The man fell silently, his throat slit ear to ear. Maneuvering around the dead Thrall, Serana leapt atop one of the Clan's horses. The Volkihar stables were located on the mainland, next to the docks housing the several boats used for ferrying people to and from the island. Twelve horses were housed within the stables. Dexion was surprisingly light; she was able to heave him onto the horse with a minimal amount of effort. "Hold on." To her mild surprise the prideful old man didn't object and simply wrapped his arms around her waist.

She was unable to suppress her nerves. She hadn't ridden on a horse in a long time…how hard could it be? Before she could find out, Dexion gestured towards the other horses. "What are we going to do with them?" Serana's lips twitched into a smirk as a delightful idea flashed into her mind. With a flick of her wrist and a barely noticeable red flash she sent the horses into an absolute panic. The terrified beasts broke free from their pen almost instantly and fled in random directions, no two horses sticking close to each other.

"Huh…who would have thought that making a horse think a starved troll was sprinting after it would be that effective?" Achingly out of practice she dug her heels into her horse's sides. The animal whinnied unhappily and trotted forward several feet. By the blood! What had she done wrong? Did she kick it too hard? Not hard enough? Was she not hitting it in the correct place? Grabbing the Elder Scroll she shoved it into Dexion's hands. "Take this, I'm driving." The horse reared up in protest to her kicking it. "Though…I feel it's only fair to warn you old man, I'm…a bit rusty." She managed to get the horse into a lazy trot with a flick of the reigns. She smiled slightly. Ha! They always said you never forgot how to ride a horse!

"How rusty?" Dexion's slightly gravelly voice held all the amusement of an undertaker.

Serana winced; she had been hoping he wouldn't ask. "…four thousand years…"

The human spluttered in disbelief. "W-what? You're that old?"

For some reason she couldn't help feeling defensive, it wasn't like she'd asked to be locked in a blood be damned box! "If you don't count time spent in a stasis like prison, I'm only three hundred and six."

The man released a rasping laugh. "Only three hundred and six she says! Let me tell you girl! I hope I look that good when I'm three hundred and six!"

Serana smiled. She was glad she had taken Dexion with her, he might be old for a human but he seemed nice enough. "I hate to say it but I'm afraid your chance of looking as good as I do has long since passed."

"Bah, I never looked as good as you do."

She chuckled in response. "Flatterer."

"I have a question if you would indulge an old man's curiosity." She nodded. "Did you look like that before you became a Vampire or did the transformation make you more…beautiful?"

Serana shifted slightly uncomfortably. Was he flirting with her or just making conversation? "Um…I don't remember being a human very clearly but I'm pretty sure it just made me lose some pigmentation and get the eyes."

"I have another question if that's alright." She nodded again. "Why do some Vampires look like you, basically human I mean, and others look like…" He paused, trying to find a term that would avoid offending the woman who had saved his life.

"Monsters?" She asked with a slight frown.

"Yes."

"Cannibalism." Dexion looked at her strangely, they drank blood wasn't that basically cannibalism. As if sensing his questioning thoughts, she continued. "Drinking blood is one thing, it's what we're supposed to do, it's in our nature. Some Vampires develop a taste for the flesh of mortals and begin to eat it often, sometimes more often than blood. If they do so for a long enough period of time they begin to change, looking less and less like the mortals they used to be."

Dexion was silent in response. While he understood it rationally, hearing her talk about cannibalism like it was a perfectly acceptable practice was disconcerting.

"Personally I don't like it much, the blood is diluted by the flesh and mortals are all so different it's hard to find any consistency in the tenderness of the meat. Human's taste a bit like pork. Elves are very similar to humans, though they tend to be a bit…sweeter. I've never had a Khajiit." She released an amused snort. "And Argonians taste like chicken." She frowned, her face growing troubled. "Infants taste like fish apparently, though…" She seemed to realize how disturbing her topic of conversation was to her passenger and went silent without warning.

"You…do this often?"

Face flushed with shame she shook her head emphatically. "No! I've only done it a few times, I never liked it much, and I would never eat a child! It was more out of boredom than anything else." She flinched as she felt Dexion shift away from her in the saddle.

