Here we are, another re-uploaded chapter. I'm on a roll tonight, that makes number two. Probably helps I haven't done any drastic changes since chapter one (merged chapters one and two of Guardian).
Cannot remember if I mentioned it or not yet, but I've finally figured out what plot I would use if I did a crossover with my Fallout and Skyrim protagonists, Nathaniel and Hastrel respectively. I'd like to hear what everyone thinks.
Enjoy.
Hastrel almost couldn't believe it. After returning to Fort Dawnguard, he arrived at the same time as Sorine and Gunmar both. Considering he located the former out in the Reach and the latter near Ivorstead, such a thing was almost impossible.
Then again, considering the life he'd led since coming to Skyrim, Hastrel was not one for debating things like coincidence and fate. He may be fairly intelligent, but such things were best left to the philosophers to worry about. He'd rather just stick to killing things thank you very much.
Being locked in the fortress entry room by Isran, and subjected to some weird sunlight test, was to be expected. Hastrel had been wondering why he didn't have to go through it when he first arrived at the old fortress. Isran may have took paranoia to an art form, but Hastrel would have done the exact same had he been in the redguard's boots.
Isran was in the middle of doling out orders from his perch on high but, much like Harkon, Hastrel wasn't really listening to the speech. He would no doubt have his private chat once he was done with the underlings.
Hastrel made it no secret he was not one of Isran's subordinates he could just boss around. He didn't like it, but Isran didn't get a choice in the matter. Not to mention, once Hastrel had come back from his misadventure to Dimhollow Crypt, he found Fort Dawnguard under attack by vampires. To Hastrel, it was another day, another battle. Isran certainly remembered though.
"Isran can grouse all he wants." Hastrel mumbled to himself. "I was told to check the place out, not to gut my way through the place. Stupid vigilant, just couldn't wai…"
The sun was already down, but Hastrel had been so close to Fort Dawnguard, he decided to make the remainder of the trip in the dim light of night. No point in setting up camp when he was only an hour or less away from his goal.
The clanking of metal on metal was the first hint something was wrong, but that could have been night exercise for the trainees. The scream that followed soon after was certainly not part of any training.
Rushing along the path, Hastrel reached the front gate of the fortress. Isran and several of the veteran members of the guard were backed up to the door, but were keeping the attacking vampires at bay at the stairs. The vampires snarled and hissed, but each time one dared approach, Isran's hammer forced them to retreat.
What puzzled Hastrel was why didn't they retreat inside? The doorway would be a much more defensible position than the stairs.
Another scream from the side alerted Hastrel that Isran's group were not the only Dawnguard outside. Following the sound, Hastrel found a second group huddled nearby. There were four in total, three standing behind the fourth, who held what Hastrel assumed was a loaded crossbow on the vampires advancing on them.
There were five, but Hastrel caught sight of them just in time to see the young recruit have her throat torn out by strong vampire jaws. Hastrel thought they were sick and twisted before, but the monsters were actually all but making the trainees watch as they murdered and sucked their friend dry.
So that must be why Isran hadn't retreated. He was trying to reach the cornered recruits. He was doing an abysmal job, but not his fault he was outnumbered three to one.
There had to be at least six of the blood sucking fiends surrounding the trainees. None seemed particularly worried about the weapon pointed at them. Some were even laughing, pretending to take a step closer only to jump back when the holder of the weapon pointed it at them.
The vampires could easily slaughter the whole group, but were having too much enjoyment toying with their food.
Alright, they'd had enough fun.
A sharp whistle was all Hastrel had to do to attract their attention. Six pairs of crimson eyes turned as one to the lone, unarmored or armed, mortal. Some eyed him with curiosity, others with hunger.
"So…" Hastrel rubbed his hands together. "Which one of you has the stones to take on someone who can defend himself?"
The vampires snickered amongst themselves as a single one advanced on Hastrel. They were laughing right up until Hastrel dashed forward, driving an electrically charged fist right through the vampire's stomach and out his back.
The vampires stared on in disbelief, and perhaps a little terror. Hastrel ripped his hand free then wrapped an arm around the vampire's neck and snapped it with an abrupt twist. Probably unnecessary, but better safe than sorry.
