Finally in a grand chamber deep within the ruins of the Dwarven city of Volenfell, we find what we came for, the resting place of the esoteric artefact known as the Guardian’s Eye.
Whatever function it served, whatever power it held, the Dwarves obviously feared its loss for they saw fit to protect it with three imposing sentinels, a trinity of mechanical Centurions duty bound to stand dormant watch over the artefact centuries after their builders have disappeared.
Dormant that is until I approach the relic, at which point the trio seemingly wake in unison, steam hissing, joints and pistons all creak, grind and chirr as one, a malevolent mechanical overture perhaps not heard echoing through this chamber for hundreds of years. Slowly the three giants converge around the relic, preventing me from getting any closer.
Perhaps the harboured relic was once a weapon of terrible potency, maybe it is the key to how the Dwarves powered all the machines of their desert cities, or mayhap it is a vital clue to the greatest mystery of them all, the disappearance of the Dwemer people themselves.
Whatever its worth or purpose, I have not come so far to baulk at such a blaze of bellicosity, and so as I unsheathe my sword and raise my shield, I ask of life once again… what more does a soulless man have left to lose?