We left first thing in the morning, rising and dressing ourselves as the sun made its presence known by the greying of dawn. Clad in our armour, pouches, packs and weaponry the two of us set off, bidding Jauffre and the monks of the Priory goodbye and travelling south. All major roads and tracks to the southern colovian cities first headed east towards the city, before looping around the outskirts of the great forest in a south-easterly direction rather than brave its depths. Stories of the great dark forest were plentiful, and even stories of entire legions vanishing in the greenery were not unheard of. While not entirely civilised or even remotely tamed it was not impassable. Tiny hamlets of woodsmen and hunters eked a living within the forests depths and to the experienced it was not somewhere to be entirely feared. Respected and wary of yes, but not feared like most of those who lived in the Great Forest's shadow. We would travel due south west, cutting through the heart of the forest to where the rolling hills and deserts of Hammerfell met the Gold Coast and the fertile floodplains of County Skingrad; a three-day journey on foot compared to eight days by road.
My feet were wrapped in in a uniform layer of rags, stuffed tightly into my boots which meant no slippage or rubbing while I marched; a trick long since permanently ingrained into my mind from countless patrols. Having the thick leather boots being a little on the large side helped as it allowed for the eventual and inescapable swelling after the first few kilometres. Viconia had listened well to my advice and had done similar preparations despite her outwards appearance of disdain and lack of interest. While obviously not suited for such lengthy exertions she kept up the pace, never wavering or hesitating and stoically chewing through the kilometres as though pain was simply something that happened to other people.
After her display with my bow the previous day, and what I had seen of her the week we had been together, I now knew full well not to underestimate this beautiful elf. While she only stood up to my nose in height and would've only weighed half of my mass if fully dressed, armoured and carrying her pack loaded to the brim I knew that any fight between the two of us would not be an even fight. If I had been prone to gambling I wouldn't have put a wooden septim against my chances of surviving anything with her as my opponent.
Our progress was good however, easily making our way through the forest despite the places where the greenery hemmed in a little too close and we were forced to find other paths around thickets and dense shrubbery. All the while I kept my eyes roving around us, watching and ensuring that nothing was going to approach or ambush us. Cyrodiil may have been the heart of the Empire and home to men and mer for millennia but it was far from tamed. Wolves and bears prowled the forest and were some of the lesser threats to be concerned with unless it was winter and hunger drove them closer to civilisation. Minotaurs were still a danger, as were ogres, land dreugh, and other assorted beasts of the wilds. On the eastern portions of the forest goblin tribes were ever encroaching as they migrated from the depths of Blackmarsh and generally made nuisances of themselves. With all these threats in mind and as Chorrol and the other hamlets faded into the distance my bow found itself strung and in my hands more often than not.
Viconia travelled mostly in silence through the journey, keeping to herself and keeping up with my pace. I noticed how she too constantly kept an eye on her surroundings, hand resting on the hilt of her sword while moving with a sublime grace that I had no hope of matching. Her movements were more pronounced than mine however. At every sound within the forest, whether it be the far off howl of a wolf pack, or the sudden flutter of wings as some bird flew aloft at our intrusion her head would dart in its direction, fist tightening on the hilt of her sword and eyes darting about for the threat. Eventually I managed to make her relax somewhat mostly just with my mere presence and lack of fear to the situation and we actually found ourselves in a stilted form of conversation from time to time. I learned that she had never been outside of County Bruma before and after having grown accustomed to the towering mountains and sheer cliffs of Bruma and the Pale Pass she expected everywhere to be the same. Now, trapped in the enclosing depths of green and under the roof of towering Redwoods she admitted feeling more at home where she could no longer see the sky, and feel the heat of the sun upon her flesh.
As the day wore on I found myself growing unaccustomedly fatigued. The gnawing sensation in the back of my mind of a thirst that could not be quenched was making its presence known with far greater force each passing day. I found myself consistently parched, throat strangely dry in the late winter humidity of the forest that the mouthfuls of brackish water from the skins did little to subside. It was at this point that I knew that something was terribly wrong, a worming fear growing stronger in my gut. This sensation only grew more pronounced after walking through a tiny clearing in the forest in the middle of the day and feeling a strange tingling and burning sensation over my exposed flesh.
The beast that had fed upon me had passed along its curse, and for hours I pondered my fate in silence. As we continued moving I tried to understand how the disease had managed to survive the medicinal herbs. The Mandrake root alone should've been a powerful enough to annihilate any trace of the blood plague but deep in the back of my mind I knew that I was doomed.
Making camp in the depths of the forest for the first evening it was uneventful despite my increasingly poor sleep. The cravings were growing stronger exponentially now and my dreams were now nightmares of wanton excess and hedonistic gratification coloured in shades of red. Being so deep in the forest and the threat of danger being high Viconia agreed with my suggestion for the both of us to sleep in shifts. Taking the dusk to midnight shift I sat uneasily near the fire, staring into its swirling mass and the twisting shapes it projected as it consumed the wood. I was hunched over, left leg crossed while leaning on my bent right knee idly poking the fire with the tip of my sword. The desire for blood was growing ever more insistent until it was almost a deafening roar in my mind, drowning out all other thoughts as I struggled to comprehend how it had happened.
It was as I poked the fire, sword gripped in the tightened ball of my right fist that I looked up the length of my bare forearm. Looking past the fresh burns that were beginning to seal properly with my magicka I saw the faintly visible streaks of an older set of injuries from the month previous. Suddenly I knew. In the mad scrabble in the darkness of that cave the beast had clawed its way down my arm as I vainly attempted to fend it off. Jaw locked open wide, incisors buried into the flesh of my throat like burning needles of agony I had struggled vainly at first, pulling my knife with my left hand while my right desperately tried to haul the creature off me. In the seconds it took to plunge the dagger to the hilt repeatedly in the creature's withered chest it's lukewarm blood; now a mixture of its tainted liquids and my blood had sprayed all over me. It had coated my chest but it had more importantly coated me up to the elbows, covering my fresh scratches and creating a crack in my body's defences for the curse to whittle away at over the coming weeks.
Not all the magicka in the world could save me from what I was becoming, and I knew that it was only a matter of time until I gave in to the vampiric curse. As soon as I fed I knew that I would be eternally damned but I had no idea what to do. Suicide was an option, but despite the darkness threatening to overwhelm me it was not something I could bring myself to do. Dying in battle would be my preferred choice if it came down to it. A storm of adrenaline, a flash of pain and then darkness would be a better alternative to an existence cursed as one of the undead.
My fresh burns brought the image of how expressionless Viconia had been as she applied the burning sword tip to my arm. Could I rely on her to put me down when the time came? Undoubtedly so I decided with little thought. She'd cut the head from my shoulders and walk away with a clear conscience before I'd be able to finish asking her. If she thought I was a threat to her in the slightest then my head would have already been rolling on the ground for quite some time already.
I looked over her prone form, huddled next to the fire and laying on her side facing towards me. Still fully clothed and mostly wrapped in her cloak and hood she lay with her pack under her head for a pillow, face illuminated by the crackling campfire and framed by the loose strands of hair protruding from the hood. In sleep she seemed peaceful enough, the habitual scowl that seemed permanently engrained into her features relaxing enough that her true beauty was obvious. High cheekbones, perfectly unblemished skin the colour of polished ebony, hair while gradually becoming more and more tangled as we travelled still seemed to remain straight and flow as she moved. Laying there peacefully, one hand tucked under her pack for support, the other resting lightly on her curvaceous hips she was serene and tantalisingly beautiful.
But my attraction to her was growing darker with every passing hour. I found myself unintentionally staring, eyes gazing up over the tiny strips of flesh that were not covered by the cloak, hood or armour. While little was visible beside a single collarbone, neck and face it was enough that I could easily see the slight depression where her smooth skin of her neck reached her shoulders. In sleep, and even with her light breathing the rise and fall of her chest revealed the vein running under her skin from collarbone to jaw.
