author's notes: A kind review at last! Thank you so much DevilBountyHunter1. I'll continue with "The horror of Northwatch Keep" and make Miss Scale journey to Rifton. She did want to join the Dawnguard to help Thorald Grey-Mane out. And yes: TES V: Skyrim is intellectual property of Bethesda Software. I'm just spinning my own non-profit tale. Merry Christmas and a happy New Year be to all of you. But now on with the story!

Chapter 2: Miss Scale goes to Rifton

Miss Scale was more than happy to leave Solitude. Not that it was an ugly or unpleasant city – far from it. But she still had her grand plan in mind: to join the Dawnguard. To boldly go where no lizard has ever gone before, blather, blather, blather… She had handed her letter for Mrs. Grey-Mane over to the courier along with a bigger pay. But then, the smallfolk of Solitude kept bothering her with petty tasks: Noster Eagle-Eye, the local beggar, wanted his helmet returned *sigh*, bullying Vittoria Vici into releasing a precious cargo-load of spices for Evette San (Miss Scale couldn't possibly afford to take over the tax-debt of 2 000 septims!), and that ridiculous request of Drevlin's. "No by the Hissst, pleassse keep that ssstinking hip-bone. I don't want any part in thisss." Miss Scale had whined.

But now, she happily dusted off her hands and rented a carriage-ride to Rifton. 20 septims was not too costly for a bit of comfort. During the ride, she practiced harmless, easy spells. Miss Scale was an aspiring spell-sword. It was such a long ride via Dragonbridge with a stay at the Four-Shields-Inn, Rorikstead had the Frostfruit Inn, they gave Whiterun a wide berth but stopped at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood. The carriage toiled up into the mountains, past Helgen to the pass-road of Haemar's Disgrace. The carriage driver and Miss Scale were both weary of that place. Haemar's Disgrace Cave had an ill reputation. It was said to be crawling with vampires. Yuck! As soon as they were in the lowlands again, the Rift spread out before them. Miss Scale sniffed the mild air. It smelled of honey, flowers, mushrooms and unluckily bears and other rancid predators. And there were birch-trees, lots of birch-trees, gourd-pumpkins too. A few times, they were bothered by the local wildlife. But Miss Scale singed a few holes in a few pelts and the critters scampered off, yelping and howling. They passed Ivarstead without a visit and rode on the Lake-Honrich-Scenic-Road (as I dubbed it). The poor draught horse was huffing and wheezing when they finally reached Rifton's gates.

It was already late at night and Miss Scale wanted nothing more than to hit the pillow at the Bee & Barb Inn. Buuut there was this greedy guardsman. He rambled about a "visitor's tax" of 100 septims. Well, Miss Scale would have none of it. She hissed: "Now that isss blatant black-mailing if I ever ssssaw it! I haven't got one drake to ssspend for the likesss of you. Ssso jussst open the dratted gate for me, will you?" And the guardsman hastily obeyed.

The Bee & Barb Inn was a multi-storied building in the centre of Rifton, right next to the market place. Miss Scale wasn't overly fond of Rifton but she liked the Bee & Barb. It was owned by a couple of fellow Argonians, Talen-Jei and Keerava. The bar-room was the meeting place for a greater part of Rifton's population. Well there was another… *err* "establishment". That was Helga's bunkhouse. But it was only meant for the workers who couldn't afford an apartment or a whole house of their own. Besides Helga was a Dibella-fanatic slut who even pleasured married men and had up to three lovers per month.

So the Bee & Barb was just fine. Sometimes you had to shut out the ranting sermons of Maranal the priest. But Talen-Jei had pretty good liquor in store. His specialities were three different cocktails. He had tried out the recipes in his bartender days in the town of Gideon. Miss Scale bought the ladies' cocktail: a whole tankard of "Whitegold Tower". It was a concoction of mead, sweet cream, honey and dragon-tongue-orchid. Delicious! When the tankard was emptied, Miss Scale paid 10 septims for a room and slept through the rest of the night.

The next day, she left Rifton and hit the road in direction to the Morrowind border. She had heard stories of Castle Dawnguard being situated in a remote canyon. On her way, Miss Scale was attacked by frostbite spiders, wolves and other annoying critters. But she defended her hide with frost spells and a blade. Dead wolves could be skinned and dead frostbite spiders could be harvested for venom. That was a tad bit disgusting but oh well… She walked along the cobbled road until she came to a gap in the mountains left of her. That dark gap was marked by burning braziers. Miss Scale went through the tunnel and came to an idyllic valley. A snowy path spread out in front of her, there were snowberry bushes and running deer. Later on, she came to a frigid pond with salmon to catch and some mudcrabs to kill. And she met a nice young man named Angmaer. He was a wannabe recruit like her. Together, they followed the winding path. Angmaer walked on ahead while Miss Scale kept exploring the valley. There was another dark and foreboding cave in a remote corner. She entered but hastily backed out again. A snarling bear launched itself at her! Miss Scale wracked her brain for a soothing charm but couldn't remember having learned one.

