OK, so I will be completly honest. I have had some serious stuff go on in my life, and with the addition of being at the end of Senior year, I havent had the time or energy to continue writing my stories. However, I am back and am here for a bit. I will work on The General, and this story, but I will focus on skyrim for a time.
Yours in writing, -Cloaked Writter
~Loredas, 20th of Morning Star, Falkreath, 4E 203~
Serana inhaled the frozen night air of Falkreath Hold, her resolve hardening as she let out her breath quietly and without steam.
She had her message, and knew her orders as given to her by Dominus, but convincing the thin-bloods to let her in their lair would take some serious precautions, or incredible diplomacy. Her hand drifted to the Elven War-Axe gifted to Serana by her Lord during their travel through the Hidden Vale. If words and charm failed, her axe would need cleaning in the morning.
The Thrall was a common bandit, dressed in furs and sporting both a heavy beard and tanned skin, suggesting heavy time spent in the sun. At his hip stood a petty iron sword, the weapon seemingly intended more to threaten potential intruders or treasure hunters then to fight.
Their lair was some nameless and forgotten crypt, yet it was clearly marked within the whispered words of the Court and of the Mortal Taverns as a lair of thin-bloods, spawned from the victims of careless Lords of the past and their ravenous feeding.
The Thrall managed to pull her from her musings and back into Skyrim when he noticed the vampire.
"Hey! Piss off!" The Thrall shouted, drawing his weapon and positioning himself in a hostile stance.
"I am here to speak to your master, Thrall. Go and fetch them for me." she said loudly. His eyes narrowed at the mention of his master, before rushing forward with a battlecry.
Serana sighed, opening her palm and readying a lightning bolt. She had hoped to avoid violence, but it was understandable; anyone who knew of their presence would undoubtedly be a threat, at least that would be the reasoning of the simple mind of a Thrall.
With hardly an afterthought the Daughter of Coldharbour released her bolt of lightning, slaying the Nord and sending him flying back into the decayed stone wall. Hopefully the next set of defences will be more reasonable she hoped.
The door opened with a loud creak, the sunlight providing scant light to the foul crypt. However, her natural abilities of night vision allowed her to see all she needed to.
The passage continued in a large hallway that was raised with the natural curvature of the earth and burrowed deeper into the mountain into a likely inner sanctum. A small room, or cell of sorts, broke away from the main passage and into a circular chamber of small alcoves filled with old and brittle skeletons. However, in a small yet comfortable coffin, lay a vampire.
She was of of the Altmer, wearing faded vampire robes of a greyish hue, and slumbering peacefully in a dreameless sleep.
Serana was careful to lift her small Elven dagger from the woman's waist, and with her fellow undead disarmed, she knocked loudly on the lid of the coffin; leaning carefully on the side of the casket.
Her eyes opened sharply, the amber glow burning with hatred and fear. She sat up with a hiss and locked eyes on Serana, baring her teeth to the intruder.
"Stay your teeth, Sister. I am a friend."
She hesitated, noticing her amber eyes and pale skin, yet not completely relaxing.
"You are one of the night, yet you wear the cape and armor of Volkihar. Why do you come, My Lady?" She inquired mockingly.
"I come with a message for your Master, or whoever leads this Coven. An invitation to Castle Volkihar for a banquet."
She arched an eyebrow.
"Truly? I didn't think Harkon had it in him."
"Harkon is dead. A new Lord has ascended to the mantel, and he is of a different mindset."
"I see. Follow me, I will take you to Master Fulo."
~Loredas, 3rd of Sun's Dawn, Castle Volkihar, Coast of Skyrim, 4E 203~
Lord Dominus sat upon his throne, clad in all of his finery while the lute music drifted down from the upper balcony of the library, the party in full swing. Dressed in the Volkihar robes, yet accented with Bonemold and Elven metals instead of the conventional steel plates and pauldrons, drumming his golden talloned gloves against the long cudgel laid across his lap.
While most preferred a blade or axe, the long thing stick made of carefully wrought ebony, with golden bands accenting the ends was all he needed. The weapon both confused his enemies, offered him a regal aura, and gave him greater reach for slaying his foes.
Of all of the Masters of the Covens he had sent for, only nine arrived. Some he knew put up a fight, others had allowed his emissaries entry then flat out refused their invitations.
By some trick of fate, or a gift by Molag Bal himself, the vampires were all inhabitants from each of the nine holds.
In honor of the guests, cattle were given free reign of the banquet hall; some carrying platters upon which goblets filled to the brim with their own blood sloshed with that crimson nectar, others simply sat against the walls in a daze, sometimes being grasped by a wandering vampire and being drunk from.
Dominus eyed the rafters, and to his plan B. Drumming his fingers across the cudgel, he hoped that he did not need to use it.
"The crossbows are ready, aren't they, Garan?"
"Yes, My Lord. They have also been set up to the sensitive plate at the base of the throne."
"Good. Then it is time to begin."
Lifting the weapon into the air, he brought it down with a resounding metallic clunk. All conversation ceased, and the current members of the court made their way to the edges of the room, leaning against the walls with their arms folded, or else sipping on a goblet of blood.
"Honored guests, please stand before the throne." Dominus declared.
The vampires complied, holding guarded expressions as they stood in a small gaggle in the center of the room.
"Fellow hunters of the night. You are wise enough to know I did not simply invite you here to sip upon the blood of mortals. You have incredible power, and incredible potential. I ask of you all to kneel, and join this Court."
Dominus smiled at the sharp intake of breath from his advisor. Of all the things of a Lord to do, this was new.
Much to his glee, several of the masters knelt. Six of the nine fell to one knee and bowed their heads, while the others let out dark laughs and ranted of the folly of inviting them to this gathering.
Before they had the time to finish, Dominus activated the plate.
Crossbows, stolen from The Dawnguard and loaded with silver bolts had been aimed down towards the vampires from the rafters earlier in the afternoon. A flurry of silver passed through the heads of the offensive vampires and left their corpses truly dead upon the flagstones.
A stunned silence filled the air, the members of the court likely unsure what to think of the carnage. Dominus knew that some wished that there had been more blood, while others simply pitied the traitorous lions.
"Loyalty is rewarded with prizes and gifts. Betrayal is punished with a thousand fates worse than the swift death that these petty beings were given."
He brought down his heavy weapon once again.
"Vingalmo! Take these to the library and study their lineage, to see if they are able to receive the ultimate gift. Report back to me with your results."
He clapped his hands together, and the cattle set down their serving platters and set about to drag away the corpses.
"Well done, Lord." Garan said quietly in Dominus's ear.
"What shall you do with your new pawns?"
"They will be tasked with thinning the pack. They will return to their covens and slaughter each and every member of their bands, before moving on and destroying the final three Master's followers. I have some menial tasks for them to perform as well, and a simple job that will prove crucial to the next steps of my plan."
Garan was silent for a moment, before speaking again in a whisper.
"When shall I become enlightened of your plan, My Lord? I must admit, I am quite eager to hear it."
"Soon, Brother, soon." Dominus said quietly.
"After the thin bloods in Skyrim are extinct and the tasks for our new lackies are complete, then my plan shall be revealed to all. And when that day comes, it will be far, far too late for Nirn to resist."
Ok this is now done. I will be working on this some more, and hopefully get this finished. Cloaked Writer out.