Time seemed to compress and my sight narrowed to that spot of flawless skin, where the throb of her heart made the tiniest of movements in her throat. My mouth was suddenly drier than an Elsweyr desert as I subconsciously felt the dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum of her heart in the pit of my stomach. Eye twitching, fingers clenching tighter around the hilt of my sword until I felt my knuckles creak I fought back the overwhelming urge to leap upon her, press my mouth to her neck and bite…
The glint from under her hood caught my attention and my attention snapped back into reality as I realised that her eyes were open. Like a deer instinctively sensing the eyes of a wolf upon it, she had woken from her light slumber and now looked accusingly into my eyes with anger shining behind them.
"See something you desire?" she said softly, voice equal parts alluring and dangerous. Seemingly of her own accord her hand ran lightly down the toned flesh of her neck and chest that was visible under her clothes.
My breath caught and I suddenly felt as though my heart had indeed ceased beating. For a moment I sat perfectly still, as though carved from granite before her face twisted into the all-too familiar expression of feral hatred. Her lips, peeling back from white teeth that gleamed in the darkness formed a snarl at me like a starving lioness.
"You will know your place Jaluk." She hissed threateningly. "Now avert your eyes elsewhere lest I do it for you!"
I looked away, blood rushing to my face in a bloom of heat and the bloodlust fading with it. She rolled over into a sitting position, flicking the few wayward strands of hair out of her face and glaring at me as though she sought to stop my heart beating with a look alone. "You best get some sleep while you can, for I doubt that I will gain any further rest with you feasting your eyes on me."
Attempting to murmur a poor excuse of an apology that was stopped before it escaped my lips by her thunderous expression, I lay down with my back to the fire and her and struggled to snatch some fitful hours of sleep. Between the guilt of being caught looking at her, and the hellish cravings that staring at her had awoken within me I woke up even more fatigued and drained than before. My time was running out quickly and I knew it would not be long before I lost myself wholly to the growing bloodlust.
Once again we awoke at dawn, dressing and shouldering our packs for the day ahead. This time we travelled a little more swiftly, both emboldened about the fact that we were reaching the half way point on our journey and that my growing desire for blood was driving me ever onwards voraciously. By the time the sun reached its zenith I was constantly clawing at myself mentally, using every trick and skill to avert my mind from the overwhelming desire for blood and the growing perception of Viconia's heart beating no more than a dozen paces away. While I hoped that it was nothing more than hallucination somehow I knew that it was most definitely not. I could feel her heart beating, a rhythmic tattoo that beat against the barriers of my mind like the sea eroding an ancient coastal fortress. It was only the sudden sighting of a small herd of deer in a thinning part of the forest that broke through to my diseased mind.
Running purely on instinct I motioned for Viconia to stay where she was, watching with pleasant surprise how she slowly lowered herself down below the height of the shrubs as not to alert the herd of our presence. I carefully began to pick my way carefully through the vegetation, pulling the string loops over the horn-tips at the end of its limbs. One of the deep-tanged broadhead arrows slotted into the string, the fingertips of my right hand gripping the arrow with thumb pinching it tight. Carefully stepping through the shrubs and leaf litter I ensured that not a single sound from my passage or my equipment was made to startle the deer away. The forest was almost entirely silent to outsiders, but as I stealthily advanced forward I could hear the wind in the trees, the birds resting on their high branches and the soft sounds of smaller creatures in the undergrowth. Moving ever closer to the deer I kept my eyes away from them, looking only through my peripheral vison to ensure that they didn't spook from the sensation of being gazed upon like Viconia had the night before.
Within 80 paces I stopped, gazing indirectly at the small herd and picking my target. Carefully and slowly, moving in time with the swaying bushes as the wind plucked at them I raised my bow and controlling my breathing. Completely ignoring the protests of my wounded arm I drew back to the ear, holding it steady and aiming not with my eyes but with my mind as I willed the arrow into its target.
The slap of the bowstring against the leather bracer protecting my left forearm and wrist was the first audible sound I had made. The arrow flew through the air, straight and true and punched into the side of one of the younger does. With a clean hit through the lungs it dropped with barely a sound and the others stopped in mid motion before bolting away into the undergrowth. I watched for a moment, nocking another arrow if in case against all odds my quarry managed to rise with a such a wound and try to escape. Supremely confident that it wouldn't be rising with such an injury I stood to my height and hurriedly made my way over to it to see the results of my handiwork.
The doe was wounded but not quite dead. The arrow had punched cleanly into its side, the design of the arrow head slicing arteries and veins and cutting through its skin with almost no resistance. I may have missed the heart but the wicked nature of the arrow meant that it would soon bleed out.
But I stopped in my tracks at the sight of the arrow lodged deep into it's flesh. Blood, bright red and arterial pulsed from around the shaft protruding from its hide and I found my gaze locked upon the ruby flow. Sickeningly the deer tried to get up and move, pitifully incapable and with flecks of blood puffing into the air with every laborious breath. I moved purely by instinct, my skinning dagger finding its way into my hand without conscious thought and kneeing over the dying animal.
The dagger pressed into its throat, slicing deeply and with little resistance cutting the major neck artery in a wash of blood. For what seemed to be an age as time slowed to a crawl I found myself staring, watching as the animal went about bleeding to death from the mortal wound. The desire to drink was overpowering, the smell of the liquid permeating the air and constricting my throat and lungs with its fragrance and before I could even think to stop myself I had hunched over the creature's prone form and fastened my lips around the gushing wound.
Warm liquid welled into my mouth and throat and I drunk as though a man dying of thirst coming across an oasis. The blood jetted into the back of my throat and I could hear an animalistic groan rumble from deep within my ribcage as I sucked away, teeth sinking into the warm deer flesh as I sought to gain greater purchase on its neck. It struggled fitfully at the intrusion, kicking feebly as all strength was leached away before its heart finally stopped beating.
With the sudden lack of movement from the deer whatever hold my unnatural desires had over me vanished, and I found myself spiting a wad of hot blood out onto the ferns nearby, desperately trying to rid myself of the taste and the self-loathing. While strangely, sickeningly satisfying it was nowhere near what my body truly desired but instead serving as though a few drops of wine to the lips of a drunkard. It was enough to satiate me for the short term, but I knew that it wouldn't keep the darkness at bay for long.
Quickly cutting into the deer while it was still warm and supple, I carved several large pieces of flesh away. A couple of kilograms of steaming deer flesh was soon attached to the pair of hooks attached to my pack for this very purpose, the cooling essence of life dripping onto the forest floor in shining streams. Swigging from my water-skins I washed as much of the blood out of my mouth until the tang had gone and I was satisfied that my teeth were no longer stained pink. Conflicting emotions wrestled for control within me as I stood and made my way back to Viconia, but there was no denying the overwhelming need for more…
That night we feasted on venison. Viconia seemed to thoroughly enjoy the taste as she ravenously devoured her roasted meal, white teeth gleaming and uncomfortably reminding me of how I had killed the animal. Like most of the day we sat in silence, both seemingly looking everywhere else except at each other but there were at least the first signs of initial trust growing between us. At least as far as me not waking up with a cut throat or being set on fire, and so far she hadn't had to contend with me attempting to force myself on her while she slept. We were still undoubtedly wary around each other, but not so much as worrying about going to sleep or turning our backs to the other.
The camp we had made was on the outer edge of the Great Forest, giving a clear view across the rolling hills and rocky plateus of the southern highlands. There in the distance a rise of rock dominated the land, raising the construction of stone and brick upon it above the surrounding fields and farms. Our destination was still almost a full day's journey away but even from this distance the sight of the city of Kvatch was almost humbling, giving us strength for the last hours of marching.
"Did that guard tell you why I was locked away?" Viconia said, wiping the fat of her meal away on the corner of her cloak.
