(Warning: Story contains graphic violence and may also include sexual encounters. Viewer discretion is advised. Rating: MA only)

Chapter 10: Blood

Blood. I remember her blood. On my hands. On the floor. Staining my cape and armor. Her hand falling from my face as the last drop of blood spilled from her. Her ruby red blood, the same color as her hair. I can recall nothing of our lives except for her blood. I couldn't tell you what she ate that day or how many times we danced. But I can tell you how I watched that beautiful dragon scale dress turn from green to red. I could tell how her skin, once flushed with warmth and life, now felt cold and dead. I couldn't tell you about our last night together. But I could tell you about how her hair that was once soft became hard and crusted with her own blood. And I could tell you how the spark left those eyes as she died, her blood flowing out of her and onto me.

Blood that gave her life.

Blood that left and killed her.

Blood that stained my face and mouth as I held her close and kissed her once living flesh, hoping that each kiss would bring her back.

Blood.

Blood!

BLOOD!

WHY IS ALL THAT I REMEMBER HER BLOOD?!

The prisoner sat in his cell, refusing to speak to anyone. I stormed up to the guard and demanded to be let in. He looked like he was about to protest, then saw the look in my eye. Without a word, he unlocked the door, and then scurried off to most likely tell his boss what I was doing. After watching his retreating form for a while I turned towards the door.

I wasn't subtle about my entrance. I kicked the door open, the hinges screeching in protest. The assassin simply looked up with a disinterested look. His total indifference to what was happening enraged me. I grabbed him by his arms and threw him into the wall. He hit it with a crack, something in him had broken. He coughed up blood and doubled over in pain.

Good.

I hauled him to his feet, one hand around his neck. He gasped and kicked as I squeezed. I eased off the pressure, only to deliver a series of punches to his rib cage. His ribs cracked and snapped from my blows. He coughed up more blood, splattering my face. Disgusted, I tossed him to the floor and pulled out a knife. His eyes bulged at the sight and he squirmed, trying to free himself from his bonds.

I put the knife to his throat, nicking it, and caused a drop of blood to trickle down the blade. I leaned close to his face and he stopped coughing. "Now, tell me what I want to know before I start skinning your eyelids. Who is Harkon? Who was your target? And more importantly, where is Harkon?" The vampire looked at me with what little defiance he had left. "Harkon is our master. He will take the world and sun from all he knows. As for our target, we were told to strike anyone important or," he gave me a slight grin, "anyone important to them." I punched him in the face, the dragon bone bashing his bones easily. He gurgled blood and started to choke, his face nothing but a bloody mess of teeth, flesh, and bone. "Where! I want to know where he is!" The assassin choked out a few words. "The S-Sea of G-Ghosts." He died as soon as he was finished and Galmar arrived with some guards.

"What did you do, Stormblade? You weren't supposed to kill him! Now any other information you could have acquired, assuming you did acquire any information from him, is now lost!" I shouldered past him and the guards, wiping the bastard's blood off my face. "I got what I need and I'm sure Ulfric will be satisfied. If he isn't, then he can stick his head in an Arcane Enchanter." Galmar stuttered a bit and then followed me, the guards left behind to deal with the assassin.

I stormed up to the Palace of Kings throne room. Ulfric was there, conversing with his steward Jorleif about the Dark Elves in the Gray Quarter. I strode over to the throne with a stiff back. I would not be sorry for what I did and I would tell him as much. Galmar was right behind me the whole time, trying to let Ulfric know what had happened. I assumed Ulfric knew though, from the hard look he gave me and the way his jaw was set. I stopped at the foot of the throne and looked at him with indifferent eyes. "So Dragonborn, you interrogated the prisoner?" "Yes, I…" "Bashed his face in after he was done!" I turned towards Galmar, who had spoken up. "So if you want to know anything, you better ask him." Ulfric looked at me. "Well then, what did you learn? And it better be some good information." I relayed to him all I had been told and added my own opinion. "I know of a few places that he could be in the Sea. With your assistance…" "I'll stop you right there Stormblade. I need to worry about Skyrim now. I need to secure our borders against the Empire and even if I wanted to help you, I couldn't! No one knows how to fight vampires. We just wouldn't know how to survive against them." "I could train them, teach them how." "What? By tutoring them on the road? Face it, my friend, you can never stay still. I'm sorry that I can't help you. But I wish you luck."

I sat in Candlehearth Hall, swigging an ale while I waited for the Companions to give the ok for our departure. They had stayed behind to help escort Ysolda's body home. The others had left, having to attend to their own tasks. They had all offered their condolences, wishing that they could be there for the funeral. Aela was the only one who had stayed behind. She had pulled the "former Companion" card and forced Delphine to allow her to come. I knew she wanted to speak with me. Well, I didn't want to speak and so had avoided her. I knew that I would have to face her when we arrived in Whiterun. But until then, I could sit here and get drunk while waiting to leave.

As I sat there, wallowing in misery and booze. The door to the inn opened and in stepped a group of guards who had just arrived back from patrol. They had run into some trouble obviously, you could tell by their appearance. Their hauberks were slashed, various parts of their bodies were bandaged, one man had lost his hand, another his eye, and they all looked as if they had seen the Daedric Lord Molag Bal himself.

"Sweet Talos! What happened to you men?!" shouted one of the patrons. The one missing an eye, a sergeant from his uniform, looked in the direction of the shout. "Ambush," he grunted, "by vampires." At once, people began clamoring for details. I placed my mug on the table I was sitting at, interested in hearing how they had survived. The sergeant quieted everyone down and told us what happened. "We were marching back from Riften when we saw smoke in the distance. We spurred our horses to find a burning cart. Next to it was a dead horse and an unconscious woman. The horse had been disemboweled by a sword, so its entrails were being picked at by a few hawks. We dismounted and approached cautiously. Our captain reached the woman and shook her to see if she was alright. As soon as he did though, two things happened. First the "woman" leapt up and tore his throat out, poor bastard lay gurgling blood where he fell. Secondly a bunch of the fanged bastards leaped from the gas and took down our poor horses. We charged at them, taking down two of them with our attack. The remaining four charged and encircled us, bashing shields aside and tearing men to pieces. There were thirty men in that patrol, we five were the only ones to make it." People gasped in fear and began to murmur. The sergeant held up his hands for quiet. "We were surrounded and we thought we were going to die. One of the bastards leaped at us, and would have killed another of us, when at that moment, a small arrow appeared in its chest. We all turned to see men and women in strange armor riding towards us, holding those new crossbow things. The vampires tried to put up a fight and were promptly slaughtered. Their bitch leader tried to take me hostage but I sacrificed my eye to allow one of these men to fire a bolt into her head." The sergeant pointed to his eye, which was covered with a piece of cloth and stained red with blood. "When the fight was over, we asked who these people were. They took off their helmets and we were surprised to see they weren't just human, but Elf, Orc, and Argonian too. Their leader, a Redguard by the name of Isron, told us they were the Dawnguard. They're some new group of vampire hunters after some vampire named Harkon." I started at the mention of that name. "Now I don't know about you guys but I'm going to join them. I've resigned my commission here and am taking my sword and shield and swearing it to the Dawnguard. If any of you want to join or go there for protection, they're at Fort Dawnguard in Dayspring Canyon." As he said this the former sergeant turned to the door and left on his journey. Conversation exploded through the room as people discussed what had just happened. I picked my mug back up off the table and drained it. Well, I thought, at least I know where to go for help after the funeral.