Authors Notes: I don't like this chapter…:C Probably because its finally starting to get serious. Ah, character development is approaching. Anyway there will be intervals of third person writing from now on. Once you see the capitalized X's then its in third person, little x's are for Nerah/Natilie/the main chic with messy hair, first person. My apologies for the wait. I have recently been playing Oblivion on my PC and discovered the wonders of mods. We all know Oblivion has as awesome plot, awesome mods, an awesome disrobe spell mod, and an awesome vampiric Count I like to cast it on and laugh while he chases you around the castle in his skivvies XD. So, naturally, my hands have been a bit tied.
Envy
Chapter twenty: Step One
I know its going to be cold out so I will just have to bring a cloak. Pity that, you cant really be seductive if your covered in a thick shall. I'll make due I suppose, after all I've had worse predicaments and weather conditions when trying to woo someone.
I'm a creative girl so surely I'll get by.
Perhaps having to cover myself up will make this more of a challenge. Wont that be fun! I'll have to use every trick in my book to get him: flip my hair, bat my lashes, force a blush, laugh at whatever he says until my lungs pop…you know the girly cons.
Vampire or not these tricks I use have been perfected; I make it a personal goal to know how to manipulate men, woman, mer and beast. Men though is my specialty, probably because I enjoy doing it the most.
Thinking like this always takes me back to when I killed dear Peter. He was so simple to corner too now that I think about it…Honestly, what kind of idiot would let themselves be tied to a bed when the person with the rope curses them daily?
Peter, Peter, Peter…what a poor fool you were.
I cant help but to smile when thinking on it. He was always so eager and…well…stupid. Boastful too, you would think he was the man whore of Tamriel by the way he talked. Too bad the only girl in Chorrol he couldn't get was me. But that was only because I loved torturing him and his dear 'mummy' too much to give in. Sad to know that he was the last naked person I saw. Very depressing sight, it will forever be burned into my retinas.
I wonder why I'm even thinking about him right now. I should be happy, not dwelling over that pitiful look in his eyes as I closed the door of my room behind me. What a horrible way to go. Tied to a bed, stark naked, thinking you were going to get laid then it all goes up in flames…quite literally.
Ah well, I hope his death made Sithis happy, it sure makes me even to this day.
But back to more pressing and important matters…where's my cloak?
xxxx
It was quiet out in the chapel graveyard, and damn cold too. Lucky for me winter is almost over. I'll admit it's a bit warmer than usual. But I digress, I need to pay attention to other things at the moment. Like where Vicente is. If he doesn't show I swear I'll…do something terrible. I don't know what yet, but I'll think of something.
"Your getting better at being quiet. Without my gift it would have taken me a decade to find you."
I turned to see Vicente who was standing over by a rather large stone angel statue with a smile on his face. I was a bit surprised that he wasn't trying to conceal his appearance at all. All he wore was a dark cloak, the hood wasn't even up, you think it would be. Maybe he has a death wish.
"Your in the open!" I hissed striding forward. "What if someone see's you?"
Vicente quirked a pale brow at me but smiled. "Although I am flattered that you care for my safety it is not needed. If someone decides to give me a second glance then I shall have my weekly dinner."
Weekly dinner…I ought to fatten Vicente up somehow. Eating once a week cant be healthy, even for a vampire.
I looked around the graveyard and pulled my hood further down my face. Call me crazy, but I don't like standing near a chapel anymore. I hope we start walking soon, this place is giving me the creeps and I'm a damn murderer - that's saying something. Not to mention the entire time I have been out here I've felt watched. It might have been Vicente, but I could swear I thought I heard someone scurry away minutes before he popped up.
Who knows? Maybe it was a priest and I scared him…I do that often.
Unintentionally for Sithis sake! I don't want a preacher afraid of me. Having them constantly cross themselves as you walk by gets annoying after awhile.
"Sooo where are we going?" I asked, quickly forgetting about my priestly-paranoia.