"You don't know what it's like…I…it…" She sighed shakily. "M-my father was always so angry when I refused. He hated it when I sympathized with mortals. I don't understand why we always seem to think we need to harm you. If you feed regularly enough you don't even hurt the one you feed from. Some of his hunters had kidnapped a family and enthralled them; they were going to be feeding stock and servants. They had an infant with them…"

Dexion stiffened, already able to see where this was going. "Normally hunters leave infants and young children where they were, sometimes they even drop them off at nearby towns if they aren't too far away. Though I'm sure some claim they do and just kill them out of spite. My father was displeased that they had brought the child back with them; after all it wasn't like we would actually feed it until it could be helpful to us. By the blood, even feeding from one when you've fed that same day risks killing the child!"

She shuddered, huddling in on herself. "I…made the mistake of suggesting that I could take the baby to Rorikstead, it's only an hour's ride from the stables. My father was outraged. The fact that I would actually go out of my way to help something so 'beneath us' was abhorrent in his eyes. My father gave me an ultimatum, either I would kill the child or he would. What was I supposed to do? Knowing him he would take his time, make the poor child suffer just to teach me a lesson."

She was silenced as a haunting, almost ethereal, howl sounded from the way they had come. Death Hounds had caught their scent…"We need to move faster." Muttered Dexion, casting a furtive glance over his shoulder.

With a low growl, Serana urged the horse into a gallop. "Hold on." Their horse leapt over a shrub that lined one side of the path, plunging into the darkened woods. To Dexion's human eyes they were rushing through a cramped forest at breakneck speeds, weaving between trees that loomed from thin air. For Serana the woods might as well have been lit by the midday sun. The majority of their pursuers would be thralls; the darkness of the woods would help her remain undetected.

"I hope you can see better than I can. If no-by the eight!" A three foot spike of ice soared past their heads; Serana sent a retaliatory one over her shoulder. "How have they caught up so quickly?"

Without warning the horse turned to the left, running down a steep incline. "That's not the main body of our pursuers, that's the border guard."

Dexion looked over his shoulder. From atop a horse a massive Vampire watched them flee, his unnatural eyes shining in the dark. Six Death Hounds paced back and forth next to him, eager to begin the chase. No verbal command was given but as one the Vampire and the dogs took off after their fleeing prey. "Can you fight?"

The human sent Serana an incredulous look. "I'm a scholar!"

"So that's a no?"

"That's a no!"

The mortal couldn't help glaring at the irritated Vampire as she muttered what sounded suspiciously like 'typical' under her breath.

A snarling Death Hound leapt at their horse. With a flick of her wrist Serana impaled it through the skull with an icicle before sending purple energies into its dead body. The recently deceased beast didn't even have time to collapse before it was spinning around and charging its former allies. Unprepared for one of their own to turn against them two of the beasts were occupied by the doubly undead creature and another tripped itself up. The unfortunate hound tumbled head over heels down the incline before smashing into a tree with a crunch. It did not get up.

Another beast leapt for their horse, a concentrated bolt of lightning obliterated its chest cavity. That was a relief; at least those monsters weren't much harder to kill than a normal dog.

A slight pull in her gut was the only warning she received as a portal opened up before her. Yanking on the reigns she was barely able to avoid the dark abyss on the other side and the beast that was emerging. Though it had been a long time since she seen one, she had no trouble in recognizing a Gargoyle. The beast was massive perhaps eight feet in height with a barrel chest. Its three fingered hands were a rusty red color. Whether that was a natural coloration or stains left behind from previous kills she was unable to determine. Tattered wings flexed on its back, despite their size the beast was too heavy for them to serve any practical purpose. Horns thicker than her calf curved from its temples over its head. Small black eyes glared at her from its ugly batlike face. Roaring savagely it charged.

This latest development was too much for her horse, the unfortunate creature panicked. Ignoring her direction it galloped away from the monstrous Gargoyle. "What was that?"

Still trying to regain control of the rebellious horse, Serana responded. "Gargoyle."

Something that felt an awful lot like stone slammed into her back and hurled her from atop the horse. She fell hard, tumbling a few times before coming to a stop. Several feet away, the Gargoyle landed on its feet. She sat up slowly still dazed. The beast settled its wings behind its back and turned to face her. Had it leapt and knocked her off her horse? Maybe those wings weren't quite as useless as she thought.

On the far side of the monster Dexion had managed to slow the horse down. The elderly human's eyes found hers as he wrestled with the stubborn beast. She was surprised to find genuine concern in his gaze. She narrowed her eyes at the man, he still had the Scroll, and she couldn't allow that to fall back into her father's hands. "Go!" A lightning bolt slammed into the Gargoyle's face. "I'll distract them!" For a moment Dexion held still, unable to make up his mind. The Gargoyle released an enraged roar and his mind was made up, with a final, respectful, nod he left the Vampire behind.

