Sitting next to a small fire near the dwarven ruin of Mzinchaleft are a Nordic couple, Toralf and Mjoll. Her hand in his, she smiles, "I'm glad I found you, Toralf, and I'm doubly glad you've joined me on my adventures through Tamriel." He returns the smile, "Indeed, my love. I look forward to you taking the Snow-Song clan name in the near future, as we take our bond of matrimony." She nods and they touch their lips together for a sweet kiss.
"Why is the Legion after you, anyway?" "I've made the mistake of selling dwemer artifacts to many merchants across Cyrodiil. The trade of such artifacts is forbidden... No one knows the true power they hold, so they wish to execute me for breaking a law born of ignorance and paranoia." Mjoll's face betrays a look of concern, but she quickly banishes the emotion to the back of her mind, and simply smiles at him.
Mjoll turns around and leans her back up against his chest while he sits against a rock, rubbing her fingers on his golden armor next to them, "Tell me more of the dwarves," she relaxes further and closes her eyes as Toralf starts in on the history of the Deep Elves, the Dwemer.
"Well, a couple thousand years ago, in the early eras, a meteor crashed deep in the heartland of Morrowind, which transformed into Red Mountain, the volcano. Within the mountain was a powerful magical artifact, called the Heart of Lorkhan. Lorkhan was a divine god who assisted Akatosh with the creation of Nirn, the heavenly body we live upon.
"Meanwhile, the dwemer, deep under the northern ground, where Skyrim lies today, with their machines and contraptions, noticed the heart fall from the sky, and set out to Morrowind to investigate. The reason they are called dwarves was because they typically lived among giants, who, obviously, found them relatively small. Anyway, the Dwemer began building research station in the dunmer province for years after settling. When they realized the artifact's power, they thought they could perhaps harness said power to create their own form of a divine being.
"Soon after they recovered the Heart and experimented on it, their entire race was wiped off the face of Nirn, for some unknown reason. No one, even to this very moment, knows what happened, or even where they went, if they didn't just vanish into the Darkness." Toralf finds Mjoll fast asleep, put there by his deep voice telling the story of the Dwemer. He softly lays her down on the bed roll and lays next to her, falling to sleep shortly after.
Several hours later, pebbles on the ground next to the tent start rattling as the ground rumbles faintly. Toralf opens his eyes slowly and looks toward the nearby hill. He notices a cloud of dust in the distance, "Looks like the Legion has finally found me." He looks at Mjoll, peacefully sleeping next to him, and softly nudges her several times attempting to wake her up.
When she opens her eyes, he gestures toward the cloud of dust and says, "Do you recall that I told you one day we would be obligated to part ways?" Her smiles disappears from her face, "Yes... This is that day, isn't it?" Toralf stands up, out of the tent, and grabs a glass sword and hands it to her, "Indeed."
"Will we ever see each other again?" The man drops his eyes to the ground, which is now rumbling louder, the looming cloud growing in size as the silhouettes of at least six horses with armored riders fade into view within the cloud.
"Perhaps, my love, but for now, you must retreat into Mzinchaleft, there's no more escaping my fate." Without saying another word, she crawls out of the tent and tightens the buckles on her steel armor and hugs him. After the very quick goodbye, he turns around to face the now clear view of six horses with riders bearing Legion armor coming over the hill toward them. She quickly sprints toward the golden doors of Mzinchaleft and enters the ruins, looking back only once at Toralf, who returns the glance and whispers, "Goodbye Mjoll... My love."
Toralf falls to his knees and puts his hands behind his back as the Legionnaires surround him. As all six of them dismount and walk behind him, one of them wearing unique armor draws his sword. The officer walks up to Toralf and points the tip of his blade toward the Nord's head, "I am glad you are coming freely, I would hate to do this the difficult way. Endar Telvanni the Second, you are under arrest for your crimes against the Empire, under punishment of execution."