"Well I wanted to talk to you outside of the Sanctuary for once sister. Since you're here, which is all I wanted, I think you should be the one to decide." I felt myself smirk before I could stop it. Of course he would want me here, I'm me.
"Around the shops. I haven't been out for awhile and I need to stretch my legs. Not everyone can spend their days in one position reading a book you know."
It was Vicente's turn to smirk. "Perhaps you should. Reading is a very enjoyable way to obtain knowledge." I laughed and shook my head. Silly Vicente, I don't want to read if I don't have too. Seeing as I know mostly everything, I never have too.
"I hope your not calling me stupid because I'd rather live the adventure then read about it. Its cowardly to live in a tome. What kind of excitement happens to a reader? None." For some reason his expression dropped, his eyes softened and shoulders slumped. I know he likes his books but he shouldn't take it so personally, its only my opinion after all.
Of course my opinion is very important but he has his own too.
"Sister, lets just walk, hmm? I'd rather not stand idly in the graveyard." I snorted and walked over to him, making sure to flick my hood back and tousle my hair. "Tell me about it. These places give me the creeps."
xxxx
"What did you want to talk to me about anyway Vicente? And how come we couldn't speak in the sanctuary?" I looked up at him with a smirk. "Got some racy gossip?" We had been walking in silence for a short time now and it got annoying very quickly, I had to stop it, so I would pester him to speak.
The streets were dark and cold, the only light was from the dimly lit oil lamps. Everyone in Cheydinhal was sleeping, as they should be. Its what, three in the morning?
Vicente sighed heavily and for a moment more said nothing. Just for the record, I may be an assassin but I hate silent interludes in conversation. "Impertinent girl." He finally muttered while shaking his head slowly. "No, this conversation has no sexual content. But strangely enough this does lead me to my first topic." I nodded and waited as patiently as I could. "The latest gossip, non vulgar mind you, is currently all about Mathieu Bellamont. You remember him correct?"
Wow, Vicente sure thinks I'm stupid. Of course I remember Mathieu, he was only at our sanctuary a couple weeks ago. Poor Mathieu. I truly pity him now that I know what happened to his girlfriend.
"He's been promoted and permanently moved from our sanctuary." He prattled, the conversation quickly leading me to astonishment. "He can come to visit, or rest if he is currently on a nearby contract, but he will no longer hail from us; his contracts will be given to him at his new location and he is under the rule of another Speaker."
I gaped. "Wha? Why? I was just getting to like him too. Where has he gone? Could I…perhaps visit him?"
Vicente chuckled and turned more to me. "Ah, I see you've taken up a fondness to him. I expected that. He was one of Lucien's favorites too. Mathieu was always very efficient in his work, and more importantly, abided by the tenets. To this day I hear him quote our holiest of tomes…well I suppose I wont hear him anymore. Not any time soon."
Frowning I slowed my pace. I wanted to know more. This is not just a little promotion, but a movement. I can feel it in my bones. Something big is going on here, why else would Vicente be telling me this outside of the Sanctuary? "So what happens now brother? What becomes of our home? We are lacking a sibling. Does that mean our defenses are low?"
He did not smile nor frown, Vicente continued to look straight ahead. "Yes, I suppose you could say that, but our home is not under any imminent threat so we are safe. But this does mean a great change…another great change." He was silent again for a moment but turned to me in earnest the next.
Assassins and their mood swings…
"The powers of the Hand are shifting." He stated lowly. "This does not bode well. Especially under certain circumstances.-" He stopped again and looked at me gravely. "I know your wondering why I am telling you all this, child. But hear me. I know you Natilie, and I know more about you and your history than you yourself do." I blinked. Obviously this information is important as he feels the need to use my other name. I hung unto his every word…
"You are someone I can trust, and…warn. I fear the worst. I have never seen such a Hand…our Speakers fight so. They have divided into smaller segments. They no longer act like the five brothers, but as each individual finger."