Unnatural energies flared to life in her palms as Serana circled the Gargoyle. Behind her she could clearly hear the remaining Death Hounds making their way towards her, no doubt accompanied by their master. If she was going down fighting they weren't taking her alive. She was not going to be her father's plaything.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, calming her fraying nerves as the Vampire and his Hounds entered the clearing. Her eyes opened. The Gargoyle charged.

()

Florentius came to a stop at the door Arkay had indicated. Personally he didn't see the point in prying information from Kaius, but Arkay had been insistent. Who would have thought a god was capable of being obnoxious? He knocked twice, listening with slight amusement as grumbling and shuffling sounded on the other side of the door. With the creaking of unoiled hinges, the door opened. Clearly Kaius had been sleeping, aside from his smallclothes he had only thrown on a baggy shirt.

His legs were as scar ridden as his face, and judging from what skin his disheveled shirt revealed his entire body was covered. Florentius was surprised; Arkay had not said anything about this…

"What!" Snapped Kaius, his patience wearing thin. Staring at his scars obviously made him uncomfortable.

"Arkay and I wanted to talk. May I come in?"

Kaius recoiled, blinking sleepily as he tried to make sense of Florentius' words. "Arkay…like the god?"

"Who else? After all, who would dare to name their child Arkay?"

The larger man ran a hand over his face. "Crazy son of a bitch…" He mumbled before sighing tiredly. "What do you want at this ungodly hour?"

"To talk, as I just said." He moved to step into Kaius' room and the larger man barred in his way. "May I come in?"

"No." The door slammed shut.

He frowned; Arkay hadn't warned him that he'd be this standoffish. "Then I guess I'll have to speak through the door." Said Florentius, raising his voice far more than was necessary. "I'd like to talk about the Vampire that you spa-"

The door flew open revealing a livid Kaius. The larger man grabbed Florentius by his shirt and dragged him into the room. "Shut up damn you!"

Brushing himself off, Florentius sent Kaius an unimpressed look. "So about this Vampire…"

"Shut up!" The large man was pacing agitatedly, running a hand over his short blond hair. "I'm going to kill Ingjard! She told you right? Or was it Beleval? I don't care what you think you know! It's wrong!"

"I assure you I'm not wrong, Arkay never lies."

"What?" Kaius stared at him in shock for several seconds, clearly not comprehending what he was saying.

"Arkay told me about her...and the Elder Scroll." Honestly, why do they always have such a hard time believing him?

"The Elder…the Elder Scroll! How in Oblivion do you know about that?"

Florentius sighed, was he being intentionally thick? "Arkay told me, as I've said several times." Kaius responded with an uncomprehending stare. "By the eight! How hard is it to believe that Arkay talks to me! He told me about the Elder Scroll and the Vampire woman."

"Now…I can hear you saying words, but it's like you're not putting them together in a way I can understand." Florentius groaned. How long did they have to dwell on this point? "Did you have a stroke?"

"What? No! I assure you, I am perfectly sane!"

"You think a god talks to you. A god." His voice raised several octaves as he flailed his arms in exasperation. "How is that sane?"

Enough! "How I know is beside the point, the point is that I do! Now, because I know, we are going to have a talk about why you chose to allow a Vampire to leave unmolested, with an Elder Scroll no less."

With an exhausted groan Kaius flopped onto his bed. "This has got to be a joke…"

Settling himself at the younger man's desk, Florentius eyes him curiously. He was far too animated to be a thrall, which meant he had allowed the woman to leave of his own free will. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse. "Why did you allow it to leave?"

"She didn't deserve to die."

That was…not the answer he had been expecting. "What do you mean?"

"She did nothing other than help me while we worked together; she even had the opportunity to let me die several times and always saved me. I don't know about you, but I don't repay being saved with a stab to the back."

His reasoning was sound, even if Arkay didn't agree with it…"Then why did you allow it to take the Elder Scroll?"

Kaius released a longsuffering sigh. "She needed it. If I had decided to relieve her of it we would have had to fight. One of us would have died as a result. And as I said, I wasn't about to repay her for her…kindness with a dagger in the back."

"So you allowed it, a Vampire, to keep an Elder Scroll? That seemed like solid reasoning to you?"

