Charles
It was roughly midday as a lone figure made its way through the tundra known as Winterhold Hold. The harsh rocky landscape constantly battered by snow storms and sharp winds was not foreign to the figure however. The figure itself had come from the namesake College of the hold and had prepared for the trek, a journey to a ruin of an ancient people long lost to Tamriel. The figure? A scholar from the College, a relatively young Dunmer woman named Arysea who had bundled up accordingly with her ancient goggles to protect her one good eye and Dwemeri purple fabric wrapped around her head and face for protection and warmth. Scuttling alongside her was a spider machine of Dwarven origin that she had fixed some time ago and now accompanied her on all her travels. And this most recent travel seemed to bringing her upon where there should have been a cave, yet now there was rock, rock that was out of place but was beginning to blend in with the white blanket that had been coating it for so long.
Albert
There's a slight clacking sound coming from the pile of rocks, *Clack clack clack*, it sounds like stone hitting stone, could someone be in there? There's no possible way there could be someone in there, one final clack hits the stone, then ceases, you swear you could hear a defeated sigh, though it is quite windy
Charles
Arysea stopped in her tracks and quickly made her way to sound of the very muffled clacking. Between the rocks themselves, the whipping snow, and her ears covered by her shawl, it was near impossible to hear. But when she got closer and leaned down, it became much more clear. Immediately dropping her bag to fetch her pickaxe, before returning the bag to her back so it didn't get soggy, the woman began working away at what she thought to be a solid rock face, her small spider companion also chipping away with it's claws, in an attempt to get to the source of the noise. Maybe if the person inside heard the chipping, they would begin working away from the inside as well to speed up the process.
Ray
He perks up, just having given up at breaking the rocks, having only been able to make a dent in the stone, he casts candlelight and picks up a falmer war axe from the ground, the same one he was using before, and starts hitting stone from his side, not doing much but at the very least letting the person know he's there
Charles
With an even larger vigor with the returned clanking, the Dunmer sets the ground ablaze for a handful of moments to remove the snow layer, granting better access to the stone. With the rock bare, she returns to removing chunks with her pickaxe. Lucky for the trapped party that Arysea was a spelunker as the average person would likely grow far too tired far too quickly to actually help whoever was trapped.
Ray
He places his hand on one of the rocks, freezing it solid, then hits it with the axe, shattering it, light emenates from the stone, and you can almost see him, he speaks up, with a shout, "Get away from the hole!" He yells
Charles
With the warning being the first thing she could hear clearly, Arysea tosses her pickaxe a few feet away and uses her newly freed hands to pick up her spider, backing away from the pinhole in the rocks to let whoever was stuck inside do what they needed to. Thankfully they seemed to have gotten to the end as Arysea had begun to grow tired of swinging the pickaxe, and wished to save her energy for her expedition, if she ever ended up even going to the ruins now that this occurrence had taken place.
Albert
A loud explosion is heard, as waves of fire, frost, and lightning pulse out of the cave, and out climbs an altmer, a long bushy beard and long hair tied back in a ponytail, with gray coming through at the roots, as he exits the cave he covers his eyes and almost stumbles back in, "Gods!" He exclaims as he falls to the ground
Ray
He stands up, brushing himself off, "It's been so long..." He says, with a deep sorrow. His clothing is shredded and tattered, barely holding together, save for a diadem on his head. There's a read leatherbound journal on his side, with a few pages sticking out, "What... What year is it?" He asks with a worried tone
Charles
The confused figure, all features still obscured by the fabric wrapping and goggles, responds, a feminine voice coming through. "The two hundred first year of the fourth era?" A questioning tone as the current date was something she would think obvious. Letting the shaken man recollect himself, she sets down the spider and walks to get her pickaxe, turning halfway to quickly exclaim, "Please don't hurt it! It's been... Uhm, domesticated!"
Ray
His eyes well up with tears, the fact donning on him, 60 years have gone by, 60 whole years, "I- I-" He stammers, falling onto his knees sobbing
Charles
Having already returned the pickaxe to her bag, the mystery woman ran over to the man who was now on his knees sobbing. Crouching down next to him, she gently patted his back in an attempt to comfort him. "Are you alright? How long were you down there?"
Ray
He manages to stammer out "Six... Sixty years..." Still sobbing, he wipes his tears with his hand and starts standing up, "I.. I need to contact my family, they must think I'm dead by now. I hope nothing has happened."
Charles
Arysea guides him to the rocks he had just blown up, as the remnants were relatively dry and could be used as stools for them to sit on. Setting her back on top of the spider that had followed them, she rifled around in it before pulling out a water skin and some bits of bread to offer the man. "You must be starving, please take as much as you need."
Ray
"I'm fine. Not hungry just, disoriented. I mean, 60 whole years, gone. I've been surviving off of mushrooms, chaurus, and filthy cave water!" He says with a pained laugh, "What has happened, in the last 60 years?"
