Dwarven Automatons Content . By Herbane , Nord The Dwarves have been extinct for many an age , and perhaps that ' s for the best . To see men and women the size of large children , all with beards , would be a most disturbing sight . Still , whatever wrath the Dwarves brought from the gods that consumed an entire civilization surely must have been an awe - inspiring thing to witness . The remnants of their civilization lie buried in the hearts of mountains . Scholars and thieves the world over descend on the skeletal remains of Dwarven cities like vultures to scrape clean the bones of the past , old knowledge waiting to be exhumed , and treasures to be discovered . But many men lie murdered in those halls of the damned , because those Dwarven ruins do not release their treasures without a fight . My kin would tell stories long ago , when I was just a child , about how adept the Dwarves were at building machines . They would say that before our time , Dwarves harnessed the power of the earth . They wielded fire and hammers to reshape steel and bronze with a mechanical brilliance that breathed life into these now ancient constructs of metal and magic . In their dark halls and chambers , amid the ceaseless droning of grinding gears and venting steam , they lie in wait to confound or destroy would - be plunderers of the Dwarven sanctums , as the grim watchmen of the last vestiges of culture from a dead race . I descended into the humid darkness of Mzulft . The slow hiss of steam , creaking of metal , and rattle of old gears powering an empty city would unnerve most men . I could hear things in the darkness , skittering across the floor just out of sight as I stepped over the bodies of plunderers or scholars who had not made it far . I knew it was not rats wandering these halls . Small mechanical spiders set upon me with rapid movements . Machines sprouted from the walls and uncurled from spheres into contraptions that rolled on top of gears for legs and crossbows for arms . I could not help but marvel at these single purpose machines built for the murder of men . My sword and my shield are my strength , and I am undeterred by such things . I had heard of greater things roaming these depths , and indeed , something else in these chambers stirred , and it echoed with massive weight . As it lumbered closer , its feet struck the ground as if walking on massive pistons . As it loomed out of darkness , I could see it clear for the first time , axe for one hand , hammer for the other , as tall as five men , made of dull bronze with a face molded in the image of its masters . A Steam Centurion . The stories were true . These were the guardians of the greatest Dwarven treasures . We fought , and the Dwarves must truly be extinct , because our battle was surely booming enough to wake the dead . It came at me with hammer and axe , inhuman strength , great fortitude , and a purpose of nothing but murder . I dodged as it crushed the stone around me with futile strikes . I thrust and slashed at it with my blade and took every opening afforded as we shook the halls with violence . I refuse to be undone by a machine . Where the average man would be long dead , I stood over the husk of this dead automaton , its steam escaping like a final gasp . I could have taken the Dwarven artifacts and metal , but I left them there for others , for I would not hex my journey with the possessions of dead men . Maybe that is where countless others go wrong . I will continue on my journey across the lands . Perhaps one day Herebane will meet a worthy challenge , for I have yet to see what would make me tremble .