"You murdered a farmer and his son."
My reply seemed to satisfy her for a moment, and her gaze hardened at the memory. "When I awoke to find myself in this living hell I had truly expected to be dead." She began, not looking at anything in particular and idly drumming her fingers on the hilt of a knife.
"The first time the sun rose I found myself in agony, skin blistering and peeling as I sprinted like an animal in search for shelter. Only pure luck allowed me to stumble into a cave. It was more a cleft in the side of a hill than anything but it was shelter enough, at least for the first days until I regained enough strength to venture outside."
"I will admit, I do not have your skill in hunting the beasts of this land but I managed to find berries that weren't deadly, and use my own skills in the search for meat." She looked at me with her strangely glowing yellow eyes, holding a deceptively dainty hand up for me to see it suddenly begin glowing as blue curls of lightning began to coil around he fingers like smoke. The mild electric discharge set my teeth on edge until she made the tiniest of gestures and it faded into nothingness. "The nights of freezing cold, and the days of flesh scalding light kept me hidden in that tiny hollow for days until I felt strong enough to brave the day. I would forage for berries and other edibles in a world where everything was strange and dangerous, using nothing more than my own skill with magicka to protect from the beasts prowling the rocky hills that threatened me and hunting those that did not. It was weeks until I saw another person, and almost just as long before I allowed them to know of my presence."
Her gazed shifted almost imperceptibly, brow furrowing ever so deeper and she paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. "In the Underdark, treachery is the normal course of events, the end to which all paths eventually lead. After weeks of interacting, of mild trade and discourse between us when the betrayal finally came it was of no surprise. Taken prisoner, forced into menial servitude, violated…" the sheer level of spite in that singular word was enough to make me flinch "It was as much as I was expecting but simple and crude to my expectations. It did seem to surprise them when I enacted my revenge the first chance that came."
"To think that those fools thought that merely burying me alive was enough to bring death. The insult was almost more grave than their poor attempt to snuff my life. I started with the boy, his father listening to his screams as I broke his bones and crushed him into the pit, burying him deep into the latrine but not trying to suffocate him like they had with me. His father couldn't do anything but listen after I chained him to his bed with the same chains they had used on me. His death was neither quick nor painless but I watched until the hut was naught but ash, almost curious to see if he could escape his bonds before the fire consumed him. His son watched as well but didn't have much of a choice in the matter. He too begged and cried when I came for him with the lantern."
The look of utter horror and morbid interest on my face caught her gaze and she stopped, looking at me with a face highlighted by the glowing flames. Her hood was down, letting her hair flow in the slight evening breeze as she told her story of death and suffering. "Why are you telling me this?" I eventually replied as the silence seemed to drag on for eternity.
"I'm telling you this so you are fully aware of what will happened when you betray me." She said simply, the threat hanging on every word like poison on an assassin's dagger.
"And what makes you think that I'll betray you too?"
The quizzical look that came across her face was not the reaction I was expecting. "Betrayal is as inevitable as death itself. There is no escaping it, merely prolonging the inevitable."
"Then why stay with me?"
She laughed, an honest laugh despite the darkness underlying it. "Where else would I go? Should I simply wander this hell of stone and greenery until someone else deems to use me for their pound of flesh? At least with you I can learn more about this land and be able see your perfidy ahead of time and be ready for it."
"Then why didn't you resist when the guard came to put you in prison?"
"If I resisted then they would have just slew me where I stood. Although if I'm honest I am still surprised that they didn't do so where they realised what had happened." She shrugged, her long hair moving with the rise and fall of her shoulders. "I am not willing to simply lay down and die, especially for any male who thinks himself my equal."
"Well in that regards we are not that similar." With a flick off into the darkness I threw a chuck of gristle from the last of my meal, wiping my hands and face on my cloak like she had before. "I am not going to sit back and wait for death to claim me. If I have to meet it head on then I will, but I will not be caught skulking and living in fear of it."
Another smile raised the corners of her mouth, but still somehow not managing to reach her eyes.
We sat in silence for a while, watching as the night grew deeper and the clouds crawling across the sky and covering the stars and moons from view. A storm felt as though it was building towards the coast, many kilometres away to the south and west, and to the north the great plains and deserts of Hammerfell would be growing cold. Viconia concerned me but with the gnawing darkness growing within my mind I had other things to worry about than the duplicitous siren seated on the other side of the fire. I knew that it would not be long until the sun began to affect me just as bad as her first days in finding herself in Cyrodiil and as the far away storm began to growl I somehow knew that the worst was yet to come.
It had seemed like I had merely placed my head on my pack for an instant before I was awoken by a sharp series of kicks to my legs and feet. Waking groggily and mind numbed from the short hours of rest and dreams of blood and desire I looked up at Viconia as she stood above me, waiting for me to regain consciousness.
The sky was still dark, not even the grey of predawn on the horizon but the fire had begun to burn into a dull red of hot coals. Viconia was fully dressed as she had been every morning she had awoken me to continue on our journey but this time there was an obvious tenseness about her.
"Something's wrong." She stated simply, motioning towards the south.
Rolling onto my side and looking about the camp I blinked the sleep from my eyes, still groggy and feeling exhausted from the intensity of my dreams. The thirst was growing worse and worse but as I looked out over the darkened landscape the urges suddenly vanished in a surge of unease.
Rolling banks of clouds had rolled over us and blotted out the stars while I had slept, seemingly lowering the roof of the world to only a few hundred metres above our heads. With no Moons or stars to light the sight before us it appeared as a featureless expanse of nothingness except the glowing cluster of lights far off in the horizon.
Throbbing a hateful red pulse into the sky, the far off sight of our destination glowed with an unusual intensity from its spire of rock. It pulsed and moved with the breeze, shifting and swaying slightly in the distant kilometres between it and our position on the edge of the Great Forest. For several minutes I stared, feeling the gnawing pit of worry open further within my guts and I found myself inexplicably donning my travelling clothes, shrugging on the thick gambeson and hurriedly dressing myself in my chainmail.
"Looks like neither of us are getting a full night's sleep." Viconia muttered to herself as she began to place the last handful of items she had near the fire into her pack.
"How long ago did you notice that?" I asked, throwing my cloak around my shoulders and wrapping a bandanna of cloth around my forehead.
"About an hour ago. I thought it was a trick of the clouds but it's steadily getting more noticeable."
I ran my fingers through my hair, slicking it back before pulling the steel coif over my head where it rested against the bandanna. My cloak was soon wrapped around my shoulders, clasped to my throat and covering most of the chainmail from the morning dew. Soon I was covered and wearing every piece of armour and clothing I owned and Viconia noticed that obvious fact.
"It looks to me that the city is on fire." The gnawing fear in my belly was getting worse now as I mentally checked off all my equipment, ensuring that my belt, pouches and pack were all attached securely.
"There is the taste of magicka on the wind." Her eyes were glowing a cold yellow light now as she weaved her fingers through the air, tracing out intricate patterns out of nothing. "Unless some surface dwelling excuse for a mage exploded I doubt that it's as simple as arson."
There was definitely magicka involved, while not as attuned or experienced as Viconia the pressure in the back of my skull told me more than what my eyes could. Something was terribly wrong and we set off hurriedly, kicking soil over the hot coals and not waiting for dawn before we set off.
With undue haste we travelled in the darkness, witnessing the rising mists floating out of the ground as they consumed the world around us. For some time I grew concerned with the thought of travelling in the wrong direction but twilight announced the rising sun and allowed us to continue our path south. We marched in silence, our pace rapid as the kilometres were chewed through alarmingly quickly. Hooded and cloaked, the swirling mists stuck to us until we were both gleaming with moisture and I found myself licking my lips every dozen paces an overwhelming thirst. With every step that I placed in front I could feel the desire of drink liquids not of water of alcohol but before I realised it I had thankfully slipped into the strange trance that all Legionaries did while on the march. The desires of the body faded, all conscious thoughts removed until the hollow shell of flesh and bone was left to concern itself with nothing more than putting each foot before the other. In doing so the kilometres of the journey were left in the dust and soil behind and my mind seemed to slip away, including for the most part the desire for blood. I knew I was grimacing in concentration and beside me Viconia was in a similar state as she ignored the body's desire for rest and comfort and moved with all the determination of a veteran legionary.
