Chapter 8: The Vampire Who Would Be King
Castle Volkihar was unchanged. Though a formidable fortress, centuries of neglect and decay ensured that the structure was gradually collapsing in on itself, and frankly, the Volkihar were no different. Morcar stormed through the castle gate, the pathetic mortal watchman drawing back in fear. He approached the crumbling stone railing which overlooked the hall of decadence that lay below. The three enormous table were lined with vampires. At the head of the far table, Lord Harkon sat on his throne, fingers drumming impatiently on the table before him. Alongside him were his sycophants and his whores, fawning over their lord's attention. At the two tables running perpendicular to his sat the less important vampires, or as Morcar thought the ones who still had a spine, symbolically arranged in distance from their tiresome lord. He recognised a few of them. Movarth Piquine drank from one of the thralls splayed across the tables, whilst the ghost-like Wihtraed the Wraith wordlessly shifted his eyes across the room, searching for any sign of treachery.
Making a show of casual disregard, Morcar slowly promenaded down the steps, and nonchalantly took his seat, four from the top on the right-hand table.
"Now that all of you have seen fit to join us." Harkon drawled, his voice barely attempting to conceal his contempt. "We have matters to discuss."
"All of you represent the most powerful of the vampire lords who claim domain and a herd here in Skyrim, and some of you come from even further afield. You are no doubt wondering why. I have been communing with our Lord Molag Bal, and it is clear to me now that the time of the prophecy is close at hand. Soon my elder scroll will be returned to me, and the tyranny of the sun, that blight which has so far restrained our power over this world – will end."
With his words, the hall began to resonate with the sound of hushed voices. Morcar took this opportunity to rile up his neighbour. "Why Fura Bloodmouth" He sneered, "is that you my dear? How long has it been? Your scar is as hideous as ever I must say. Those Vigilants still tracking you down like a stray dog every time you leave the castle?" She ignored his successive jabs, instead taking the opportunity to pull something out of her pocket and slam it against the table, her hand smoking slightly as she did so. It was an amulet of Stendarr. It appeared to be engraved with a name: 'Keeper Carcette'. Morcar looked at her, a moment of surprise crossing his face. Her returning grin was positively vicious. Something beyond Harkon's usual bluster was going on here, wisdom dictated he pay attention.
"Even now, the vampires under my command have begun a campaign of terror against the mortals of Skyrim, preparing the way for our impending conquest. The Hall of the Vigilants is no more, and none remain to stand against us. I call you here, to offer you a place in the new world I am building, we are of course… all of the same bloodline, all of us kindred." The saturated benevolence Morcar detected in his voice when he spoke the last words proved that Harkon had nearly as much contempt for this hall of undead waste as he did.
"Yet I am still your Lord. Serve me well, know your place, and you will live to see an eternity of blood. What do you say?"
"Why?"
Lord Harkon brought the full weight of his fiery gaze upon Morcar. "Morcar. I'm so glad you decided to attend" The venom in his voice was so thick Morcar was surprised it didn't drip from his mouth.
"Pray tell me, what is it you fail to understand?"
"Well my Lord, I don't see the point of these open attacks. Frankly, they risk drawing unwanted attention to our presence here in Skyrim, and moreover they are completely absent of the essence, the very soul of being a vampire."
Harkon's fist crushed the goblet in his grip. "Well then, pathetic spawn of a traitorous harpy, tell us what is this 'soul' we are so missing?"
Morcar rose from his chair, lavishing in the attention that surrounded him. "To be a vampire is to walk amongst your prey, whilst they never know it. All the time learning to exploit their weaknesses, earn their trust, learn what they fear. It is to tear a city apart through mindless terror, and walk amongst the crowds who flee, basking in the scent of their fear. To be a vampire is to be an artist, a sculptor of exquisite devastation." A number of the vampires on the lower table began to murmur in agreement. Those seated near Harkon were notably silent.
"It seems, from my humble point of view, as if many of those in your service my lord have failed to learn that their tongue can be as powerful a weapon as their claws, and if tempered properly, a vampire's cunning can achieve far more." He paused for a moment, ensuring an appropriate air of drama. "Therefore, I wonder, dear lord Harkon, in this new world of yours, where would the artistry be?"
In a split second, he was lifted off the ground, sharp claws digging into this throat. Harkon's skin turned as black as dead blood, and his form began to twist and expand. A grey demon stood before him, midnight eyes like the void boring into Morcar.
"Since your sire apparently failed to educate you, worm, let me take the opportunity. THIS, is the essence of what a vampire is. Power, not your underhand games, true, untainted power in its purest form." He threw Morcar to the floor with a crack, whilst the court began to cackle mockingly.
"So, we can now move on to the next order of business." Harkon returned to his regular form, and began to pace around the centre of the hall, emanating a sense of total ease. He cast his eyes down at the vampire struggling to rise before him. "Morcar, I hear your progeny has abandoned you, and is now living among mortals" He said the last two words with a disgusted disdain, though the shame this caused Morcar quickly seemed to lift his spirits. Morcar took a moment to snap his jaw back into place. "The issue is dealt with, my lord. I have reminded her of her responsibilities and suitably chastised her. She has no-one but us now, she will either flee to us, or be put to death by the mortals. Either way, the situation is resolved."
"I am grateful for your diligence in this matter Morcar." Harkon sneered, "For if you had not, I would have had you both put to death." Harkon leaned in close. "And don't think your safe because of your petty little appeals to the weaklings of my court. Whilst you are useful, you live. But once my patience with you runs out…" He bared his fangs.
"There's nowhere in this world you, or your wretched spawn can hide from me."