Charles
She packed away the rations and thought for a moment. She'd only been alive for a little over 60 years but a decent amount had happened. "Well, there's a new emperor on the throne, Titus Mede II. The Thalmor and the Empire went to war, the Emperor signed a pact surrendering and they now work together. The Reach was briefly taken over. Hammerfell seceded from the Empire. And now Ulfric Stormcloak has killed the High King of Skyrim and the Stormcloaks have begun rebelling against the allied Thalmor-Empire forces." That was just about everything she could remember. "I think that's everything important? Fair warning, Altmer aren't very well liked with the Thalmor in power, so be careful when you return to wider Skyrim." She had just met him and always kept her opinion of the Thalmor to herself, but she figured this man had nothing to do with them since he was locked away for so long and he deserved that warning.
Ray
"You mean they're in Skyrim now? What's their business here?" He asks, concerned, "Up to no good, I'm guessing."
Charles
"Their business is whatever they say their business is. Most are wise enough to not question them. I hope you did not worship Talos as it is now banned anywhere the Thalmor have power." Her tone was slightly defeated as she described the tyranny of the Thalmor without ever actually saying her stance on them. "The wisest keep to themselves and let the Thalmor do as they please."
Ray
"That sounds right." He sighs, "I do not worship Talos, but I do not believe in what the Thalmor do. I feel sorry for the people here then, can't imagine the Thalmor have been friendly."
Charles
"It would be wise to keep that opinion to yourself. Only the stormcloaks openly oppose the Thalmor and we are not close enough to their territory to know that a Thalmor patrol won't stop by." Still under her wraps, she studied the man. The beard and greying, shaggy hair certainly showed his many decades of struggle. "The city of Winterhold is not too far from here, we could get you somewhere warm and cozy and get some real food to fill your stomach."
Ray
"I'd prefer a larger city, especially since Winterhold... Well you know that." He says, "I'd like to see a Thalmor Patrol stop me." His confidence is almost contagious, "I didn't survive down there for 60 years just to be thwarted by the *Thalmor*." He says, "Who's leading them, might I ask? If you know, that is."
Charles
"I suppose the next closest city would by Windhelm, run by the Stormcloaks." She responded, not seeing why anyone would hate Winterhold but obviously she was biased. In response to his question, also she could offer was a shrug. "Beats me. I just do my best to avoid any Altmer in black robes or gilded armor." She didn't exactly like the Thalmor but there was nothing she could really do. Besides, she let to herself so they wouldn't have a reason to take issue with her.
Ray
"I was there shortly before I got trapped... Suppose that's not their fault, they couldn't have known there would be a landslide that exact day." He chuckles, "Is Hoag still Jarl? Well, I suppose he's likely dead... Suppose it would be his son who's Jarl, yes? I believe his name was... Ulfton?"
Charles
"I believe the Jarl is Korir. Though I do my best to not get tangled in politics of any kind. I simply keep to myself, explore ruins, experiment when not exploring. It is a nice life, a cozy life. Sure it hasn't been perfect, but it works for me." Arysea truly did love her life for the most part, and her ambitions drove her to never give up on the lifestyle she lived, despite everything that had happened to her thus far.
Ray
"Korir? That can't be correct, Korir Stormcloak just doesn't roll off the tongue..." He says confused, "I lived my life like that, saw quite a few Dwemer ruins while I was in Morrowind, wasn't very exciting since the animunculi are all powered off. Though the traps were still functioning. Never got around to exploring one here in Skyrim, due to *Obvious* Circumstances"
Charles
"Oh! You meant Windhelm, my deepest apologies. Ulfric Stormcloak *Was* The Jarl until recently. He was arrested for the murder of High King Toryg, and I believe he is soon to be, or maybe already was, executed for it." She only knew this information due to how recent and how large it was in the provincial news. But he soon got to the topic of the Dwemer, and like a lever had been flicked, the young woman go to chattering. "The Dwemer? You research them too?" Her voice has gone up a pitch in excitement with the topic change. "I'm sure you could tell but I also have a vested interest in them." She motioned to her current Dwemer plate armor and the hallmark purple fabric around her head, before picking up the spider to hold in front of her. "This little guy is from Skyrim. I was born in Morrowind so I was similarly disappointed to find the animunculi had no source of power, though I was unlucky enough to find out the traps still worked... The hard way. But the ruins here are much more different! The Dwemer of Skyrim had a different style of building and their machines still work! Again, something I found out that hard way." She could show him her injuries from finding out the hard way, but decided to not do so unless he asked.
Ray
"Murder you say... That doesn't sound correct, from what I recall he was in the Legion Military, no? I wonder why he decided to kill the high king..." He says, changing focus to the talk of Dwemer, "Yes, I noticed your... Pet. You must know your stuff if you managed to change it's programming, that's no small feat." He says, he almost sounds impressed, "The animunculi here in Skyrim work? What powers them?" He inquires
Charles
"Again, I'm not the most reliable source for news. You'd have to ask an innkeeper in whichever city you end up going to, they seem to know everything nowadays." She really was quite ignorant about politics and general current events unless it impacted her personally. But the Dwemer? Now that she could talk about for ages. "It took a few years and collaboration with other scientists, but the little fella's yet to fail me." She appreciates the praises but does not bathe in it, a modest girl who doesn't much care for attention. "They're powered by soul gems! I haven't quite figured out exactly how that works yet, but I've been trying to reverse engineer it so I may get my spider from Morrowind functioning."