Dawn broke and the sun rose slowly as we marched on through the swirling mists. The chill in the air was nothing compared to the frozen north but the faint traces of light that penetrated through the fog was enough to cause discomfort to me. So far gloves, cloak and hood were enough to ward off the sun's vicious embrace but I was fast running out of time.
As the early morning began to give way to midday the fog began to lift across the broken spires and plateaus that surrounded Kvatch. Ancient soil allowed bountiful harvests to be sewn into the hills, a soil that was thick, black and rich under the carpet of knee high grasses and shrubs. It would've been serene and calm if not for the shifting wind bringing the hints of death and destruction as it rolled over us in the direction of Hammerfell.
The taste of death and fire caught in the back of my throat, with hints of sulphur and rot that went little towards scrubbing the taste of copper from my tongue. It was growing stronger now and soon Viconia and I found ourselves trading expressions of concern and confusion at what was occurring. She was testing the air every few minutes, eyes glowing as she felt out the rolling waves of magicka in the region that battered into my mind and threatened to develop into a headache.
It was as the mist lifted that we finally laid eyes on the terrible sight before us, our destination rising out of the rolling cloudbanks and revealing its terrible beauty for all to see. Still over an hour's travel to the south, billowing swirls of smoke and flame ejected themselves into the heavens and I found myself suddenly feeling as though I was standing before the awe-inspiring face of Vvardenfell's Red Mountain again. The towering spire of rock, forty metres high and capped with the stone buttresses of the city walls reached high above us, almost appearing as though the ancient volcanic plug the city had been built upon had opened its throat and roared.
Scattered about us the tiny hamlets and collections of farms were rapidly vacating. Their occupants had woken in the early hours of the morning to behold a scene of destruction and wished to be no part of it. We appeared to be the only individuals heading towards the city engulfed in flames as dozens of farmers and their families loaded wagons or simply gathered whatever they could carry before scattering to the winds. Even as we got closer and passed some of the groups they didn't look in our direction, choosing to ignore the sight of the Drow and Imperial dressed and readied for conflict. Ash was floating on the breeze, bringing with it the feel of doom and destruction and soon we found ourselves almost jogging and moving steadily as we made our way to the southern wall and the only gates into the city.
Built on the plateau of basalt and granite Kvatch had long since been the site of an important trade hub and fortification between Counties Skingrad and Anvil. Its proximity not only to Valenwood but Hammerfell ensured that it had grown rich and prosperous. Its walls were thick and strong, its militia and Guard well equipped and markets packed with merchants and traders from cities such as Rihad to the north west and also caravans carrying the wares of an Empire thanks to the Port City of Anvilto the west. All this had proven to be worth naught however as we climbed the cobbled road up the slope towards the city's entrance and found ourselves seeing with our own eyes the death and destruction that had befallen the city.
Handfuls of people, soot staining their clothes and skin made their way along the road towards the east. While three days' travel on foot the throngs seemed determined to reach the safety that County Skingrad seemed to offer, mostly ignoring Viconia and I as we moved the opposite direction with hands on our weapons. For the most part the crowds seemed to ignore us, heads bent under the weight of the events, eyes staring and framed in faces of terror and shock and clutching what few meagre possessions they had managed to take with them from the burning hell at their backs. Babes swaddled at their mothers' chests cried relentlessly, their parents too shocked or insensible themselves to calm the infants. Children sobbed, family members cried in anguish of those that were not by their sides and not since I had taken part in counterinsurgency raids against ashlander tribes had I seen such devastation and loss. This was the sight of a city dying, but what worried me more than anything was that out of the thousands who lived within the walls, only this small collection of refugees staggered down the cobblestones away from what had been their home.
"What in Shar's name is happening here?" Viconia asked, stepping away from a small family group of argonians with distaste clear on her features. "I didn't expect us to find ourselves in the middle of a war."
My bow was in my hands, knuckles creaking under the strain as I looked about for anyone willing to explain what was happening. Too often I saw nothing more than the wide open eyes of those in shock and most seemed to be too lost in their own worlds of misery to even acknowledge my presence.
"The Empire is at peace." I replied, moving from group to group and trying to get any of their attentions long enough to tell us more about what was happening. "There is nothing to even suggest an invasion or an attack like this."
"Except the death of your Emperor and his sons."
The thought did not sit quietly in my mind as I looked about at the devastation and the billowing clouds of smoke and ash rising into the storm clouds. This was a scene of conquest and destruction that the Empire had not experienced in centuries and I knew that this and the Emperor's death was no coincidence. Soon I was almost jogging up the slope, trying to find someone, anyone who would give us an explanation as the crowds began to thin and only a handful of stragglers remained.
I moved from person to person, asking and demanding answers that no one seemed willing or able to give. Descriptions of beasts and a monster of iron and flame were repeated in various ways but no one seemed to know anything of what was occurring. Not with any certainty anyway. It was only when we almost came within sight of the southern walls that a young Altmer, face covered in soot and suffering a fierce burn down his arm stopped before me with a now all-too-familiar expression of shock.
"You need to run." He said, rolling the words out of his mouth while staring at me blankly. "While there's still time."
I gripped him by his unwounded shoulder, pulling him back slightly as he tried to continue past. "Run? From what? What is happening up there?"
He looked at me, eyes finally focussing on me and not on whatever thoughts filled his mind. "Gods' blood, you don't know. Do you?"
There was a pause and he swallowed, glancing back the way he had come and shuddering. "Daedra overran Kvatch in the night!"
A lumpy ball of ice settled into my stomach and my eyes followed his up into smoke and ash spreading and corrupting the clouds. I gripped his arm tighter, holding him as I felt every muscle in his body scream to pull away from me and flee after the others. "Tell me everything." I stated simply, seeing him nod in affirmation.
"There were glowing portals outside the walls!" he began, suddenly rushing his words in an effort to have my grip on his shoulder released. "Gates to Oblivion itself!"
Beside me Viconia had moved closer, listening intently and glancing between me, the Altmer and the flame wracked skies above us. "There was a huge creature… something out of a nightmare and it came right over the walls blasting fire. They swarmed around it… killing everything…"
"Go and see for yourself!" The fear was threatening to overwhelm him as he gestured wildly in the vague direction of the city. "Kvatch is a smoking ruin! We're all that's left, do you understand me!? Everyone else is dead!"
My disbelief was obvious on my face and both Viconia and I seemed to share the same opinion of the impossibility of his words. We had only passed a few hundred souls making their way to the east, and there would obviously be more heading the opposite direction towards Anvil as well as those scattering to the four winds. It was a terrifying thought that a city of over 90,000 was now left as a couple of hundred terrified individuals huddling and fleeing as quickly as they could.
I turned back to him and gave him a withering stare. "How did you manage to escape then?" My snarl seemed to strike some semblance of control back into his fragile sanity.
Recoiling from me but failing to escape my grasp he stammered, almost whimpering at the cold expression on my face that matched Viconia's own. "It was Savlian Matius, the Gate commander and some of the other guards… They helped us escape over the walls before cutting their way out through the Pilgrim's Gate. Savlian says that they can hold the road until the Legion arrives but I don't believe him. Nothing can stop them!"
I let the elf go, releasing my grip on his shoulder and giving him a push on his way as his fear returned with brutal force. "If you'd seen it, you'd know! They'll be here any minute I'm telling you! Run while you still can!"