Vampires may be immortal, may be tough, but were still susceptible to intimidation and fear.
Shoving the now unmoving corpse away, Hastrel turned to the assembled vampires. "Next?"
The whole group of five came at Hastrel at once, exactly as he had been hoping.
Hastrel took a step back, his hands already moving to cast his spell. The vampires were swift footed, but not enough to reach Hastrel before the lightning storm exploded in their faces. The force behind the bursts of lightning was not enough to actually kill them, but it did throw them all off balance along with some severe damage.
With both hands now free, Hastrel drew his sword and charged. One vampire looked up just as the impossibly sharp dragonbone blade sliced clean through her neck. Hastrel struck down another with a supercharged bolt of lightning as he severed the arm of a third.
The last two attempted to flee, but one was turned to ash by lightning to his back while the other tried to hobble away with a leg wound curtesy of the storm moments before. Hastrel didn't even run to catch up with him, he just walked behind and knocked him down with a kick to his injured leg.
Hastrel drove his sword into its heart as the vampire, rather pathetically, begged for mercy.
Hastrel was going to turn his attention to Isran now that the recruits were moderately safe, but there was no need. Hastrel's brief rampage had been enough of a distraction for Isran's group to slam against the vampires' blindside. It was Hastrel's turn to watch as the Dawnguard slew the last of the creatures.
"You boys and girls alright?" Hastrel checked on the recruits. The only one uninjured was the crossbow wielder. The others were in no condition to fight whatsoever. Two had been beaten bloody and cut up horribly, and were only standing by leaning against their fellow, who was sporting a broken arm.
Hastrel had to admit, he was impressed. They were wounded, but alive. Not many got that luxury when fighting vampires.
"Y… yeah." Agmaer stammered, the crossbow still held up like he was under attack. Hastrel had to gently lower the weapon for him lest he accidentally shoot someone.
Hastrel was going to congratulate Agmaer on not only surviving, but protecting his fellow Dawnguard, but Isran chose that moment to make his presence known. While the other Dawnguard took the recruits to get patched up, Hastrel was left alone to give Isran an update about the mission to Dimhollow.
True, Hastrel could have taken the Elder Scroll, but he didn't. It was easier to blame it on there being too many vampires than to admit he just didn't want to touch the thing. Isran didn't care about Serana either, he just assumed it was the scroll everyone was really after. Serana just happened to be the unfortunate soul stuck carrying it.
Isran didn't mention it with his voice, but his eyes said otherwise. The way the redguard's gaze regularly glanced to the vampires slain by Hastrel betrayed his awe. Isran was obviously a man difficult to impress, but Hastrel had certainly done it.
With complaints of a 'failed' mission out of the way. Hastrel and Isran discussed their next move. They needed to find and recruit some of Isran's former associates. Sorine Jurard and Gunmar. Finding Gunmar wouldn't be so bad from what Isran was saying, but Sorine was going to be a pain.
Just what Hastrel wanted, a hike through the forsworn infested Reach. It was shaping up to be another of those weeks, wasn't it?
One Sorine and Gunmar later, Hastrel once again made the return trip to Fort Dawnguard. At least this time they were not under attack. More fortifications had been erected and more guards posted. The vampires would not be getting the drop on them quite so easily this time.
"In the meantime,." Isran snarled from above, "We're going to get to the bottom of why a vampire showed up here looking for you."
How, Hastrel was unsure, but somehow he just knew that was directed at him. Knowing his luck, some vampire showed up to try to assassinate him in his sleep. That happened before, but this was the first time he wasn't around for the attempted murder.
"Let's go have a little chat with it, shall we?" What? Isran hadn't killed the vampire? He didn't seem to be the type of person to capture vampires, even to interrogate for information. Hastrel would have figured he would just gut anything with red eyes or fangs.
Once out of sight of the rest of the Dawnguard, Hastrel pulled his facemask down and removed his hood. He went to great pains to keep his identity hidden, but Isran, being the actual leader of the Dawnguard, was one of the ones who had to be let in on it. Everyone else would find out eventually, but Hastrel would slay that troll once he got there.