"Why?" I asked quickly before he could continue. "Why do they fight?"
"They are afraid. What with the recent murdering of our family members, and sudden old rivals coming forth from ash, they are petrified but dare not to show it. They pin their fears on each other. Lucien is no different. Indeed not, and because of this he has gotten our home in quite the bind."
"What do you mean?"
His shoulders slouched slightly. "Our sanctuary had finally become normal once more. We had recovered from the sudden loss of our members and finally gained you. Now that all means nothing. Once again our siblings shall be fearful of one another."
Huh?
"I have much to tell you sister, but to sum it up…" He hesitated. "Lucien has to start recruiting again. Only this time he is not the one picking a potential member. The Hand has already given him a name, and it's the most foolish name…"
I was baffled. To come into the Dark Brotherhood thinking Lucien Lachance is the 'Man' then suddenly hear he's being told what to do by his other siblings is more than strange. I thought my Speaker had the power to…wait, did I just say my Speaker? Hmm, anyway I thought he had the power to pick and choose who he wanted in his sanctuary. What kind of role is Speaker if your being bossed around?
Pfft, I better not ever get promoted.
"Who is he going to recruit Vicente?"
"The arena Grand Champion…"
…Immediately I burst into laughter. "Vicente, what a funny Breton you are!"
"Nerah stop laughing, this is no laughing matter. I'm very serious, we are going to have some obnoxious arena rat in our home. That is, of course, if Lucien succeeds. If you ask me this idea is more than just stupid… its completely idiotic and I cant tolerate it. Lucien may be skilled but its just foolish to send a Speaker to see some random skilled fighter who really didn't commit any murder!"
Wait what?! I had to barbeque my stepbrother to get into the Dark Brotherhood! Some random drunk with a sword gets an invite for free?! Its an outrage…its humiliating and its mocking what the Dark Brotherhood stands for! And WHY do I care so much!? I have no idea! "He's not even a murderer?" I growled. "How can this even be tolerated? Where's the wrath of Sithis when you need it?"
"I do not know. Things are changing and that's all that can be said. We are a family, as such we must stick together, but I cant stand this. No longer do I have any say either. I have argued my point constantly, but I am only an Executioner; barley a pawn, and can do nothing."
"That's not true." I said lamely. "What about the Night Mother? Is she real, wont she help us?"
He put a gentle hand on my shoulder and we turned down an alley. Vicente leaned close to my ear and whispered, "I don't think she will. Not now…not yet. Our Lady works in mysterious ways." I simply nodded as we continued further down the cramped alley. "I still hold dear to our Lady and Father but I believe they are testing us in some way. Everything is happening now so we all must act, do our part and learn from it."
The leather from my gloves began to groan from my constant flexing fingers. I may love drama, but not so much when I am intimately involved and not in control.
Finally we stopped walking, and I looked to our surroundings in distain. Ugly alleys.
"I am going off to Skingrad to see some family there. I need to keep the bonds between we assassins as close as possible. Our Speakers may fight but we must stick together." I agreed, knowing from recent conversations with Vicente that he has seen hard times in the Brotherhood before. If anyone knows how to stay safe during such a precarious power shift its him.
"I also have to meet a friend of mine," He continued nonchalantly. "His influence may be helpful somewhere along the line. Plus he's having some…lady trouble, poor man. It is my duty to help him as well through his strife."
I laughed. I was sad to hear about Vicente going off, but I knew he had us of the Brotherhood in mind as he went. He like a knight on a holy mission, off to safe our religion and whatnot.
"It seems like everyone is going through strife nowadays Vicente. All we're missing is gates to Oblivion itself opening up! Icing on the cake eh?"
Vicente smiled. "I wont be around when that happens. I better not be in any case. Sweet Sithis, that's all we need." He shook his head as though trying to shake off the idea and turned his attention back to me…Good. "Well, now that I have told you the bad news and how we are to cope, I think its only fair if you were to ask me any questions you may have. We've got time, and I would like to hold a more uplifting conversation than continue to dwell on our seemingly uncomfortably dark future."