On unsteady legs he teetered for a moment before rushing off down the road after the others. It was then I knew that I was faced with another choice, whatever waited for us at the gates of Kvatch was unlike anything seen before. It was so easy to consider simply turning on my heel and following the streams of wounded and broken civilians to safety.
Instead I turned and looked at Viconia, who stood by my side with her usual expressionless mask as she regarded the last handfuls of refugees flowing around us with disgust. The site of such tragedy didn't affect her in the slightest but I could see the tenseness that had filled her muscles with latent energy.
"What do you think?" I asked her softly, seeing surprise on her face briefly before she smothered it.
A grin broke through, one that was vicious and terrible to behold on such a beautiful face. "I don't run." She said simply, drawing her sword carefully and completely ignoring the looks of alarm from those walking past.
"I never thought you would." Carefully I strung my bow, feeling the tension running through it mirroring that in my muscles. I may have deserted but I would not simply retreat in the face of enemies, no matter how outrageous or impossible they had been claimed to be. Without pause we both had turned and began to lightly jog up the hill, pouches slapping against our bodies and chainmail jingling with every step.
The sight that awaited us on the top of the rise was incomprehensible. Towering above the walls and burning with ferocious hellfire, a yawning portal sat impossibly in the cracked and broken ground. Obsidian spikes rose up as though they yearned to drag down the heavens themselves, and everywhere the blackened and scorched remains of those unlucky few who had been outside the gates when the event occurred lay where they had fallen. Terrible and horrifying the monolithic doorway into Oblivion was easily thirty metres tall, framed by fingers of magma-scorched stone that was somehow glossy and non-reflective at the same time. Ethereal flames licked and flowed up its surface, all the while roaring like a glacial storm approaching from the Sea of Ghosts with an unmatched ferocity.
Everywhere I looked death and destruction was present. The crumbled remains of what I could only assume were other portals were scattered about in front of their sole remaining sibling in front of the City's primary gatehouse. While normally this wouldn't have prevented escape I could see where the flame blackened stones of the other two minor gates had collapsed and fused together into jumbled heaps of masonry and dust, their metal portcullises blasted with such incredible heat that steel had flowed as water. Ropes near the small eastern gate hung slackly from the walls where those few lucky survivors had managed to escape with the aid of the city Guard but it was obvious that no one else going to be able to utilise this method of escape.
Nearer to the blazing portal the last handful of survivors were making their stand in a ramshackle barricade made from a collection of wagons and trade goods. Several of the flatbed wagons had been overturned, resting on their sides and spoked wheels and acting as walls where barrels and chests had been placed in-between them to hinder passage. The low laying natures of the chests, crates and barrels allowed the collection of armed men and women to fire a motley collection of bows and crossbows at the darting inhuman forms of their attackers.
Both Viconia and I initially stopped in our tracks at the sight. Men and women, dressed in everything from the steel hauberks and tabards of the city guard, to brigandine and leather of caravan guards and even the full steel plate of a travelling knight were hunched behind the barricades desperately fending off what were unmistakably daedra. As we rushed forward I saw one of the armoured fighters go down under the horns and claws of the frill-headed reptile, his screaming plucking at my ears as it began to disembowel him in a frenzy of motion. Other hellish creatures swarmed about the handful of defenders, the tiny impish forms of scamps; recognisable from my previous experiences against Dunmer Daedra worshippers leapt and cavorted about. They gibbering incessantly, only pausing to throw burning bolts of fire at whoever they spotted with questionable accuracy.
The defenders seemed to rally and push back, several of their number firing bolts and arrows into daedra flesh with accuracy born of desperation. The lizard thing dropped with several shafts jutting from its flesh but not succeeding on stopping it from slaughtering the man underneath. A scamp fell on its side as an arrow punched through its throat, it's keening loud enough to make me grind my teeth at the sound. Everywhere there seemed to be foes and Viconia and I found ourselves rushing across the scorched ground to assist.
My wounds forgotten, I raised my bow and began hurling barbed shafts into any daedra that I could see, firing as quickly as I had even been trained without reducing my accuracy. A trio of scamps went down hard, thrown backwards and punched off their feet as the broad head arrows made a mockery of their infernal skin. One of their kind dropping with a squeal as an arrow rammed itself into its mouth with a puff of blood.
Viconia was almost more terrifying in battle than the creatures she faced. Breaking into a run she sprinted across the ground as though her feet didn't need to touch the ground. Sword clasped in her right fist, her left hand was free to gesture wildly as she charged the foul creatures and blasted one of the other reptiles apart in a explosion of gore. Fireballs filled the air around her but she simply flicked them aside as though swatting away insects with bursts of magical power or blocked them on a gleaming shield of energy. Each bolt of fire would either splash away from her or patter harmless off the ward she threw up and before the foul beasts could do any more she was amongst them.
Twirling and twisting, never stopping or ceasing in her attacks she flowed with a liquid grace and not ceasing in killing while any enemies remained in range. A scamp dropped howling as it's guts opened and spilled its foul slimy entrails everywhere, another was fried with a well-placed bolt of lightning and several others lost their limbs in spiralling arcs of ichor. She could not be stopped by such creatures and between her, myself and the handful of survivors who rushed forward to support us there were few daedra remaining.
I was fascinated by the collection of people who had chosen to make their stand before the roaring gate to Oblivion. City guards, mercenaries, and travelling warriors stood side by side with cooks, bakers, daytalers and beggars. As the guards and more professional individuals hacked and fought with all their might and skill, the everyday citizens fought just as hard, if not more so against their daedric adversaries. As I fired another arrow into the chest of a squealing scamp I watched as the portly figure of a blacksmith, still dressed in his apron and thick leather gloves charge the burning figure of a flame Atronach as it glided and danced across the ground. Crying with fear and determination he ignored the creature's fiery blasts, deflecting one of its fireballs with the saucepan lid he wielded as though it was a buckler before getting close enough to smash it bodily into the ground his smithing hammer.
The sounds of battle died off as the last of the daedra were brought low. Dozens more bodies of similar creatures were scattered between the gate and makeshift barricade, most of which occupying a wide semi-circle around the position and the handful of defenders who still survived. As far as I could see less than forty were left standing with a pitifully small amount of wounded laying behind the protection of the overturned carts and wagons.
One of the guards, armour stained and its wolf's head tabard torn and burned staggered over to Viconia and I, glaring at the two of us with a mixture of annoyance and pity. He was exhausted, shield hanging limply on his arm where it had obviously been for hours now, and his sword was so heavily stained with daedric blood that he struggled to force it into its scabbard.
"This is no place for you." He stated simply, exhaustion removing any trace of pretence from his voice or mannerisms. "You should get out of here."
"We came to help." I replied, moving forward and slinging my bow over my shoulder. "I'm Kaius and this is Viconia."
"I'm Commander Matius, and I don't really care who you are." With a grimly glove and sleeve he wiped his forehead and did little more than rearrange the filth plastering his skin. Grunting, he placed the nasal helm back over the padded coif protecting his head and motioned at the towering maw of the Gate. "But if you are stupid enough to hang around then it's your funeral."
He extruded a bitter form of determination, the loss of the city and all that had happened obviously overwhelming him to the point pushing him to his utter limits. However, unlike the dozens if not hundreds of fleeing refugees streaming away from the city he and these few had chosen to make their stand.
"What's the plan then commander?" My question resulted in a hacking laugh of one who's lungs now contained more than their fair share of ash and dust.
Spitting and knuckling the phlegm from his lips he shrugged. "The plan? We'll try to hold our ground, that's what the plan is. If we can't hold this barricade then these beasts could march right down the roads and slaughter everyone they come across. We have to try and protect the few that are left. It's all we can do until the Legion arrives."
"You've sent for help?"
"Of course we've sent for help! Did someone take a dump in your skull? A runner was sent to the western messenger post as soon as we got over the walls. But it's at least a four-hour march from Fort Wariel so I don't expect to see a Legionary any time soon."