With a dry chuckle, Kaius sat up. "I'm talking to man that thinks a god speaks to him and I'm the one whose reasoning is questioned? Yep. Why not? Besides, they wouldn't be able to do anything with it. Not unless they had a Moth Priest."

Another sound point. "True…but I-What?"

Kaius raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior. "Are you talking with Arkay now?"

"They actually had a…and he what? Well that's wonderful…"

"Is he in the room with us?" He was grinning, far too amused for the situation they were in. "Can only you see him?"

"No! That would be ridiculous!" Said Florentius with a glare.

"You're speaking to me now? Aw…does your god friend no longer want to talk?"

"Be quiet! Now is no time for jokes."

"I beg to differ." Said Kaius earnestly. He pointed a finger at Florentius with a grin. "There is always time for jokes."

Florentius opened the door, stepping out into the hallway before he realized he had no idea where he was going. "Where is Isran's room?"

Kaius looked like someone had pulled the floor out from under him. "Why?"

"Because we need to talk to him!"

Kaius darted forward, putting himself in Florentius' way. "No we don't! He does not need to know any of this!"

"Ah, that's where it is." Arkay was so helpful sometimes. He ducked around Kaius making a beeline for Isran's quarters.

"No, seriously. He doesn't need to hear about this!"

"Yes, he does."

Kaius followed the smaller man desperately trying to come up with a way of stopping him. "But why?"

"Because the Vampires found a Moth Priest."

Kaius stopped in his tracks, stunned. "T-they what?" Noticing Florentius continuing without him he jogged to catch up. "Oi! How in Oblivion do you know they found a Moth Priest? And don't you dare say Arkay told you!"

The other man shrugged. "Arkay told me."

Hands grabbing at his hair, Kaius did his best to rip it out as he released a frustrated yell. Unfortunately it was too short for him to do anything more than claw his scalp.

A door to their right opened and a bleary eyed Beleval peaked her head out. "Kaius?" She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Whareyoudoing?"

"Nothing, go back to bed."

The elf yawned expansively, stretching her arms over her head with a groan. "Mmm…okay." The door closed and Kaius could hear her bare feet padding back to bed.

He made it several feet before something registered in his somewhat overwhelmed mind. "That wasn't her room…" She wouldn't…would she? "Is she sleeping with Agmaer?" Kaius turned around, readying himself to get to the bottom of this mystery. After all, if Beleval was sleeping with a man less than half her age it would give Kaius an endless source of ammunition against her. He also should probably look out for her emotional wellbeing…that's what friends do right? Regardless he needed to find out…for the good of all.

"You are quite easily distracted aren't you?" Kaius closed his eyes as he remembered why he was awake at this awful hour. "You can interrogate your friend about her sexual exploits later." With an internal sigh, Kaius followed the older man. If he harassed him enough maybe he could convince him to rethink telling Isran.

Ah…the things he gave up for the greater good.

()

The night was dark as pitch; storm clouds had rolled down from the mountains blocking all light from the earth. Thunder boomed in the distance, the footsteps of an angry god on the hunt. Lightning followed the thunder, the periodic flashes of light illuminating the world with an unreal uniformity, painting a picture more detailed than any artist's canvas. The wind had picked up, stirring the naked trees into a frenzy, their bare branches crackling and hissing in the night air. The panting of a horse was audible beneath the din; its rider was silent as the grave. Its prey was not silent, barreling through the underbrush with no regard given to stealth. Behind the horse and its rider, a massive beast roared as it tore the forest apart to find its food.

Serana darted through the woods, the mounted Vampire and his Gargoyle pet hot on her heels. Even to her Vampiric eyes it was dark, the periodic flashes of light keeping her eyes from properly adjusting to the dark. A branch whipped across her cheek, leaving a small trail of blood. She stuck to the denser areas of the woods, where the horse was unable to follow and the Gargoyle had to waste time tearing through the foliage. Despite this the mounted Vampire was keeping pace, settling for following her outside of the dense plants.

Behind her the Gargoyle released a frustrated roar as it smashed its way through a tree. The beast might look like an animal of some sort but it was an artificial construct, what appeared to be flesh was in reality stone. The irony that this Vampire was using her mother's creations to hunt her had not escaped her; at least the Death Hounds had been dispatched. A tree limb as wide as her thigh soared past her head causing her to flinch away. It appeared the Gargoyle had realized it wasn't going to catch her without slowing her down somehow…wonderful. A second branch, larger than the first, smashed into a tree in her path.

