Fire rained down from the heavens as the Chimer and Dwemer forces battled on the slopes of Red Mountain.

On the foothills and all the way to the summit, regimented lines of golden armoured Dwemer soldiers and whole legions of Centurion automatons stood firm against the massed ranks of Chimer warriors. The Dwemer battlelines were as firm and unbreakable as the bronze metal their civilisation was built on, and their stoic massed shieldwalls contrasted completely with the swift cavalry and light troops of their Chimer adversaries. Once these armies had marched together, their different skills and fighting styles perfectly synergising; the solid rock of Dwemer infantry complementing the adaptable flow of Chimer. Ebony and brass. Night and day. Now, sworn enemies.

As the screams and clash of blades reached his ears from his lofty position on a rocky outcrop overlooking the battle, Nervevar, leader of the Chimer, narrowed his eyes. His proud face, lined by decades of stern, just rule, was now set in an expression of pure anger. The Dwemer, once thought to be their allies, sought to rival the powers of the gods themselves. Nervevar had heard from the goddess Azura herself of how the prideful Dwemer were attempting to achieve godhood for themselves. Toi bend all of reality to their logical, blasphemous ways. The world was not another problem for them to solve, not some experiment, and Nerevar knew he and his devout Chimer would bring the fury of the Daedra down on the Dwemer, no matter how hard they tried to stop them.

And now, as the slopes of Red Mountain were bathed in crimson and the corpses of countless slain warriors, he took a deep breath.

"Azura guide me," he said under his breath, before pushing closed the cheekpieces of his ebony helmet. He was no longer Nerevar, friend of the Dwemer, loyal ally and confidant to King Dumac himself. He was the champion of Azura, the spear in her hand to be plunged into the Dwemer's blasphemous hearts.

He looked around him where his advisors, Vivec, Sotha Sil and his wife, Almalexia, sat atop their mounts, and drew his sword. The Chimer reserves were arrayed all around them in loose formations, ready to join the chaos further up the mountain.

"Azura herself stands with us," he said, motioning to the fire raining down from the storm clouds above. "She brings down her holy flames on the heathens."

"We are ready to storm the mountain at your command," said Dagoth, his most trusted advisor and friend. The Chimer's light armour and ornate robes didn't conceal the confident smile crossing his youthful features. He would die for the cause, and Nerevar took comfort from his friend's utter faith in him.

Nervevar nodded as his sword, Trueflame, burst into a rippling red fire, and he turned to his advisors, "Keep the Dwemer forces occupied as long as you can. This is between me and King Dumac."

And with that he clattered down the rocky hill, Dagoth and his ten strong bodyguard at his back. They passed countless groups of Chimer warriors letting forth hails of arrows into the battle beyond; many of them shouting out oaths of fealty and encouragement as Nervevar passed. The Chimer leader raised his sword to the sky as the golden forms of the main Dwemer battle line reared up ahead.

While the Chimer under his command all wore unique and personalised armour, their weapons spiritually bonded to them like a child to its mother, the Dwemer were the exact opposite. Their straight swords, locked shields and blank faced helmets made them look as mechanical and unnatural as their formidable automatons that loomed over their shield walls. Stoic and immovable as the mountain they defended.

Glancing to his sides to see more and more Chimer cavalry at his back, Nervevar raised Trueflame to the heavens.

"For Azura!" He roared, and the cry was taken up by every Chimer within earshot. He galloped straight towards the Dwemer lines, deflecting arrows and spells with his shield as he and the cavalry slammed into the dwarven soldiers, cutting a bloody swathe through them. Trueflame's bright blade melted their armour and split open their skulls, whilst Nerevar's bodyguard, their longswords flashing in the sun, covered every side, cutting through the dwarven legionaries. Their armour and weapons may have been peerless in Tamriel, but Nerevar knew that once their formations broke the Dwemer's own rigid sense of order paralysed them. They may have been as strong as pure iron, but they were just as brittle.

"Behold the power of the Dwemer!" Dagoth said with a sarcastic laugh as he galloped alongside Nerevar. The arrogant Chimer fired his towering bow of ebony and horn from the saddle, expertly putting the black fletched arrows through the eye slits and neck joints of the Dwemer's armour.