"Well you have one here now." I replied bitterly, ignoring the sense of cosmic amusement underlying my words. "Just what in the name of the Divines happened here?"
"We lost the damned city, that's what happened." He sighed as the toll on his body of obviously fighting for a dozen hours began to wear away at his reserves of willpower. "It was too much, too fast. We were overwhelmed and could barely get anyone out. Talos' balls, we could barely even get ourselves out and there are Gods-knows how many people are trapped in there."
"I can't believe that the entire city is dead. There will be survivors."
"Well some made it into the Cathedral from what little we saw from the walls but dozens, if not hundreds were just run down in the streets. For all I know the Count and some of his guards are still holed up in the castle." His entire body shook with rage as he gazed across over the walls and the gate blocking the last entrance into the city. "We're too exhausted from the fighting and there are too few of us to scale back over the walls and get to the castle, let alone retake the city."
I looked at him and felt my own conviction begin to burn brightly in amidst all of the death and carnage. "Well, you have us at your command. We'll do whatever we can.
"Well unless you can find a way to shut that damn thing and give us access to the city again you're going to be stuck holding the barricade with the rest of us."
"It is possible." Viconia suddenly said, her voice filled with an unusual echo as she stared off into the blazing portal. Both the guard commander and I took an involuntary step backwards as the crackling energies around her seemed to perceptibly build. With eyes glowing brightly in the enforced twilight of smoke and haze she twitched involuntarily and withdrew her senses from whatever seer ability she had been utilising. "The portal is sustained by an artefact within the realm beyond the gate. Removing it will close the gate."
"That's tantamount to suicide!"
I couldn't help but agree with him even as Viconia continue staring and studying the portal. "Has anyone else tried entering the gate?"
"Commander Ausonius led a counter attack after we had climbed down the walls with a small contingent of the town guard. The attacks from the portal have lessened considerably since then but I can't say whether that is a result of his actions or not."
I licked my all-too-dry lips and stared into the gaping wound in reality. Every conscious thought in my head was screaming at the insanity of such an idea, but the overwhelming thirst for blood was drowning out all but the loudest and most pressing of thoughts. It was all I could do to ignore the fact that I could hear and feel the heartbeats of all those around us, and somehow I could taste the lifeforce flowing under their skins. The heady sensation of their flesh and blood; made ever more succulent and tempting by the fermentation of fear and adrenaline flowing through their veins. I knew I was dangerously close to the precipice and diving head first to certain death in the depths of Oblivion itself seemed to be a better choice than succumbing to the taint corroding my soul.
"It must be possible." I murmured, eyes rolling over the terrain and desperately trying not to look at the pulsating veins visible in the flesh of the men and women around me. "It looks to me that there were several other portals open besides this one."
Matius looked to where I was pointing and nodded. "There were. Two others this size in front of the side gates further along the wall, and one easily three times their size. You can see the marks of the greater gate between us and this last one. Look, I can't and won't order you two to your deaths. We will hold the line and wait for the legion to send reinforcements. By then we'll have the strength and the manpower to do something."
The several moments of silence seemed to drag on for eternity and I could feel the fear in my gut being overwhelmed with the increasing desire to drag these men and women down and tear their throats out with my teeth. Closing my eyes against the building pressure in my skull I controlled my breathing and ignored the fact that everyone within earshot was listening and watching both Viconia and I intently.
Words failed me and I spat harshly on the ground, reaching back and drawing another arrow from its quiver and trying not to think about the lunacy of my actions, or the fact that there were only a few shafts left. Matius openly gaped, as did the handful of defenders around us as I stepped over the barricade and began striding towards the roaring portal into Oblivion.
Viconia followed without hesitation, although I knew that I had merely started walking forward before she could and that she was going to enter that fiery gate whether I went or not. Weapons in hand we made our way several paces from the singed and broken wagons and barrels, the guard commander jogging forward briefly before we could go too far.
He came to a stop beside me, face grim as he regarded us both in a new light. "Good luck." The statement was simple but overwhelmingly honest. "If you get in there find out what happened to Ausonius and the others. Get anyone alive out of there and try to close this damnable thing. We'll wait for you both."
My smile was grim and I knew he realised that I was fully aware of our chances with such actions. There was the briefest of nods to Viconia and I before he stepped back, rapping his fist against his chest before hurrying back to the barricade to prepare for the next daedric assault.
Viconia and I strode to the towering inferno blocking all passage in and out of the ruined city, feeling the whipping of winds plucking at our clothing as it tore into and blasted out of the portal. The ground was crackled and burnt underfoot, stones turned to glass from incredible heat and the destruction seemed complete. Taking a breath and not allowing myself to think about my actions, I ducked my head and stepped forth into Oblivion.
An oppressive heat rushed forth to meet us upon exiting the portal on the other side, and immediately I felt sweat bloom across my body almost as fast as it evaporated. Sulphur and brimstone, ash and smoke forced itself into our unwilling throats and lungs and for several moments Viconia and I went almost bent over with coughing fits. Tearing strips from our clothing we immediately fashioned masks of cloth and leather that while seeming to stop the majority of the taste of ash from catching in the back of our throats it didn't do anything for the rotten-egg stink or the sheer temperatures assailing us.
We found ourselves in a world of fire and magma, of volcanic rock blasted by millennia of destructive processes and almost carved from the very depths of the world itself. A sky of hellfire boiled overhead, clouds of noxious gasses and storms of molten metal clashing together with the sounds of a collapsing armour factory. Obsidian spikes and strange constructions of serrated black glass reached for the sky and directly in front of us and the glowing portal back to Mundus was a tower that seemed capable of tearing the heavens down with sheer spite.
It was a world inimical to life, hostile to all those except it's equally hostile inhabitants that strangely enough weren't waiting on this side of the gate for intruders.
This fact alone would have been enough to be concerning if it wasn't for the signs of intense fighting within the portal's vicinity. Blood, both mortal and daedric was soaking into the ground and already congealed by the heat and everywhere corpses lay where they had fallen. Mailed bodies of Kvatch guards in their Wolf's-head surcoats left pitiful remains where they had died. Most lay clutching their various injuries, contorted with pain and agony. Others appeared as though they had died fending off attacks that had left them little more than butchered hunks of meat held together in the semblance of humanoid form by the constricting nature of their armour.
Viconia and I shared a glance, noting that there were dozens of daedric corpses. Some the same stunted imps and reptilian monsters that had assailed the barricades outside of Kvatch, others were towering humanoids encased in obsidian armour that seemed to be forged in blood. They were towering creatures, easily seven or eight feet tall, black leathery skin and ridges and spikes of bone erupting across their bodies. Most were clad in thick plate armour that was horrific to behold, others dressed in robes that appeared to be made from some form of tanned hide that I didn't want to think too much about. Each were surrounded by one or more corpses of city guards, and I knew with a glance around at the carnage that there could not be many survivors of such a battle.
"Well, where to now?" I asked Viconia, looking over to her where she stood surrounded by the dead.
She simply pointed to the spined tower rising before us and the stone bridge that crossed the moat of lava surrounding it. Around us it appeared as though there was a veritable sea of the material as far as we could see. "The energies of whatever is keeping this gate open is within the tower."
"And I bet that it is right at the bloody top as well." I sighed, rubbing at my temples in a vain attempt to force the growing desire for blood into the back of my mind. It was growing more and more powerful now and unlike the days previous there wasn't a deer nearby to fend it off long enough to remain functional.
Carefully we picked our way through the carnage, ignoring the dead where they had fallen but keeping our eyes peeled for any further foes. Several of the corpses had been eaten, great hunks of flesh rent from their bones or in a few cases entire body parts were missing with no clue to their whereabouts. Others had been placed with almost a reverent care onto the jagged spires and spikes spearing from the ground, impaled in blood-chilling fashions that made my gorge rise as we passed by their grotesque bodies and anguished faces. Out of the guards who had assaulted the portal we doubted that there would be many, if any at all still alive.
