Thunder bellowed into the distance, flashes of lightning blinded the hooded traveler. How he hated thunderstorms. It was wet, cold, not to mention dangerous, as one would never know where the next strike of bright lightning would shatter the ground. If only he could clear the skies, then at least he wouldn't have to worry about slippery roads, not hearing bandits or rogue vampires who could be ambushing him, or accidentally walking into a mountain of a Cave Bear or an angry giant. If possible the hooded traveler wished to avoid that. With every step, his heavy, Nordic Armor creaked and screeched, demanding a proper oiling, and a dry place. The thoroughly soaked male knew it could rust quickly in these conditions. At least his sword wouldn't rust in it's sheath. The man clad in Nordic steel did not worry a single second about it. After all, the Dawnbreaker is a Deadric artifact. It had taken him a full week to reach that bloody boat to ferry him over to the island where that castle filled with the worst of vampires. Having aided a well known man and a female vampire in uncovering an insidious plot to blot out the sun, and plunge the whole of Tamriël into an age of utter darkness and rule it with the iron fist of fear and chaos, the traveler had reluctantly went to set to save the world... for the third time by now. Suddenly he felt his usually sturdy stride start to slip. His legs gave out and slipped. Before he could manage to regain his balance, he smashed down to the hard, cold ground, spraining his right elbow, and adding to the numerous dents and scratches on his heavy armor. His cloak was now grimy with dirt and mud, as the ground was at least as soaked as he was. Grumbling in frustration, the shrouded stranger was slow to get up. How long ago was when he last had a decent rest? Heck he could not even remember. By the time he had crossed the icy water using that unsteady, old boat The wanderer breathed out in relief. Like last time when he used that bloody thing, he braced for a cold swim. That ancient ferry looked as if it might give up and break at any moment. He took it's rims to row through the cold ice ridden sea. Grunting with mild exertion, the male started to row. He didn't look awfully tall, or even buff for a Nord. Frankly he had a rather lean posture, which had been quite to his dismay. However, looks, as often, were deceiving. The traveler easily lifted a battlehammer as if it was nothing. Many wondered if he didn't secretly have a Daedric or werewolf ancestor. Both might be true, or not. It didn't matter the slightest. This black hooded traveler was known as someone who could get the job done, one way or another. However he did hold a secret, a powerful and dangerous one at that. Narish made sure of that. For Nirn was no his true home. Neither Daedra, Aedra, Mer or Human, this male is one of his kind. An eternal wanderer of sorts.
With a dead 'thud' the small, fragile boat landed on the other side, the remains of what used to be a small docking port for this ferry still standing there in their depressing state. Narish rose, dismounting the little boat ever so careful, seeking not to fall once more, the traveler proceeded. He walked past the gargoyles, right up to the main gate. Gritting his teeth the male banged with his Nordic Steel gauntlet against the rusted gate. The result was a surprisingly clear clang. He proceeded 3 times. Clang... Clang... Clang... no answer. Again, he clanged his steel gauntlet, harder this time, leaving little dents in the gate.
A raspy, old voice finally answered. "Yes, yes, I'm coming, I'm coming! Have a little patience for an old man!" Of course Narish had expected the old gatekeeper. This old man's loyalty was with the castle and it's gate, not with it's ruler. Serana seemed to like the old wrinkly vampire. He however was revolted by this gray haired creature. "It's you..." the older looking of the two croaked. The black-hooded traveler clad in Nordic Steel returned a scowl. "Are you going to let me in, or do I need to bust down the gate like last time..." Without a word the old gatekeeper opened the rusted metal barrier that obstructed Narish. He made his way to Serana's laboratory. To meet with the only one in Tamriel he still cared for, the only one who's call for aid he'd answer.
Author's note: Well look at that. The first chapter of my first story. Though i have been a roleplayer for years, i'm kinda new to writing on my own. Still, hold nothing back on critique. I want to learn. I am however susceptible to writers block. I can't promise regular updates, so bear with me! Please do review!