I couldn't help my smirk. Any man on Nirn should learn to not let me ask whatever I want, because I will do just that, to their discomfort.
XXXX
On the very edge of the Imperial City's Market District a lone mer walked sulkily with his hood pulled up. It was dark and cold, and the poor Dunmer was caught again in the bitter rain. He supposed that the weather was more tolerable than walking about in the daylight. As much as the Grand Champion loved his fans he despised their praise.
Unknown to all his loyal crowds and watchers, he had secrets so dark it would twist all their minds.
Murder. The Nightblade was used to it. But this time he knew something more sinister would become of it. All his life he was surrounded by death, and even now as he walked the streets somberly he stank of it. Since his boyhood in Morrowind slaughtering innocents was no shunned practice, but an honorable profession. His entire life was built around this moment, this one death that would catch unholy eyes. Yet he was afraid.
He knew that killing his friend: The Grey Prince, was the final straw. Once he stood over the Orcs lifeless body he felt shivers run up his spine and a cold prickle on the back of his neck. This was it and he knew it. No longer would he be watched from the shadows and named a simple combatant, but a cold-blooded killer.
It was strange to him. He knew this day would come once he ventured to Cyrodiil - constantly killing in the arena for profit would not go unnoticed for long - but that did not stop his insides from squirming frantically.
It had been days since he killed his good friend and trainer for seemingly fame - his good deed to put the half-breed Orc to death as he wished would go unnoticed - but every night just as he laid down to sleep he felt eyes upon his back.
He was being carefully watched and considered.
With a nervous hand the Dunmer pushed open the door to local tavern and stepped inside. Immediately he was greeted by the warmth and comfort of the inn, sadly though it did little to calm his nerves.
"Ah, welcome back Gavinn." The proprietor of the Merchants Inn - and his current landlord - called. "Thought you weren't comin'. I was just about to close up and head off to bed myself."
Gavinn smiled as genuinely as he could and strode over to the counter. His relationship with his shelter provider was a sacred one indeed. "Sorry about that, Velus. Just needed a walk is all."
The barkeep laughed and already began to ready the Champions favorite drink. "Oh right. Fighting all day in the arena isn't enough exercise." He pushed the drink over to the mer who gratefully took it and placed several gold coins on the counter.
"Not for this mer it isn't." Gavinn said pointedly with a smirk. "Cheers." He finished his drink quickly and after a few minutes of forced polite talk he excused himself and went to retire.
Gavinn stepped into his little room and sighed. Out of all the money he made from fighting he could only keep a paltry sum. He had many debts to pay but luckily the Nightblade was left with enough to keep food in his belly, clothes on his back, and a warm bed to sleep in. Sadly though, the money was quickly running out.
Once he checked the door and little window and was satisfied with the locks, he dropped his pack onto the floor and flicked back his hood, revealing a very shiny head of silvery-white hair. (1)
XXXX
Out of all the races…it just had to be a Dunmer.
Lucien Lachance stood in a little room of the Merchants Inn with a scowl set on his face. The past few days had been torment, his week had been made up of nothing but quarrels and bickering between the Black Hand. Everyone of the sacred five had been on edge once the news of another family member went missing. Only this time it had been worse, it was not a lowly murderer who had been killed, but a most sacred courier.
It was bad news. Although they all mourned the passing of any sibling there was a much different reaction when the messenger had been shot.
This meant that their letters had been intercepted and possibly could have been in the past as well. If such documentation got into the hands of the legion the then it gave all the more reason to worry. But so far nothing had come of their missing scrolls, making each member ill at ease.
These papers that had gone missing were laden with detailed murders, the assassins name who completed each task, and the cities from where both victim and Brother hailed.
It had been Lucien whom spoke out boldly against the Hand and said, rather rudely, "We must find another way to keep our information both documented and secret. This paper routine, these Dead Drops, shall be the death of us all. May I ask who the fool was to create such a method?"