She had to fight the bear with her trusty steel blade and the frostbite spell. The icy breeze made the bear tired and clumsy. Thus it was easier to slash and stab. But Miss Scale also received some scratches, deep nasty gouges in her scaly skin. "Ow, ow damn beassst! Youssa be only good for trophy, yesss indeed." Finally, she wedged her blade in under the bear's chin and pushed with all her might. Snarls turned to moans and gurgles and there was a whole stream of blood running over her hands. Then, the sword was wrenched out of her hands by several kilos of dead meat too many. Sighing, Miss Scale bent down and pulled her blade out again. She wiped the blade and her hands clean as best as she could. She uncorked a healing potion and downed the liquid. Then, she continued on her way. The path made several bends and soon a castle appeared. A huge castle indeed! It was surrounded by palisades and lookouts. In a kind of secluded shooting range, she met an elderly Orsimer. His name was Durak and he was one of the Dawnguard's recruiting officers. He had lost several wives to vampire attacks and that sad experience had filled him with a thirst for revenge and made him join the Dawnguard. So there he stood, singing praises to his crossbow. Yes, obviously the Dawnguard owned crossbows – a rare privilege in Skyrim where even the elves hadn't gotten past bows of whatever kind. "I want to enlissst to the Dawnguard", Miss Scale said. "Thisss crossbow looksss jussst sso impressive. I want my own." Durak chuckled and replied: "Hah, you'll get your own soon enough. Just enter the castle and talk to Isran, our leader. He's a burly, ill-tempered Redguard with a bald head and long beard. But he's always eager to get to know new members."

So Miss Scale followed the last bit of the path towards grand stairs and an even greater gate. The main building was surrounded by little towers, or rather mighty pillars. The castle was connected to them by walkways on top of star-shaped walls. It looked so very impressive and defiant. Miss Scale tore her gaze away and entered through the main gate. She stepped into a circular hall. The roof was a huge dome that had a hole to the sky in the topmost centre. A little further down, there was a sort of balcony running round the first floor. The ground floor held some crates and two men who were arguing. There was a man in the robes of Stendarr's Vigil. His name was Tolan. And there was Isran, a Redguard who wore a sturdy, knee-long, heavy leather armour studded with…well iron studs, lots of iron studs. And Miss Scale noticed that Isran spoke with a funny accent. At the moment, a steaming Isran was – in so many words – calling the order of Stendarr's Vigil useless and weak. And Tolan whined about the Hall of Vigilance having been destroyed and that Keeper Carcette had been killed. The Dawnguard and the Vigil of Stendarr: two orders that obviously had dedicated themselves to the extinction of vampires – but who didn't get along at all! Miss Scale thought it a shame in her humble opinion.

Tolan started a report about an eerie cave named Dimhollow Crypt, a vampire hideout and ancient vampire artefacts. But Isran had noticed Miss Scale and held up a hand to stop Tolan's rambling. "Well who might you be?" he asked none to friendly.

"I am Misss Ssscale, an argonian adventurer. I have a kind of a problem. I ssshould have sssaved the ssson of a mighty Whiterun family. Torald Greymane, he wasss detained at Northwatch Keep. But when I got there, vampiresss had already ranssacked the place. No living sssoul remained within the whole fort. I fear the worst for poor Torald Greymane. If the vampiresss kept him alive, he mussst be somewhere terrible, rotten, no-good. Messsa need help to find that place and bussst him out, ssssir."

Isran frowned and replied: "First of all: Do I look like a sir to you?" Miss Scale wisely shook her head. "Good. Now to your request: I'm afraid, I just can't go gallivanting out into the blue. You don't know where that vampire hideout is. You don't know how many blood suckers live there. Right?"

"That is woefully correct s… Isran." Miss Scale said. "I also wanted to join the Dawnguard to get thisss flassshy crossbow."

"You just don't join the Dawnguard with your only reason being a long-range weapon, however formidable! Show some real dedication here. Maybe you can help Vigilant Tolan out? Talk to him. And if you so dearly want that criffing crossbow, take one from the crates over there. Bolts should be somewhere nearby. Welcome to the gang!" Isran lectured her.

"Thanksss." the Argonian said. "May I look around first?" Isran waved his hand in a go-ahead-gesture. So Miss Scale wandered the ground floor. She took a crossbow and bolts from the crates. There also was a dining area, a forge, several kennels and pens, two armoured huskies and a dormitory with several camp beds.

She returned to the circular entrance hall where Angmear was under heavy scrutiny of Isran. Angmear had just been asked, if he had any experience with weapons. He had mumbled something about his father's axe. Isran threw back his head and burst into a bout of derisive laughter. "Good gracious 'his father's axe'! Now listen to that. You'll need something better to fight vampires and survive." So Angmear was shown the 101 of crossbow-shooting.

Meanwhile Miss Scale talked to Vigilant Tolan. "Isran said that you needed help?" Tolan answered her: "Yes indeed. Lately, a friend of mine has been doing research in an old haunted crypt near Mehrunes Dagon's shrine. It's called Dimhollow Crypt and my friend's name is Adalvald, Brother Adalvald if you want to be thorough. Poor guy, he was almost obsessed with vampire artefacts. And he assumed that such an ancient artefact was hidden in Dimhollow Crypt. But I haven't heard from Adalvald for quite some time. I fear something has gone wrong. Could you look into this affair, Miss Scale?"

"Yesss, I can. But not right now. It'sss been a long day for an argonian adventurer. Ssso excussse me when I hit the pillow now." Miss Scale said.

"Of course." Tolan replied. "I'll go ahead of you and wait for you in the entrance cave to Dimhollow Crypt. See you." And with that, he was gone, gone forever. But that's another tale.

Miss Scale searched herself an empty, fur-covered camp bed and slept the night away.