"Keep your guard up!" Nerevar ordered as he dodged a thrown spear which instead impaled a nearby Chimer cavalryman, before trampling the spear thrower under his horses steel shod hooves. Dagoth was a great warrior, but his own recklessness would get him killed one of these days. Glancing quickly at the ongoing battle, he couldn't help but think that many Chimer were just like Dagoth. The Dwemer may have been stubborn and predictable, but the Chimer's own individuality and recklessness in battle was only causing hundreds of them to die needlessly.

As Nerevar thought this the Dwemer line up ahead began to move back as a pall of steam issued out over their lines. Nerevar felt his blood chill as a a distinctive clanking of metal echoed out and the ground shook as shadowy figures, ten foot tall loomed out of the steam

"Centurions!" bellowed a nearby soldier, seconds before a flight of Dwemer bolts took him in the chest and he fell screaming from his horse.

Nerevar powered onwards as the brass and gold forms of the Centurions appeared, their hammers and steam breath cutting through the Chimer's loose formations. And after their formidable creations came the Dwemer themselves, finishing off the Chimer still left alive; their skin burnt away by the Centurion's steam.

Flights of arrows broke off their armour, whilst the spells thrown at them by the cloaked Chimer battle mages were deflected off onto their own forces. Chimer foot soldiers died in agony as flames and lightning crossed their bodies, going to their graves cursing their own kind

Nerevar brought his horse around the armoured sides of one of the lead Centurions as it was distracted by a horde of Chimer spearmen, their ebony spear tips snapping on the creature's thick armour. Again and again he struck it in the traditional weak spots, the neck, joints and under the arms, and yet the brass titan still cleaved through his forces, ignoring his puny attacks.

"Bastards have been busy upgrading their toys!" he shouted over at Dagoth, who was currently turning his mount in all directions to escape a Centurion's axe. Calling on Azura's blessings, Nerevar kept hitting the brass titan's armour, leaving little more than scratches and gouges in its invincible form. Even the blade's formidable enchantments only crackled harmlessly over the Centurion's armour. As powerful as an insect bite on a mountain.

With a whoosh of steam and a clank of gears, the Centurion turned to face him, its golden face impassive as it raised its tree trunk sized arms. In one movement it swept aside two of his bodyguard. The two Chimer and their horses were turned to splashes of blood and shreds of flesh in one stroke.

As it advanced Dagoth poured arrows into it from behind, having lost his own pursuer as it carved up a host of Chimer spearmen. But the projectiles merely stuck into the golden armour or rebounded and clattered to the baked earth. Nerevar held his shield close to him as it kept coming. He was ready to try and deflect the scalding hot steam he had seen many of his warriors horrifically cooked alive by.

Suddenly there was a crackle of lightning from the left which struck the Centurion full on, throwing it on to its side. Its armoured form wreathed in blue sparks as Hamus, commander of Nerevar's bodyguard, appeared from over a mound of dead Chimer warriors, the lightning still crackling around his left hand, his right arm hanging useless at his side whilst his armour and cloak were caked in blood and dust. Behind him were a force of other mages, and Nerevar felt a stab of fear as he realised it had taken the full force of a dozen wizards to overwhelm the metal beast's armour and bring it down.

"Keep going sir!" he said with a grim smile. "We'll hold them," he added, but Nerevar could hear the doubt in his voice. Then he was running, gathering more lightning in his palm as the Centurion he had struck down began to pick itself up. Behind it more of the golden automatons could be seen as the smoke began to clear. But that wasn't what scared Nerevar the most. It was the Dwemer soldiers advancing behind, slow and unstoppable as a glacier, shields locked and spears lowered.

"We have to stop this!" Nerevar bellowed and Dagoth clattered up the hill. Chimer and Dwemer warriors battled on all sides as a towering stone and gold archway loomed up ahead. A ragged group of wounded Dwemer stood to defend it, surrounded by the bodies of their brethren and at least twice as many vengeful Chimer.

The two of them leapt from their horses and Nerevar raised Trueflame above his head as he shouted, "Cut them down! Warriors of Azura!"

