid ruins? I suspect you're more on this expedition far out of your comfort zone for research into Conjuration rather than Dwemer.”
"I would be a poor historian if I would pass an opportunity to investigate a long since passed civilisation. You misinterpret my intentions."
Modyn had played the game of diplomacy many a time in the past, and throughout his journeys and hardships, he had learned to play it well. It was not a lie. Modyn was truly a scholar at heart, but he held a fierce desire for more knowledge. Dwemer were his expertise, but he had a knowledge not easily rivalled on the other ancient Elven species. Ayleid, Chimer, Aldmer, Falmer. He knew and had learned the tales of each throughout his life.
"I must depart, though. Time is moving as if Akatosh himself were pushing it."
”We’d do well to satisfy the Divines.”
Modyn was accustomed to traveling without servants. He’d done so for centuries in his youth. A life on the road is better than no life at all. He occasionally enjoyed it. The fresh air, the purity of it all, it was refreshing, yet tolling on the body. His nostalgia was broken by the young Elf maiden's enthusiastic discussion of the Dwemer.
"Skyrim was home to many Dwarven cities- I saw a few ruins in Hammerfell also. Absolutely beautiful stonework, far advanced golden mechanical machines, built to defend the halls the Dwemer once roamed... they stopped me from actually going deeper into the ruins, flooding out of pipes. At the time, I lacked swordsmanship training- wait, wait..."
"Skyrim, Morrowind, Hammerfell. The Dwemer favoured the Northern provinces. For reasons I do not know for certain, but I can surely speculate. Their automatons defend their forgotten masters' halls as fiercely as if they were still there. I've had to deal with security many times in my excavations and explorations. I had always attempted to avoid or bypass them, as to not disturb the halls more than I had already."
She started to rummage through her bag. Modyn assumed she had taken a collectible from a Dwemer ruin. He sure had, many a time, throughout his life. There are few smiths today that could match that of a Dwemer. She pulled a plate from her bag. It was quite standard, in its design.
"Found this a while back... the amount of times I've dropped it is pathetic, but it doesn't even have a dent."
"That is the brilliance of the Dwemer, my dear. Their cutlery and dining equipment are near indestructible. Imagine the quality of their arms and armour, or even better, their Automatons, it is no easy task to defeat them, with their thick plating."
"Right!" His booming voice came out over the company's monotone tavern-room din. "Gather all your goods, equipment, companions. We move off in half an hour. Come on, come on! Black rats in snow move faster!"
And that was their queue to get moving. Modyn stood, and courteously walked outside, to double check his horse and supplies, for the eighth time.
If anybody looked to the other Dunmer at the nearby table, it was as if air became him, he had simply vanished.
"I would be a poor historian if I would pass an opportunity to investigate a long since passed civilisation. You misinterpret my intentions."
Modyn had played the game of diplomacy many a time in the past, and throughout his journeys and hardships, he had learned to play it well. It was not a lie. Modyn was truly a scholar at heart, but he held a fierce desire for more knowledge. Dwemer were his expertise, but he had a knowledge not easily rivalled on the other ancient Elven species. Ayleid, Chimer, Aldmer, Falmer. He knew and had learned the tales of each throughout his life.
"I must depart, though. Time is moving as if Akatosh himself were pushing it."
”We’d do well to satisfy the Divines.”
Modyn was accustomed to traveling without servants. He’d done so for centuries in his youth. A life on the road is better than no life at all. He occasionally enjoyed it. The fresh air, the purity of it all, it was refreshing, yet tolling on the body. His nostalgia was broken by the young Elf maiden's enthusiastic discussion of the Dwemer.
"Skyrim was home to many Dwarven cities- I saw a few ruins in Hammerfell also. Absolutely beautiful stonework, far advanced golden mechanical machines, built to defend the halls the Dwemer once roamed... they stopped me from actually going deeper into the ruins, flooding out of pipes. At the time, I lacked swordsmanship training- wait, wait..."
"Skyrim, Morrowind, Hammerfell. The Dwemer favoured the Northern provinces. For reasons I do not know for certain, but I can surely speculate. Their automatons defend their forgotten masters' halls as fiercely as if they were still there. I've had to deal with security many times in my excavations and explorations. I had always attempted to avoid or bypass them, as to not disturb the halls more than I had already."
She started to rummage through her bag. Modyn assumed she had taken a collectible from a Dwemer ruin. He sure had, many a time, throughout his life. There are few smiths today that could match that of a Dwemer. She pulled a plate from her bag. It was quite standard, in its design.
"Found this a while back... the amount of times I've dropped it is pathetic, but it doesn't even have a dent."
"That is the brilliance of the Dwemer, my dear. Their cutlery and dining equipment are near indestructible. Imagine the quality of their arms and armour, or even better, their Automatons, it is no easy task to defeat them, with their thick plating."
"Right!" His booming voice came out over the company's monotone tavern-room din. "Gather all your goods, equipment, companions. We move off in half an hour. Come on, come on! Black rats in snow move faster!"
And that was their queue to get moving. Modyn stood, and courteously walked outside, to double check his horse and supplies, for the eighth time.
If anybody looked to the other Dunmer at the nearby table, it was as if air became him, he had simply vanished.