Following Isran led Hastrel to some old torture room. Everything was dusty, the blood that covered everything having long since dried, but Hastrel barely noticed any of that. No, his eyes were locked onto a certain raven haired vampiress.
"You probably weren't expecting to see me again." Serana wore the beginnings of a small smirk, but never moved past that.
It took Hastrel a few heartbeats to comprehend this woman leaning against the wall was in fact real.
"This vampire showed up whole you were away." Isran spat. "I'm guessing it's the one you found in Dimhollow Crypt. Says it's got something really important to say to you." Isran turned to Serana. "So let's hear it."
"What are you doing here?" Hastrel wouldn't have believed Serana was actually here unless he'd seen it with his own eyes. He might need to have a chat with that perimeter guards later, provided Isran hadn't beaten them senseless already.
"I'd rather not be here either." Serana glanced sideways at Isran. "But I needed to talk to you. It's important, so please just listen before your friend, here, loses his patience."
While Isran may be hesitant, Hastrel was already more than ready to listen. Serana came to what was literally the most dangerous place in the world for her kind to tell them something. Much to Hastrel's annoyance, he just knew it was something apocalyptic.
Skyrim, and Tamriel at large, seemed to get quite a bit of those.
"It's…" Serana hesitated. "Well, it's about me. And the Elder Scroll that was buried with me."
"What about you?" Hastrel already knew the scroll probably foretold some catastrophe, but what he did not know was how Serana fit into all this.
"The reason I was down there... and why I had the Elder Scroll. It all comes back to my father. I'm guessing you figured this part out already, but my father's not exactly a good person. Even by vampire standards."
Ah yes, Lord Harkon, the vampire that Hastrel would love nothing more than to strangle with his bare hands, if a vampire could be strangled. He would settle for beating him to a bloody formless pulp. Teach him the penalty of being a bad father.
"He wasn't always like that, though. There was… a turn. He stumbled onto this obscure prophecy and just kind of lost himself in it." Serana explained further.
"What do you mean… "lost himself"?" Hastrel already had an inkling of what Serana spoke of.
"He just became absorbed… obsessed. It was kind of sick, actually. The prophecy said that vampires would no longer need to fear the sun. For someone who fancied himself as vampire royalty, that's pretty seductive."
If vampires were no longer forced back by the sun, they would try to take over Tamriel. The dragons had been no different until they were defeated. Such was the result of ultimate arrogance. There would be one problem if vampires even attempted this, there couldn't possibly be that many vampires without the world knowing. Vampires would not only be smashed back down, but maybe even hunted to extinction.
"Anyway." Serana continued. "My mother and I didn't feel like inviting a war with all of Tamriel, so we tried to stop him." Smart woman Serana's mother. That explains why Serana lacks the sense of entitlement and superiority that Harkon exuded. "That's why I was sealed away with the scroll."
"You took a big risk coming here."
"I did." Serana agreed. "But something about you makes me think I can trust you. I hope I'm not wrong."
"No, you're right. We just have to convince the others you're on our side." Hastrel pinched the bridge of his nose hard. Trying to convince the Dawnguard Serana wasn't the enemy was going to be the equivalent of getting a fire atronach to spit ice. No, that wasn't quite fair, the atronach would be easier to handle.
"Well, let's move then. I'm nothing if not persuasive." If only it was as simple as what Serana said.
"All right, you've heard what it has to say." Isran had been silent so far, now that time was over. Now tell me, is there any reason I shouldn't kill this bloodsucking fiend right now?"
"Because we're going to need her help." Hastrel sighed. Isran was not going to like this one bit.
"Why," Isran practically yelled, "because of that story about the prophecy? About some vampire trying to put the sun out? Do you actually believe any of that?"
"Why else would she risk her life to come here?" Considering Hastrel had already traveled to Sovngarde and slew a god, putting the sun out didn't feel like that big a deal. Another day in Skyrim, another day Hastrel had to save.
"Who knows, maybe it has a death wish. Maybe it's just insane. I don't really care." Isran scowled.