His ears rang with his loyal warrior's battle cries as they rushed forward, overwhelming the few remaining Dwemer and hacking them down. Nerevar took no pleasure in the victory as he turned to the victorious Chimer. He could see in their faces that they would follow him to the gates of Oblivion itself, but this last battle was one that he could only face alone except for his greatest ally.

"Guard the gate, all of you! The enemy won't be so easy to kill when they attack again! This is between me and their king!"

Dagoth instantly fell into step beside him, nocking another arrow to the string, as the two warriors entered the Dwemer labyrinth alone.

The tunnel that stretched before them was quiet except for the constant clatter of machinery that all Dwemer structures echoed with. Nerevar felt a slight prickle of fear across every part of him as he and Dagoth plunged further in, past the scuttling forms of mechanical spiders that clicked and whirred in the shadows, unwilling or unable to do anything to stop the two intruders.

"Where are the guards?" Dagoth whispered, having shouldered his bow and drawn his sword. The long ebony blade caught the unearthly light issuing from the strange mechanical lanterns in the carved stone around them, making its surface seem to shine.

"They must be further in. Or they were sent to help hold the mountainside" Nerevar said calmly, not wanting to let the rising sense of unease that he felt in this place unnerve his companion.

"And Dumac will be there, of course," he added with a shake of his head. Even though he had once considered the dwarven king his friend and ally, Nerevar was ready to plunge his sword into the fool's chest for this affront to the gods.

He had always thought the Dwemer's dismissal of the obvious power of the Daedra rash and stupid, but only now, as the tunnel around him echoed with the whines and hisses of their race's bizarre machinery, did he realise how mad and evil they truly were. As they were about to turn the corner, he heard a slight clatter of loose stone up ahead, and the heavy crunch of armoured feet.

Putting out a hand to stop Dagoth, Nerevar drew his dagger; a Dwemer blade ironically gifted to him by Dumac after the alliance against the Nords had been formed. He slowly edged forwards, his feet making no sound as he moved to the corner and, in one decisive movement leapt out and slashed at the assailant, intending to cut their throat. At the last moment a blast of steam blinded him momentarily but still he felt the dagger cutting in to flesh. As soon as the steam cleared he fell upon the attacker, pushing them roughly to the ground and raised his blade to strike.

But as the steam cleared fully he withdrew his blade and looked down at the figure before him; unarmed and clearly not a warrior. The Dwemer woman's armour was ill fitting and obviously not her own, lacking the slightly more shapely curves of female Dwemer armour, whilst her weapon in her hand, a small knife, lay useless on the stone floor. She put a hand to the jagged scar across her left cheek, blood pumping freely out across her pale hands and in to the long curled black locks of her hair.

"You won't stop our ascension!" she spat, but Nerevar simply stood up and walked away, her insults and jeers ringing in his ears as he waved Dagoth away and the two men ran on down the corridor.

"You cannot stop the apotheosis of the Dwemer!" she screeched as they turned the corner and disappeared from her view into the steam.

They passed under an ornate gold plated stone archway, through a pall of steam and smoke, and, for a second, Nerevar felt a sense of equal parts fear and awe as he saw what lay ahead.

The room was huge, carved out of the side of the volcano itself, as the bubbling of lava far below attested to. Huge golden piping stretching across the chiselled stone, whilst the thin stone walkway they stood on stretched far out over a shadowy abyss falling away on all sides. But it was the monstrous figure which stood in the centre of the vast chamber which caused him the most shock.

"The Numidium…" Dagoth said with an obvious sense of reverence as they stepped closer, marvelling at the huge golden being, armoured in a similar fashion to the Dwemer themselves, but hundreds of metres tall. Its head was almost lost in the shadows above as hot ash and steam burst up from all sides.

Nerevar heard a clattering of armour and weapons being drawn, and turned to see a group of Dwemer warriors advancing upon them, armed with heavy battle-axes and maces. And at the centre of them, his helmet off to reveal his flowing black hair and impressive beard filled with golden rings and medallions, stood Dumac, King of the Dwemer. Behind this wall of gold and brass was the robed form of Kagrenac, the Dwemer's' so called' Tonal Architect'.

