@aetheriusbound
Of all the places to become lost, she had to do it in a Dwarven ruin. Haleth peered down one hallway lined with steaming pipes to gaze down another. With a huff, she turned back to the center of the ruin, likely a room that had once been someone’s parlor or dining room. Her father’s grandfather, a Telvanni mage with a fascination for all manner of machines, had requested a list of items, all of which she’d had to guess their appearance. Her knapsack filled with things she could have never imagined, she had hoped to find her way out; but the ruin was dark, its labyrinthine halls rendering her map useless.
“Fine!” she cried, throwing her hands up and letting the leather bag fall from her shoulders with a thud, “I’ll try again in a minute.” She sat down on the hard, smooth stone, her arms crossed as she looked over the map once more.
Before she could become intrenched in her study, however, the sound of footfalls and a strange tapping reached her ears. Her heart pounded. There weren’t supposed to be other people in Dwemer ruins, and those she usually found were bandits or worse. Quickly, she dropped the map and climbed one of the cooler pipes, a hand waiting near her knife as she watched for the uninvited guests.