He had been angry. Both Antoinetta Marie and Nerah Vlando of his sanctuary had been mentioned in a brief report to the Listener on their status progression. But his anger had quickly faded to masked embarrassment when his sister: Speaker Arquen, gave a suggestive cough while motioning to the Bosmer Listener himself.
Never shrinking, Lucien tried his best to apologize without actually saying sorry. He failed miserably.
The Listener was outraged, saying that the Dead Drop method had been useful since he became Listener…a long time indeed. In a sentimental way Lucien had felt sorry for him. The mer had been Speaker for decades and so was set in his ways. However, his ways may have done well in the past but Lucien was not the only one who felt it time for change.
"Honorable Listener, please." Arquen had interjected through Ungolim's raving. "Speaker Lucien only meant to say that these methods are a bit outdated. Perhaps we can try something new. If we put our heads together-"
"Try something new indeed!" Ungolim snapped, glaring daggers across the table at the Imperial Speaker. "What the Brotherhood is currently lacking is strength. We must recruit newer, stronger, members and teach them the way of the assassin. Thus we shall have less siblings and less paper work that could end up in the wrong hands." He concluded with an angry pounding fist to the table, nearly making one cranky Dunmer Speaker's ale spill.
The Khajiit Speaker sitting on the Listeners right had opened his mouth to oppose this method, but soon thought better of it and shook his head sadly instead.
All the Speakers knew something grave was happening. Contracts were quickly becoming scarce within the sanctuaries. With that and the recent deaths of family members it was a certainty that something was very wrong. Ungolim's new found anger only gave them further reason for this, they all had secretly come to the conclusion the their Lady was growing silent.
But before anymore words could have been spoken, the Listener had made up his mind and commanded the Cheydinhal Speaker to recruit whom he thought would flourish in the Dark Brotherhood.
So here he was, and in the bed not ten feet away lay his possible sibling.
This Dunmer had killed many within the arena, but combatants were often overlooked and were rarely recruited, more often then not they were never considered. The Night Mother did not chose her children idly, but according to the Listener she gave this idea her blessing.
His back round was…sketchy. That made Lucien all the more irritated. Never before had he approached a possible member that he knew nothing about…it was stupid. The only information that he could acquire during his few days of observation was that the mer was thirty-two; which was only little more than a twenty years old in Dunmeri years, and that he had lived in Morrowind all his life up until little under a year ago. (2)
Of course Lucien had used his notorious gift of persuasion to find out more about his life in Morrowind - little good all that trouble did for him…
Apparently the ash-born, Gavinn, had an older sister and two dead parents. Lucien did not know how the father had died but he did learn that the young, stupid, elf had killed his mother during birth.
"An omen indeed." Lucien Lachance mused darkly as he took another silent step forward. He could already tell that this one was careless, there wasn't even a visible weapon nearby and as a champion he surely had enemies. "Cant please all the people, Dunmer." The Speaker already had one child on his plate to deal with, how was he to cope with two? One being a outlander no less. (3)
Finally after much irritable consideration, Lucien squared his shoulders, forced a smile and readied himself for the worst. Mer or not this was a potential brother, and Lucien could play nice for a reasonable amount of time. "Wake up, my Brother." He announced rather loudly in the already Silenced room. "For we are of kin and you mustn't ignore your family, its rude. One might question your upbringing."
Gavinn shot up on the bed, his covers flying off and a spell readying itself in his hand. He was alert but sleep shown clearly on his face, that grogginess none can conceal. His red eyes darted to the Speakers face, to the silver long sword at his hip, and back up to the smile now twisting along his lips. "Who?…explain yourself now."
The mer got to his feet, standing only several inches shorter the now maliciously grinning Speaker. Lucien heard the quaver in his voice, he had the upper hand, the little grey-head was afraid. "In due time, dear child. In due time. But first an introduction…I am Lucien Lachance, a Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood." He paused only for a moment to revel in the aghast look on the boys face - one of his favorite parts of the job.