She darted to the side to avoid splinters and other potential hazards sent into the air from the impact. The Vampire took advantage of her distraction, an icicle piercing her knee. Her leg was unable to support her weight with the severe injury and she tumbled to the ground. The Gargoyle picked up the pace, shredding through the underbrush as it neared its prey.

A beast larger than she could fathom snarled, its bass tones filling the air accompanied by a flash of light. A massive oak tree was illuminated briefly by the lighting. It was gnarled and ancient, easily as old as her. At one point it had almost been uprooted, its roots having almost been pulled free from the earth. They now formed an almost cagelike construct.

Conscious of the ever nearing sound of branches snapping and wood splintering, she began to drag herself towards the tree. It would not save her; she was not so deluded as to think that it could. It would slow the beast down however, and give her a chance to heal her injury. In an effort to slow the approaching juggernaut she sent a burst of dark energies over her shoulder. If anything this served to anger the beast and the frequency of the snapping increased as it snarled.

Her left hand grabbed one of the trees roots and she pulled herself forward. Beneath the thunder she could hear the Vampire chuckling to himself. The wind changed direction, bringing with it the smell of water. The sound of distant rain whispered through the forest, growing louder as the storm settled overhead.

In Serana's experience there were two types of rain. There was normal rain, everyday rain. Life giving and relaxing, it soothed you, even when it was in the form of a storm. Then there was wet rain. The type that seemed intent on making you as miserable as possible, the type obviously sent by some deity you had angered in some way, shape, or form. This particular rain was the latter, and almost instantly Serana was soaked to the bone.

The ground seemed to liquefy as the hard packed dirt beneath her transformed rapidly into mud. Well…it was official…her clothes were ruined. She sighed internally at the thought. Was now really the time to worry about how she looked? The answer was given to her in the form of a crazed roar, a crazed roar that was far too close for comfort. Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself under the tree. Squirming as the too small hole threatened to leave her stuck.

No! If she was going to die she was fine with that. She had come to terms with that. But there was no way in Oblivion she was going to be killed because her blood be damned hips were too wide to fit into a blood be damned hole! She had always been fond of her hips, they accentuated her thin waist well. If they killed her she might die of shame! Her legs did their best to push her though while her hands grabbed at anything they could. She would not die like this!

A terrifying realization crossed her mind. The sound of the Gargoyle destroying the forest had stopped. There was only one reason for it to do that…

With a final burst of desperate energy she popped through the hole (she had lost a layer of skin or two and had even further ruined her clothes but on the whole she considered it a victory). While she had gotten her body clear she had failed to account for her cloak, and without warning she was dragged towards the opening with a choked 'hurk'. Her head smacked the roof of her temporary shelter and her back slammed into the wall as the Gargoyle tried to drag her back out through the hole. If she hadn't been frantically fiddling with her clasp she would have been amused. She had barely fit when squeezing through horizontally; there was no way she could possibly fit vertically!

Her neck cracked uncomfortably as the Gargoyle pulled harder. If she didn't get this damned cloak off the beast would snap her neck and haul her broken body out anyways! The clasp unlatched just as the monster tried to grab her body. She dove to the far side of her shelter, barely avoiding the bloodstained claws. Releasing an enraged roar, the monster began tearing at the tree. From what she could tell it wasn't even bothering with making the hole bigger, it was trying to uproot the tree completely. Despite the situation she snorted in amusement. There was no way if could do that…could it?

When the tree began to groan in protest her amusement died. How strong was this thing?

She could hear the Vampire's amused laughter as he watched the scene unfold.

She was going to die.

She could hear the rain as it did its best to make her death even more miserable than it needed to be.

She was going to die in a hole in the ground.

She could hear the Gargoyle snarling as it strained to get at its food.

She was going to die soaking wet in a hole in the ground.

She could hear the near constant thunder of the storm directly overhead.

She was going to die covered in mud, soaking wet, in a hole in the ground.

She could hear the footsteps of the convoy of soldiers just outside the woods.

She was going to-wait…she was not going to die…

She smiled. There were two things a man always believes about a woman, one that she is weak and two that she finds him attractive. Soldiers even more so than the average man. Eyes filling with well practiced tears Serana opened her mouth.

The resulting scream could have woken the dead.

