Field log: Day 1
My trials and studies on autonomous enchanted armour and weaponry have all proven to be failures. This project over the last year... off and on admittedly... has proven to be a challenge.
The Ayleids and Dwemer have nothing for me in this respect. I will leave the creation of mechanized manifestations to my peers. I want to use magic and magic alone to breathe life into otherwise unorchestrated metal.
It has recently been suggested to me that I travel to the Hew's Bane peninsula of Hammerfell. There are old Ra Gada ruins that are purportedly guarded by ancient and autonomous suits of armour. I have been to Hammerfell many a time. Never seen that.
Perhaps I hadn't heard of it prior due to the local's distaste for magic.
Nevertheless, should this exploration show initial success I will contact the local Mage's Guild and attempt to establish a connection with any scholars who may have an understanding the old history and magics.
My portal to this arid land is open. Even now, as I write, I can feel the hot wind blustering into my tower. Should I find anything of note, I will continue this log.
Field log: Day 4
I have traveled from Abah's Landing to the outskirts of a place known locally as "Bahraha's Gloom". I have it on the authority of my fellow caravaners that there is an ancient evil that dwells within the dank and decrepit tombs. A Yokudan Lich named Magnifico Bahraha. He'd need to be a lich to keep his dust manifested in any sort of form. He might even be older than my mother. By accounts this Lich broods in his lair, surrounded by many necromancers and the damned souls of those pressed into his ever lasting service.
I have a rather excellent vantage from the tree covered ridge I write from. Sketched some birds earlier. Tried to.. at least. Bastards wouldn't stand still. -- I have seen a couple of people go. Whether they're bandits, explorers or necromancers it seems unclear from this distance.
Padding the perimeter of the stonework and surrounding sandstone I have seen no sign of ventilation. I tested a string by many deep and narrow recesses with no luck. I don't want to suffocate into this hole like an idiot. I'd likely end up some brain dead zombie with his trousers around his ankles. Charming thought.
The exterior of the tomb is largely squared in its design. Well cut, smooth stone bricks make up the bulk of the structure. Walls and ceiling appear to be 3-4M thick. Rather ballsy to have a roof that heavy. A flat arch makes for the roof of the recessed entry. Lazy vines make for the only ornamentation on the slight overhang. From floor to ceiling the entry must be 10M tall and similar in depth. Four weathered columns mark either side of the entryway's interior wall. Two large statues stand vigil on either side of the entry way and many man-sized stand in aggressive stances along the columns.
Where the large statues have stone weapons, the man-sized statues bare clean and sharp metal weapons. Superstition never keeps away grave-robbers, I ought to know. That these statues still clutch their metal weapons suggests it would be wise to keep my distance from them.
The local harbourmaster said *Ink stains have ruined this part of the log*
I'll be glad to clamber into the stable climate of the tomb. Better to get intimate with dead things than muddle through these blazing days and frigid nights. This is why I don't live in the desert.
Maybe one of those cute necromancers will fancy a cuddle.