And to notice that outlandish piercing on the Dunmers nose…
Lucien would have given his usual bow had that wicked looking Shock spell not been there; he cocked his head to it. "Lets not shall we? There is no need for violence. Even though you have a liking for it I suggest you bottle your tendency's for the time being. Amusing though how those urges are the very reasons for my appearance tonight. Don't you find it amusing as well?"
Gavinn said nothing, causing Lucien to give a little frown. "What? Had you not been expecting me? I truly thought you would. I did not tip-toe around you at all. Believe it or not I don't like to arrive unannounced." Lucien was half surprised to see the mer's spell vanish and his silver head bow to the floor. A foolish move indeed, Lucien was rather tempted to take his sword and--
"What must I do Mr. Lachance?"
The Cheydinhal Speaker blinked and immediately became suspicious. He had never before been asked such a question, this was the secretive Dark Brotherhood and not the blunt, known, fighters guild. It wasn't everyday a murderer asked for his orders right off the bat. "Eager to learn now are we?"
Gavinn sighed at the inquiry and slowly sat back down on the bed before answering it, his eyes never leaving the floor, almost as an act of fealty. "I know of the Dark Brotherhood, I have heard many rumors. Once I first joined the arena and killed my first man a stranger told me of you." The mer looked up, peering at the Speaker through his silvery hair as Lucien glared down curiously at him through his hood. "I have killed for profit and enjoyed every moment of besting my foes. I believe I fit the description of a Dark Brother rather nicely."
Lucien had to admire the boy, it was not everyday he met someone who had been expecting him for sometime. "So on your standards I am late. Already I am proud, Gavinn. You've done your homework I see."
"Yes, out of my own hatred toward surprises I spent little time looking into this. I was not ignorant enough to think myself intangible. I knew one day you would come, but my selfish ways kept me from caring. I love what I do, and would not think to stop it out of fear of darker things."
Though Lucien was not thoroughly convinced, he procured a small parcel from his sleeve and offered it to the Dunmer. "Darker things hmmm? Then you will fit in quiet nicely. But I will warn you now, out of…compassion. Once in the Dark Brotherhood you are no longer an arena champion, but a lowly murderer. If you wish to join you must understand who we are and what we stand for. Mainly you are to understand your place. You get no praise yet until you prove your worth, a title means nothing. Petty beggars have more fame with a knife than you."
Gavinn accepted the parchment, and swallowed hard. "I understand. I am willing to give all this fame away. Fighting creatures just…isn't the same as -"
"Maiming unsuspecting people?" Lachance offered with a smile. This was one of the quickest meetings he ever had, there was no bribing, no explaining or threatening, it was easy.
"Yes." Gavinn said ashamedly. "I'm just a bloodthirsty mer who wants more." He continued with a lopsided smile. "Fame and fortune are nothing. What I need, I want…"
Lucien held a hand up. "I know dear boy, I know what you need. All in the Brotherhood share the same want as you. We are willing to help, so long as your willing to serve."
"Anything." He said quickly, his ruby eyes gleaming, his voice eager. "I must bring death…I must cause pain. Anything, please."
"Perhaps the Listener was right…" Smirking Lucien took a step back, his job was done. "Then sleep brother. Once you awake, read your letter and follow the instructions carefully. I will come to you again when your task is complete. Sleep."
XXXX
For a long time Gavinn had sat on his bed once the Speaker had gone.
He mentally prayed all through there encounter and was very glad it was over. He had not expected himself to get as worked up as he did though, it was unlike him. Gavinn's training was finally going to be put to the test. At long last he met a Speaker of the Black Hand and in a matter of minutes had single handedly succeeded where all others of his guild had failed.
The encounter had shaken him up quite a bit. He in no way underestimated the Dark Brotherhood, but he had not expected them to be so…welcoming. It made him uneasy. What if they already knew of his true intent and were planning something?