()

Erald Elf-Killer was a drunk. He knew it, his friends knew it, and people passing him on the street knew it. He was also a captain in the Stormcloaks. Not out of any real loyalty towards his homeland, he was a Stormcloak because the Empire kicked him from the army after the incident with the Dark Elf. The whole thing had been blown out of proportion! How was he to know she was twenty and that that was considered little more than a child to Mer? What sort of man says no to a Dark Elf when she hits on you?

He ran a hand over his eyes in an attempt to rid them of rainwater; the attempt was doomed to futility. He was being sent along with three dozen other 'patriots' to reinforce Fort Greenwall, Ulfric had apparently received intelligence it was going to be attacked in the near future. Everything about him advertised his utterly miserable condition to anyone looking. He was hunched over, his bear skin cloak wrapped tightly around his shivering body. Every flash of lightning and rumble of thunder sent twinges of agony through his hungover mind. A particularly loud boom echoed throughout the valley. With a miserable sigh he took a swig from his flask. How much did he need to drink to forget his hangover? Just about the only upside for him was provided by his rank, he was riding a horse while the others were walking.

"Oi Elf-Lover, why are we traveling in this deluge?"

Erald sighed. The story behind his joining of the Stormcloaks had been spread amongst the men, no doubt by one of the diehards trying to discredit him. The more xenophobic of the Stormcloaks viewed him as little better than a traitor. It had been their 'clever' idea to change his name from Elf-Killer to Elf-Lover. To be honest he didn't particularly like either name. He had earned the title Elf-Killer during the war against the Dominion. He had an…affinity for killing and they had been fighting Elves. It didn't a genius to think up the origin of his name. He didn't even dislike Elves, they were people like anyone else. He wouldn't have slept with the Dark Elf if he hated her kind!

"Because your rightful High King commanded it."

"How do we know he did? For all we know you're leading us into an ambush!"

"Ingmar…" Erald took another swig from his flask. "…shut up." The wind howled through the trees, causing the hungover Nord to flinch. Why? Why did it have to be so loud out?

From his position on foot, Ingmar glared at his superior. "Why are you even here Elf-Lover? You aren't a true Nord. The only reason you're no longer with the Empire is because even they were disgusted by your attraction to Elves."

The howl of the wind grew in volume. Erald frowned…was that the wind? "Why Jarl Ulfric tolerates your presence I cannot fathom."

"Be quiet Ingmar." Erald listened intently, the howl was not a howl it was a scream.

"Did you lie to him, hmm? Did you tell him it was all a mistake?"

"Ingmar! Shut your worthless mouth!" The storm lulled momentarily and a shrill, terrified, scream pierced the night air.

Erald was off of his horse and running into the forest before he had time to think, Ingmar and several of his men following behind him. Upon entering the forest's boundary he came across his first problem, it was black as pitch in the starless night. Lightning flashed and a nightmarish scene was revealed for a split second.

A mammoth tree stood forlornly before him, its naked branches reaching skyward. It appeared to have been almost uprooted at some point. Terrified screams were emanating from beneath its cage like roots. Some…thing was attacking the tree, attempting to lift its immense weight. Judging from the cracking and groaning of the wood it was actually somewhat successful. Perhaps a dozen feet away a man was perched atop a horse, watching the beast with a grin.

Some poor soul was trapped beneath that tree, and whatever that monster was was after her. Erald Elf-Killer was not a great man; he wasn't even a good man. He was a drunk, an alcoholic, with a violent temper and more than his fair share of bloodlust…and he was not going to let that monster get its prey.

Roaring a guttural battle cry he charged towards the hulking beast, his men following closely behind him.

Lightning illuminated the area. The beast was turning towards them, massive fangs bared.

Thunder rumbled in the sky. He ran onwards, praying to all the gods that he wouldn't trip in the dark.

Lightning flashed, bathing the world in white light.. The man on a horse was backing away, the beast was charging.

The sound of a god clapping his hands caused him to flinch. He could hear a horse galloping away and the heavy footfalls of the beast.

Flash. The beast had already cleared twenty of the thirty feet separating them, he didn't stop his charge.

Boom. He could see a massive black form bearing down on him, he swung his warhammer.

Flash. His blow smashed into the beast's temple, it barely broke stride.

Boom. With the force of a rolling boulder the beast checked him out of the way, the Stormcloaks rained blows upon the beast.

