"We should storm Red Road Pass now," the Nord man pleaded, his bald head shivering in the cold. "The giants will be dead already and a couple of witches we can handle easily. The longer we wait the darker it will get."
"Do you fear the darkness, Tolan?" the Breton woman mocked in a friendly manner as she pulled the blond hair from her eyes. "We will wait here for the scout to be sure."
"Very well, Carcette," Tolan replied, turning red in the face with embarrassment. "I just don't like to be sitting around in the snow all night waiting for some scout is all. Here he comes. Are they dead?"
"Yes," the scout replied. "Both the giants and the witches."
"Shall we head back to the Hall then?" Talon questioned Carcette.
Carcette thought for a time, nervously unsure of what to do.
"If the scout says the witches are dead that should be good enough," Tolan continued. "They course no threat to Nirn any longer."
"There was something about those witches body's that didn't seem right," the scout said.
"What do you mean?" Carcette questioned. "Explain the scene."
"Well, the witches have already harvested the giants for their ingredients but the witches themselves lay with iron daggers at their sides as if they were defending against attack but there was no blood or cuts that I could see. The bodies were the palest things that I've ever seen."
"Maybe we should investigate," Tolan said. "If there's something else out there we should know it."
The rest of the party began to give complaint of the idea.
"We are the Vigilants of Stendarr!" Carcette's voice yelled, silencing their discussion. "This order was founded after the Oblivion Crisis to protect all of Tamriel from any abominations that seek to prey on mortals, be it Daedra, Vampires, Werewolves or Witches. If there is another threat out there we shall know about it and we shall face it! Now who's with me?"
The small group of Vigilants cheered a war cry in response, holding their swords, maces and axes high as their blue robes blew in the wind and their steel plate armour shined in the moon light.
"Well then, lead us back," Carcette ordered the scout.
The group fallowed the main road in between the east and western mountains until they left the road towards Red Road Pass. The group crept closer using the rocks and large snowberry bushes for cover.
"Something's not right here," Tolan whispered to the others as they all examined the giant's camp.
The giant's fire still burned in the centre of the camp, casting light within the camp. The fire was small for a giant's but still large enough to tower over any man. The giant's dinner was still cooking on their stakes, three skeevers now charred black. Around the fire stood many stone bowls filled with mammoth's cheese, each of them half the height of a fully grown person. There was also a large iron chest overgrown by a large patch of fungus. The rest of the camp was decorated with the typical giant taste of painted rocks, mammoth skulls and bone chimes. The two giants and there mammoth were indeed dead, their limbs cut off and the organs cut out. Their man sized wooden clubs lay alongside their bodies where they had been fighting for their territory. The hulking mammoth lay nearby, its tusks ripped out. There was no sign of the witches.
"What do you mean something's not right?" Carcette asked as she and Tolan ventured fourth.
"Listen. It's too quiet," Tolan replied. "There's no wind in the trees or sounds of animals in the wilderness."
"They all lay dead here, I swear," the scout said pointing as the other Vigilants came out from the bushes.
"Namira's Rot!" Carcette said examining the fungus covered chest before she noticed the figure approaching out of the darkness. "Who's there?"
The Nord man walked further from the darkness as silent as an assassin, his eyes glowing a golden orange, with skin the palest complexion imaginable. His face was almost bat like with narrowed cheeks and a shortened nose, its bridge full of ridges. Ridges also appeared across his forehead and wet blood ran out of his mouth, up to his nose and down to his chin. His leather armour was a mix of red and black.
"She asked who you were, Vampire!" Tolan shouted, raising his steel Warhammer in both hands ready for battle.
"I don't answer to mortal meat," the creature replied revealing its fangs.
The zombified witches ran out of the darkness and locked in to battle with the other Vigilants as Tolan took on their master, one on one. The master raised a steel great sword over his head and brought it down, where it met with the grip of Tolan's Warhammer with a clash. Tolan blocked a second blow soon after but the third knocked him back and the forth he was too late to block. The steel sword cut through his robes but was stopped by the steel plate armour beneath. Tolan quickly stood back up, swinging his Warhammer with all his fury. The weight of the attack knocked the master straight into the giant's fire.
"Death means nothing to me…" He screamed as he burned." Lokil will have his artefact!"
Upon their masters death the thrall witches collapsed into piles of ash and the battle was over.
"That Vampire felt stronger than most," Tolan said sounding uneasy. "And his face was more disfigured than most."
"Keeper Carcette, look," the scout said pointing to the fire rising from the west. "The Hall of the Vigilant burns!"
"The Vampires are attacking," Tolan said jumping back into action. "We must hurry!"
"Wait," Carcette said, holding him back. "I need you to travel north for me, to dawnstar. Seek out Skald the Elder. Plead with him for reinforcements."
"They'll never make it to you in time."
"Please, do as I say."
"Very well," he finished before running away back to the road.