Hastrel almost chuckled. Much as Isran didn't want to admit it, he was in a bind. He needed Hastrel's skill for his cause, so he could not exactly boot Serana out if Hastrel wanted her around.
"It can stay for now, but if it so much as lays a finger on anyone here, I'll hold you responsible. Got it?" Hastrel didn't get to answer before Isran was growling to Serana. "You hear me? Don't feel like a guest, because you're not. You're a resource, you're an asset. In the meantime, don't make me regret my sudden outburst of tolerance and generosity because if you do, your friend here is going to pay for it."
"Thank you for your kindness." If a voice could embody sarcasm, this was it. "I'll remember it the next time I'm feeling hungry."
Hastrel rolled his eyes. Serana just couldn't resist the barb.
"So, in case you didn't notice the giant thing on my back, I have the Elder Scroll with me." Serana motioned to her shoulder.
Hastrel felt like kicking himself. He honestly hadn't noticed it. Too absorbed in trying make sure vampire and Dawnguard didn't attack one another.
Regardless, what few doubt about Serana's loyalty flew right out the window with this revelation. If Harkon had sent Serana to infiltrate them, he would not have risked letting the scroll out of his castle. If anything, it was a miracle Serana had managed to abscond with it.
"Whatever it says, it will have something that can help us stop my father." Serana frowned. "But of course, neither of us can read it."
"Who can?"
"Well, the Moth Priests are the only ones I've heard of who can do it. They spend years preparing before they start a reading, though. Not that it helps us anyway, because they're half a continent away in Cyrodiil." Not to mention Hastrel would have to convince them to actually help.
"Some imperial scholar arrived in Skyrim a few days ago." Isran supplied. "I was staking out the road when I saw him pass by. Maybe that's your Moth Priest."
"Do you know where he's staying now?" Serana asked.
"No, and I'm not going to waste men looking. We're fighting a war against your kind, and I intend to win it." Isran grumbled. "You want to find him, try talking to anyone who'd meet a traveler. Innkeepers and carriage drivers in the big cities maybe. But you're on your own."
Oh well, Hastrel didn't think their luck was that good anyway. Still though, a lead was a lead.
"Any idea how you're going to find a Moth Priest? Skyrim's a pretty big place." Serana did have a point.
"Do you have any ideas?" Hastrel was accustomed to being the one to make all the decisions, but that didn't mean he didn't mind input.
Well, back before I… you know." Serana's countenance darkened for a moment. "The College of Winterhold was the first place I'd think to go for any kind of magic or historical thing. The wizards know about all kinds of things that people probably shouldn't about."
The College of Winterhold, well, Hastrel was overdue for his regular visit. At the very least he should check on how Tolfdir is running the place. Wouldn't hurt to see how the place was taking the new change in leadership.
"Actually, now that I think of it…" Serana seemed to hesitate. "I'm going to come along with you. I've been really wanting to get out and explore a bit." She didn't have to say it, Serana would not be welcome whatsoever in Fort Dawnguard. Better she sticks with Hastrel for everyone's sake.
"Okay, but I just got here and would like to at least eat something before we leave. Come on." Hastrel started to walk away, assuming Serana was following, but stopped when the vampiress asked him to wait.
When Hastrel looked back, he found Serana had taken a step away from the wall but her wrist was shackled to a nearby stone bench.
At Hastrel's look, Serana shrugged. "They insisted, made them feel better I guess."
Hastrel was going to ask Isran for the key, but Serana simply swatted the chain with her hand. The metal links breaking instantly. The shackle itself she just peeled off like it was flimsy leather instead of metal.
The broken chain and shackle were then dumped unceremoniously into Isran's hand. The redguard stared at the item as if it was burning his hand but couldn't let go, his eyes a strange combination of disbelief and anger.
"Your 'silver chains' are shoddy polished steel." Serana wore a triumphant smirk as she left the torture room, a mild spring in her step at getting the last laugh.
Let me know what you all think.
One other thing, I'm all too happy to hear suggestions on any kind of scenes you would all like to see. Especially since I'm no longer following Dawnguard, the sky, and by extension Oblivion, is the limit.