Flash. A Stormcloak was dead; a second's head was ripped from his shoulders.

Boom. His soldiers roared in rage, the beast roared right back.

Flash. A clawed foot was rushing towards his head; he rolled out of the way.

Boom. He swung blindly with his hammer, smashing it into the beast's knee.

Flash. The beast fell to its knees, he climbed to his feet.

Boom. A sword stabbed at the beast, the blade broke against stone hard skin.

Flash. The beast was standing again, hand stained red as it emerged from Arnorn's back.

Boom. A bloodcurdling shriek emerged from the beast's mouth; a wet crunch signaled its hand pulling free from Arnorn.

Flash. Roaring in rage he smashed his hammer into the beast's head, it stumbled backwards.

Boom. Ingmar's axe cut the monster's legs out from under it; it fell onto its back with a scream.

Flash. Its hand grabbed a Stormcloak's ankle; it effortlessly pulled her closer and sunk its fangs into her leg.

Boom. His hammer crunched against the beast's skull, it released the woman to scream in pain.

Flash. Ingmar's axe followed his hammer, slicing into the beast's open mouth.

Boom. His hammer struck again, the beast's head split open like a broken boulder.

Flash. The body of the monster lay unmoving, the battle was over.

Panting in exhaustion, Erald glanced at his surviving Stormcloaks. Thirty six had attacked the monster, twenty nine remained. He wasn't sure if that was acceptable loses. He was trained in fighting mortals, Men, Mer, or Beast, not monsters. He was not trained for this.

Lighting filled the clearing again and a woman appeared in their midst. She was fairly tall, her skin pale and her hair dark. She was covered head to toe in mud and other debris, the rain heavy rain causing it to run down her body. Despite the filth covering her, Erald was struck with a single resounding realization when he saw her.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

Her clothes were little more than tattered rags after her flight through the forest. Oddly, she didn't shiver from the cold. Shock he reasoned, it must be the shock. He shrugged his bear skin cloak off his shoulders and took a hesitant step forwards, he didn't want to spook her. She obviously understood his intention and smiled. Erald's heart skipped a beat.

By the Nine she was gorgeous…

She snatched his cloak from his hands and began to walk from the forest and towards the road. In a daze, Erald followed her. Unsure what was wrong with their leader, the Stormcloaks warily headed towards the road as well. She came to a stop next to his horse, studying the beast curiously. He held back, waiting for her to address him. "Is he yours?"

By Talos even her voice was beautiful. "Yes."

Her eyes, a verdant green, met his. "May I have him?" Somehow, despite not raising her voice, he could hear her perfectly over the raging storm.

"Of course." What sort of man would he be to deny her his horse? He was a healthy man, he could walk.

His response earned him a second smile. "My thanks." With almost inhuman grace, she swung herself into the saddle. "I have a question." He leaned forward. "Where do the Dawnguard live?"

The Dawnguard…who were the Dawnguard? When he paused she frowned. No! He didn't want that! In a flash he remembered. "The Vampire Hunters?"

She nodded.

"They live in a cave down the road a ways. Follow the signs for Riften. There'll be a waterfall to the left of the road and a bridge to cross the stream. On a hill opposite the falls there's a cave. Take it and you'll get there."

She frowned again, this time in mild confusion. "How do you know all that?"

How did he know that again? Ingmar…that was it. "The sister of one of my men is a member; he's been sending her supplies fairly regularly."

She smiled fully, white teeth flashing in the dark. "My thanks…hero." Slight hesitation showing her lack of skill, she turned the horse around and headed in the direction Erald had indicated.

Erald Elf-Killer watched as the love of his life rode away and into the night. He stood there, staring into space for several minutes. It was only when Ingmar began to question his mental stability that he had the surviving Stormcloaks continue their march.

It was over an hour later before he began to wonder why he had given the woman his horse. After all, he'd saved her life, wasn't that enough?

It was only several hours after that that he remembered he was a happily married man…

I'm surprised, I actually liked Erald Elf-Killer. When I made him he was just going to be a generic Stormcloak leader who Serana would charm...he might need to make another appearance at some point.

Next chapter will be the long awaited reunion of Serana and Kaius. How will Isran react to the news he's been lied to? Does Florentius actually talk to a god? Did Beleval sleep with Agmaer? The answers to all these questions and more will be in the next installment of...DAWNFALL!

Wow I'm overtired...I think I'm going to sleep now.

See you all next time, please read and review.