Of a greater concern however to me at least was the overwhelming lack of opposition or even traces of life within the area. Other than the flitting forms of winged creatures alighting on the upper levels of the tower or wheeling high within the tortured sky there was nothing to suggest the forces or numbers of creatures and beasts capable of devastating an entire city of thousands. There was nothing to even suggest that there was anything within the area at all, even as we made our way to the towering edifice and pushed inside the cavernous doorway imbedded into the base.
For dozens, if not hundreds of meters and easily rivalling the White Gold Tower in scale, the daedric construction rose up above us. While thin like a needle in comparison to the ancient Ayleid tower of the Imperial City, this structure was utilitarian to the extreme if one looked past the walls weeping gore and the layers of spikes and jagged serrations festooning every surface. Savage intent was in every grove and marking in the building and as I lifted my head to gaze up the tower's hollow core I could see a burning orb of fire many dozens of metres above where we stood.
Viconia had no concerns and simply picked a direction and began moving, finding a staircase that she climbed with inexhaustible energy. There was little more for me to do but to follow, my bow in hand and arrow gripped tightly between forefingers and thumb and ready to be pulled back and loosed in an instant.
With every step my desire to feed grew ever more crushing and it wasn't long before I could feel the physical changes begin to rip through my body as the later stages of the disease finally took hold. The skin of my face began to tingle and feel tighter, the bones of my jaw and brow pressing against their fleshy prison and soon I felt a strange sense of power and agility flow through my veins. I felt stronger and faster, but so did the thirst and soon I was matching Viconia's pace up the winding staircases of the tower, holding myself back but yet physically hunting her simultaneously as the rhythmic drumbeat of her heart urged me on.
She was little more than half a dozen steps ahead of me, my grip on my bow and arrow weakening as I staggered to the top with every hint of utter exhaustion filling me despite the surging strength filling my limbs. We were easily halfway up the towering edifice, reaching a level where tiny rooms branched off in several directions and another spiralling staircase rose up into the wall in which it was set. Once more there was nothing in sight, living or daedric in nature and I knew that what little self-control I had left was badly frayed to the point of nonexistence.
My bow clattered to the floor and the sound echoed through the tower like a thunderclap and I dropped to my knees, groaning with the exertion of ignoring my body's cry for blood. I could feel my arms tense and budge with unnatural strength, the burns suddenly feeling as though they were non-existent and my fists clenching so tightly that the leather of the gloves split around the knuckles. Under my mask I could feel my face shifting, incisors lengthening to dangerous points that split my lips in a ghastly smile of a nocturnal predator even as my jaw twitched and grew stronger for a more powerful bite. The darkness within the tower seemed to shift and blur, before dropping away as though perfectly lit by lanterns. The man that I once was screamed outrage and despair into the void that was now my soul and turning to see what had happened Viconia stared with confusion at the sight.
"What in all the hells is wrong with you Jaluk?" she spat, taking a single pace forward with her sword gripped tightly in her hand.
I lifted my head and stared at her from my spot on the floor, face tightening and eyes narrowing as I smelt the powerful aroma of her blood that I could almost taste. The beast had fully gained control now as I rose to my feet, my mask falling away from my changed features and revealing to her a creature clothed in my flesh.
Spitting curses, she staggered backwards, not in fear but in complete surprise and shock at my appearance. My lengthened incisors split my bottom lip slightly as I snarled, now completely bestial and almost heeding nothing more than the song of her blood. Unnoticed to the both of us initially one of the doors to the room opened and the plate armoured form of a daedra was revealed.
The surprise was total, and it is a hard choice to determine who was more shocked between myself, Viconia and the daedric warrior. For a handful of seconds it stood as though a statue, staring with an all-too-human look of surprise on its face as it realised that the tower had been breached.
With a roar that would've woken the dead the Dremora ripped its sword from the ring of metal clasping it to its side and stepped forward to rush the two of us. My own roar made it sound like the mewling of a child in comparison, causing not only Viconia to step back with the first signs of fear on her ebony features but actually stopping the daedra's advance in its tracks as it struggled to comprehend exactly what it was facing. The seconds it delayed however spelt its doom as I threw myself upon it with blind fury, the vampire that had taken control of my body acting to remove the threat to its prey by the most efficient means necessary.
The Dremora's armour was fashioned like a facsimile of the tower; all edges were gleaming and serrated and portions appeared to be weeping a foul ichor that stained whatever it touched. The sword in its hand could've cut me in half without slowing if it had connected but I had suddenly found myself faster and stronger than I could've ever imagined. It's first slice hit nothing but air as I contemptuously leant aside, feeling the blade's passage across my face as my sword found itself way into my hand and hacked down on its. In a gout of blood its hand came away, the daedric nature of its plate armour proving insufficient to protect against the power behind my strike as the steel sword sheared through the blackened metal with surprising ease. It roared deafeningly into my ear as its hand and sword clattered to the floor, reaching with its remaining hand with no sign of pain or even acknowledging an injury that would've put a mortal on their knees.
I danced out of its grasp, slicing at the black-red plate and realising that the armour was all too familiar to me. In the tiniest part of my mind that wasn't consumed by the animalistic nature of a starved vampire I realised that it was almost identical to the armour worn by the Emperor's assassins. With that thought in mind my attacks somehow increased in ferocity. Its fingers were crushed by a strike from my sword's pommel, and an eye was cut out of its face despite the scowling plate helm that covered it's red-black skin from sight. Screaming now in rage and indignation the creature redoubled its efforts even as I began to saw its head from its shoulders with the edge of the sword. Roaring in triumph and yanking to release the last threads of leathery flesh I pulled the decapitated head from its shoulders, feeling it's ichor splatter my face and chest and filling my nostrils with the stench of sulphur.
The moment of peace was short lived however as it was not alone. Alerted to its cries of anger and my own blood thirsty roars, several more of the hulking daedra had rushed into the room from down the stairs and through the larger of the doors and filled the air with their guttural roars of pleasure at seeing foes.
Viconia sprang into action, leaping and twirling and never once stopping in place. Using her own momenteum she was able to place an incredible amount of power behind her attacks as she stabbed with pinpoint precision at any perceived weakness in their armoured forms. One dropped almost immediately as she punched the tip of her gleaming sword under its jaw, forcing it to fold up under itself in death. By the time its face had slammed lifelessly into the floor with enough force to break its nose she was already moving, slicing at the grasping hands of its fellows and parrying a pair of sword strikes that tried to bat her from the air.
Others came for me, leaving their fellow daedra to deal with the quick moving Drow while they came to repay me for the death of their kin. They were enormous brutes of muscle and armour, wielding swords as though they were little more than metallic extensions of their arms while swinging them with such blinding speed that had I not been corrupted I would've died in seconds. Instead, purely running on instinct one of them dropped shrieking to the ground with a dagger buried to the hilt from the side of its leg under a kneecap, trying and failing to grasp the hilt of a weapon too small for the oversized gauntlets to grasp. Another lost an arm but fought on regardless of the fact, seemingly unhindered while what passed for blood was spurting from the severed limb from above the elbow.
It was five against three and soon turned to an even four as Viconia launched a flesh blistering magical assault upon one of the Dremora. It shrieked as the flesh of its face was undone, sloughing away in its hands even as its eyes exploded and ran in bloody runnels in the bones of its skull. Dropping to the floor, the corpse gently steamed from a face scoured clean of flesh and suddenly the survivors were a lot warier of the intruders in their midst.
Shudders rippling through the floor announced another foe for Viconia and I to face. Alerted by the sounds of combat the hulking form of a daedric champion appeared descending the stairs, clutching an enormous Warhammer that made all mortal crafts seem insignificant in comparison. Even with my newly acquired strength there was no way I could've lifted such a weapon of destruction, and even unarmoured the Dremora easily outweighed a legionary in full plate and could've wrestled a warhorse to the ground.