"Stop this madness Dumac!" Nerevar pleaded, but, although he saw sorrow and regret in the old king's eyes, the Dwemer took his greatsword from one of his attendants and stepped forward.

"We can't stop now, even if we wanted to…" he said simply. "The Heart of Lorkhan, the scorned god, was thrown to the mortal realm millennia ago for this exact purpose, to turn our race from mere mortal creatures into gods! I cannot let you stop my race's apotheosis."

Nerevar sighed deeply, looking the king in the eyes one last time before, with a savage war cry, he leapt forward. Dumac's blade clattered against his momentarily before Nerevar swung for the king's face and his bodyguard rushed in to defend him. Nerevar could feel his sheer fury seem to pour off him like fire, and his arms seemed to work independently of his tumultuous thoughts as the Dwemer bodyguards of the king fell. They were the elite of the elite, and yet Nerevar barely even noticed how easily he seemed to be fighting them all at once.

He didn't feel anything anymore except anger. Anger at the Dwemer for their arrogance. Anger at Dumac for his betrayal of their friendship. And most of all, anger at himself for not stopping this mad scheme before it got too far gone for them to walk away from alive.

He barely noticed his blade as it cleaved through the Dwemer warriors, didn't see the fear through their eye slits as he and Dagoth laid waste to them. He only allowed his vision to clear of the red haze of rage that had settled over it when it was only him and Dumac, standing across from each other. Dagoth stood to one side, knowing this fight Nerevar had to fight alone.

"For the Dwemer!" Dumac roared as he swung his blade, Nerevar only just leaping to one side to dodge the weapons broad swing, before bringing his shield up, knocking the Dwemer back whilst slashing for his sides. Only the king's thick armour stopped him from being cut in two, but he was quick to counter, swinging the greatsword above his head and down in an attempt to cut open the Chimer from neck to crotch.

"The power of the gods is within our grasp." Dumac shouted. Even as he rolled to one side to dodge the swing of the king's greatsword, Nerevar e could sense the regret behind the Dwemer's words. The feeling that the king did not truly believe in what he was fighting for.

But then the king ran at him and, with a clash of metal, their swords slammed against one another, so close they could read the runes carved into each other's blades. With a shout Nerevar brought his shield around, slamming it in to the Dwemer's side and knocking him back. For a second the king stumbled back, then collapsed over the bloody corpse of one of his bodyguard and fell into a heap on the cold stone, his greatsword clattering away from his grasp

He reached for the shortsword at his waist, but already Trueflame was pressed up against his neck, the heat burning the skin around his throat.

Nerevar looked down at his defeated enemy, not with rage, but with pity. This man was not fighting for his race's chance to become gods. He was only fighting for his duty.

"The Heart is ready!" he heard Kagrenac screech with unbridled glee. The Dwemer seemed to not even notice the life-or-death struggle happening in front of him.

As Kagrenac laughed from nearby, Nerevar looked at Dumac once more and saw the king close his eyes, a single tear tracing down his cheek.

"I…am sorry." He said softly, then there was a blinding flash of blue light and the king was gone.

But not just him, Nerevar noticed. The bodies of the slain bodyguard were gone, leaving nothing behind but a few scraps of armour and scattered weapons, as was Kagrenac. The only items to mark the High Priest's disappearance being a small dagger, hammer and an ornate golden gauntlet.

He saw Dagoth nearby looking on wide eyed, then the chamber was echoing with oncoming footsteps and shouts. He turned to see Vivec, Sotha Sil and Almalexia, at their back a score of Chimer warriors, bloodied and battered but victorious.

"They've gone!" Almalexia cried, and, as Nerevar and Dagoth looked on in confusion, she continued. "The Dwemer are all gone. Nothing but swords and armour left. The Centurions, Spheres, all their abomination machines, they've all collapsed or fallen apart!"

As the others cheered and celebrated Nerevar looked down at the floor where Dumac had been lying. Nothing remained of his best friend but his greatsword. Nothing remained to show the king had ever existed. Nerevar felt a wave of competing emotions digging into his mind as he fell to his knees. He looked out at the empty chamber and the remains of the Dwemer before saying, in a low, defeated, tone,

"What have you fools done?"