Regardless, whatever the future may hold for him he would see this through. So for strength alone he slowly reached a hand into his pants pocket. Gavinn pulled out the long silver chain and gazed blankly at the little spider medallion for a moment. It lay neatly in his palm as he traced a finger over it, staring at the spider and it's web. Finally he took a heavy breath and pressed the cool metal to his lips. "Step one, my master, is complete."
xxxx
Hmm not bad. Not bad at all! Vicente was more open with me tonight than I had expected him to be. Usually you would think vampires would be very secretive. Not Vicente, at least not to me anyway. I learned a lot of useful things tonight, he's quite the chatter box, loves talking about himself. But hey, who doesn't?
Well anyway it turns out he's been in the Dark Brotherhood for a little over two hundred years. But Vicente's been a vampire for three hundred. Strange….I guess the Dark Brotherhood was a bit slow back in the day… You see he was recruited all those years ago, in Morrowind, Vvardenfell to be exact, and was taken into one sanctuary positioned on that island. According to him The Dark Brotherhood was in Morrowind as well as Cyrodiil some hundred years ago, and today we still venture there from time to time. He says its dangerous.
Apparently there's another guild there called the Morag Tong. They came one day to the sanctuary he lived in and slew all the family members of that great sanctuary. Which it was great, he couldn't stress that enough. Vicente spoke so much of his previous sanctuary that it made me quite jealous…he had a fling with his dead Speaker…thank Sithis she's dead!…Oh I'm awful… Anyway, he said it was located in some old ruin and if you compared it in size with our sanctuary then Cheydinhal would be a broom cupboard in comparison.
But this chick, this dead Speaker, let Vicente bite her on a regular basis! How absurd! What a harlot! And he was still new to vampirism then, he says being one hundred is like an adolescent vampire, which means he barley knew how to properly bite people. The bitch felt pain and lots of it.
Damn, damn lucky woman.
He did tell me so much about himself, and about his gift, others who carry the gift too. Like his friend in Skingrad, the one with 'lady problems' well he's a vampire! There are clans all around Cyrodiil, and vampires can sense each other, so he roughly knows the location of several clans. Plus vampirism has different effects, it all depends on who you were bitten by. For example, most vampires in Morrowind had glowing with eyes but the vampires of Cyrodiil only get white irises when they are searching for prey…or just felt like poking about in the dark.
Fang size varies too. The less you feed can also effect there growth…like a beaver I think. Basically he more a vampire eats, the more normal they look. Vicente likes to keep his strength peaked so he practically starves himself, if he ate regularly though he'd look human. He can walk in the daylight if he had enough blood in him and he could have an actual supper too with food, food. There is something in the blood that revitalizes the body and mimics life. So if he drained a beggar then he can sit down for a plate venison and potatoes.
Interesting isn't it?
But there are some nasty after effects if a vampire doesn't balance the two accordingly. He downright refused to tell me what those were.
This isn't the best news though, I've finally got myself a contract! He wants me to do it, Lucien wants me to do it, so you damn well know I excepted it.
So in all honesty, I'm probably going to get killed. How am I supposed to kill some Dunmer in the Imperial prison without being seen or getting myself caught? Its farce…but what the heck I need my fix. Your going down Mr…Oh what's his name again? Valen Dreth, I think?
Authors Notes: Told you it was horrible didn't I? And for the record I don't think Lucien has anything against Dunmers. But in this story, he does.
First off, I've noticed a lot of writers doing this 1,2,3, thingy and decided to give it a try.
1. Come on, remember him from Nerah's first contract?
2. Go to wiki lore if you don't believe me ;P
3. That was pretty irrelevant I know, but I had to. Remember in Morrowind how they would always say: "What outlander?" or "Make it quick, outlander!" and my personal favorite, "We're watching you…scum." Needless to say Imperials weren't very liked there. This is my own little revenge. Imperial mocking Dunmer. Har, har.