Enormous horns protruded from its bare temples, pushing forward and angling inwards. It was obvious that this Dremora was lord over its kin not only from its sheer size but from the way they immediately made deference to it despite the raging melee. Its footsteps crunched into the floor with earth-shattering force, striding towards me with utter fury filling its horrific features. Raising the entirety of the Warhammer above its head its intention smashing me into unrecognisable paste in the floor was clear to behold.
The head of the hammer thundered into the ground where I was standing, barely missing me even with my recently enhanced abilities. The Markynaz bellowed, roaring with such force that the sound alone was a physical blow to the body. Ripping the Warhammer out of the floor in an explosion of obsidian shards and dust it continued to swing ruinous attacks that would've pulped a troll. The two lesser Dremora that had been facing me attempted to surround and corral me towards their brute master but the beast occupying my flesh and mind had different ideas.
One dropped to the floor with a clatter of metal, my last dagger jutting from its helmet as a result of a perfect throw. Six inches of steel imbedded itself in its brain before it realised that I was moving and this left its kin and master remaining to face me. Snaking out I sheared through daedric plate, flesh and bone with my sword, snapping the blade from the force of a strike so powerful that left the jagged hunk of steel imbedded deep in the creature's ribcage. It gurgled uselessly, clawing at me in the vain attempt to pull itself across the floor while I faced down the eight-foot-tall Dremora Lord that now seemed even more infuriated.
Crunches of masonry and roars of utter hatred echoed through the room, drowning out all others even as Viconia held her own against the last of her adversaries. It swung its Warhammer with wild abandon, crushing through the walls and floors with every swing and raging at my ability to duck and weave out of the way at the last second. Cursing in its own guttural tongue it lashed out with a serrated gauntlet as I stepped in to exploit an opening in its guard, moving faster than any mortal but still missing me by the closest of margins. With my ruined sword in hand I lashed out at its exposed face, it's armour proving to be too much even for my enhanced strength to penetrate. Striking at the weaker exposed flesh I was rewarded with an arc of blood as it carved part of its cheek away from the gleaming black bone underneath.
Like the others, such an injury provided little more than discomfort to the daedra, as it merely redoubled its efforts to kill me and sucked its breath through a hole in its face that exposed jagged teeth. I had lost myself in the orgy of bloodlust, the last barriers of my will crumbling under the vampiric assault on my mind. Little more than a starving beast I had lost myself wholly to the creature and when the Markynaz's foul blood splattered my face and open, snarling mouth the last thread of control I still retained snapped as surely as though it was cut with a mithril blade.
I leapt, moving through the hulking Dremora Lord's guard like mist and lashing at its face with fingers as strong as iron. Flailing wildly, it battered away at me, its flesh-pulping blows wasting their strength on air even as I managed to clamber on top of its back. My fingers dug into its skull, grasping a horn in one hand and ripping its head aside even as it managed to grab my wrist with bone crushing force.
Pain flared up my arm as the hand gripping its horns broke under the bear-trap like grip of the Dremora but the beast was not to be denied with victory so close at hand. Incisors gleaming, pain suddenly little more than an abstract emotion I latched onto the creature's throat and bit deeply into its rancid flesh.
Hot sulphuric liquid surged between my lips as the Dremora went into spasms at the impossibility of my actions. Freezing and all muscles tensing up with the shock and intrusion of my fangs into its throat it stopped all attempts to pry me loose, instead aching it's back and falling to its knees. My wrist was broken, shattered from the constricting grip but it was far away, barely even noticeable as wave upon wave of corrupted, demonic ichor spurted into my throat that I drank greedily.
It was no warm metallic tang of deer blood, or even the alluring, imaginary taste of Viconia's supple flesh but of brute and overwhelming power unlike anything that walked the mortal world. Even as my body rebelled against the corruption contained within the unholy liquid the vampire revelled in the sensation, drinking greedily and spilling it over my face as I coughed, gagged and forced more and more of it into my stomach with every swallow. Enormous, unbelievable strength pushed through my limbs and suddenly everything was sent spiralling out of control. I could feel Viconia's heartbeat, taste the sweat upon her body and see the tiniest of muscle movements as time itself seemed to slow as though encased in treacle. The surviving Dremora were shocked almost into submission at my actions, and I could feel myself become bloated with the Markynaz's gore even as it spilled down the front of my armour and chin in splatters. It was pure power in liquid form and even as I began to vomit up the wads of blood that my body no longer had room for I could feel it surging through every vein like fire.
I pulled my broken hand from the creatures grip as though it no longer had the strength to resist me. Bones knit in seconds, fingers straightening and knuckles hardening, twisting back into shape without any of the pain that should be associated with such a healing change. My jaw twisted out of shape, the bones of my skull suddenly snapping with loud cracks as my whole face seemed to elongate and become more animalistic in appearance. Fingernails erupted into black claws of ivory, the very bones of my fingertips shifting and melding with the nails before pushing through the skin to match the hands of the Dremora themselves. Veins pulsed under my skin, sending the black ink-like corruption pumping through my body even as every muscle seemed to tighten and flex and grow with the overwhelming power. Even the teeth in my skull warped and mutated, twisting and melding into new forms as each tapered to a point until my entire maw was filled with elongated incisors that only a slaughterfish could hope to match.
The Dremora lord suddenly seemed pitifully weak and I hammered my fist into the top of its skull, crushing it and sending bone shards through what passed for its brain. I had utterly lost control now, the overwhelming blood-stink permeating through my very soul as the horrific daedric corruption mixed with the vampiric curse in a new and sickening form. Only two other daedra remaining standing, facing off against Viconia even as they forced her to back up against the wall with wild swings of their swords.
Before the corpse of the Markynaz tumbled to the floor I had already leapt, covering the distance between myself and the remaining Dremora before they could even react to movement. The first fell quickly, screaming in surprise and shock as I battered through its defences and pulped its head and chest with blows from my fists that made a mockery of its daedric plate. Its kin, reacting quickly to the greater threat turned from attacking Viconia but didn't survive much longer than its dead brother. I blocked its wild strikes, stepping in close and kicking a leg out with such force that its entire knee gave way and the greaves of its armour caved in from the blow. It fell even as I simply slapped away its futile attempts to hold me, grasping it around the wrist with enough force that the serrated gauntlet crumpled under my fingers. Keening loudly and trying to pry my hands off it, there was a considerable struggle as I secured my grasp, pressed my boot into its chest before heaving and tearing its entire arm from of its shoulder with a wash of blood.
The room fell silent as the creature died from a combination of blood loss and my boot slamming into its throat with the crackle of a broken windpipe. The room was in compete disarray, steaming corpses and chunks of daedric flesh scattered everywhere with only the hiss and gurgling of bodily fluids to break the growing silence. The level of fatigue that suddenly crashed down hard on my mind was complete and smothering in its grasp as all the adrenaline and the vampiric thirst vanished like dried leaves in the wind. My back was to Viconia and I couldn't bear to turn around and see whatever expression or reaction she may have to what she had witnessed. The pain and shame was overwhelming almost as terribly as the realisation of what I had become exploded into my mind.
Between the fatigue and the self-loathing, I could no longer bring myself to care about my fate or Viconia's reaction. I half expected to feel the piecing or slicing kiss of a blade on my flesh as I dropped to my knees as the last vestiges of the Vampire slid back into my subconscious and my skin and bones returned to their previous human forms. I was sated, blood-drunk on the power and corrupt substance that I had forcefully, willingly consumed from the polluted veins of the Dremora Lord. At that point, with the tiniest shred of sanity and humanity left in my mind I knelt there, wishing for Viconia to end my life and free me from the curse.
Instead the indefinable material of the floor rushed up to my face and I blacked out as the fatigue finally gained a proper hold on my shattered mind.