A Quick Announcement:
We are cancelling the regularly scheduled Q&A for something more exciting due to lack of questions and/or interesting reviews. In other words, y'all are getting a new proper chapter instead of some boring chat-chapter!
In other news, summer break is coming up for me! This should mean more frequent updates, but then again I have a summer job planned, so don't get too excited.
Either way, let's get back to it.
An unnamed Guest was the first to recognize the Bond reference: we're talking about Oddjob and his deceptively deadly headwear. HONORARY MENTION to you, wherever and whoever you may be.
Now then. We had just scared a few vampires?
Chapter Twenty-eight: Dreams
Ysmir felt much calmer once they reached the Drunken Farmer. Even if it was in another plane of existence than his home, there was only so many ways to build an inn. The barkeep, who they had learned was named Bernard, was nowhere to be seen, and so they quietly walked up a few rickety stairs to the corridor which held most of the bedrooms. Summer had set in properly now, meaning travellers usually passed most of the inns and preferred to make camp in the wilderness under the stars, saving a bit of gold as they did so.
Ysmir found the practice strange, with good reason. Only an idiot, or overly confident mercenary, slept in the wilds of Skyrim if they could avoid it. Bandits, predators, Deadra worshippers and simple cutthroats made the wilderness dangerous, but it seemed Tristain had less problems of that sort. No one had even approached them during their journey from and back to the Capital.
After finding and entering their room, the two of them lay down in their respective beds. Ysmir fished up a small green bottle of Stamina poison from his backpack, and removed his pauldrons and helmet whilst keeping the rest of his armour on. One never knew what might happen during sleep; he had heard from Babette that several members of the Brotherhood were initially abducted from their beds. After downing the poison he drifted off to the land of the dreaming, and Louise lay awake and immovable beside him. She had been having trouble sleeping since the assignment in Albion, most likely due to her illness and subsequent death, and even Ysmir's method of alchemically induced unconsciousness had not worked. She had found a solution, however.
Louise climbed silently out of her bed, aided by vampiric stealth. After making sure that Ysmir was sleeping properly, she approached a decently sized wooden chest which had been standing in a corner when they got the room. She opened the container, moved the bedclothes and spare pillows in it out of the way, and lay down inside it, closing the lid as she did so. Whilst she was convinced a proper coffin would be even better, this would do in the meantime.
Louise relaxed once she felt safe in her chest, and drifted off into a sleep-like trance. Surprisingly, she dreamt.
She was standing at the top of a snow-peaked mountain, overlooking the land below. She turned around before she heard the wingbeats of the ancient, grey-scaled dragon. She surprised herself with not being scared, instead feeling like this had already happened.
The dragon spoke, but she could not hear the words it said. She felt her mouth moving, but heard several voices speaking alongside her own, each saying something different. The dragon seemed to understand her, though, and conjured up a wall of flame with an incantation of merely three words. The fire washed over her, and suddenly she was somewhere else.
She saw the Traitor before her, standing much too confidently on the shoulder of the giant statue he had just blinded. He lifted his dwarven blade and charged, and she found herself vaulting off the wall to meet him, her trademark ebony clashing against dwemer metal as he parried her attack. The Traitor cheated, as she had known he would, and called on the power of the Key to blast her away, sending her weapons flying off into the corner of the gigantic chamber. He was revelling in his forbidden power, gloating at her, walking up to her unmoving body to finish the job he had started in Snow Veil Sanctum.
She summoned up the last of her strength, and stepped into the void, emerging behind the Traitor. He might have disarmed her, but she was never entirely without weapons. Her claws were unsheathed in an instant, and she drove the black one on her right middle finger into the Traitor's jugular vein. His blood stained her fur red, and she decided right then and there to keep dyeing it like that.
As water cascaded down from the ceiling of the chamber, she was suddenly somewhere else.
The Fort was burning, ruined banners dotting the walls and soot clinging to every surface. She was walking through the embers, heading towards the Dead Drop falls where the last of the Dawnguard were holed up, determined to outlast their undead attackers. She admired their tenacity, but knew that they would ultimately die like their peers. After all, mortals always did. She was doing them a kindness, finishing them off quickly. At least, that was what she had kept telling herself as she slaughtered them. They were a threat, determined that the world would be a better place without her and her kin…
The worst part was that deep down, she knew they were right. She was a perversion of nature, a monster feeding off of innocents, and they were the good guys. They were the good guys, and they were losing.
She tried not to think too much about that as she sent a spear of ice through Agmaer's throat, pinning his body to the crates he had been hiding behind. His blood washed over her as his eyes grew cold and lifeless, and she inexplicably wished that her tear ducts were still working.
The smoke and blood overtook her senses, and she found herself somewhere else.
The undead impurity masquerading as a person crumbled under her Runehammer. She saw the others racing closer with unnatural speed, and changed her posture to hold the weapon as if she was trying to block their attacks. She was not finished, however; she pushed the hammer forward, bashing the thin air of the dungeon and deploying the unique blessing.
A collection of magical runes appeared roughly meters in front of her, and as the first vampire stepped on them the halls of the dungeon were briefly as bright as day. The undead cretins hesitated as they saw the first three in their ranks fall to the ground burning, giving him the chance he needed.
"None escape the Vigil!"
Her battlecry echoes as she charges down the hall, her Runehammer doming in the skulls of the fleeing impurities.
Louise was suddenly yanked out of her dreams by a knocking on the chest lid. Peeking out, she saw Ysmir fixing his pauldrons to his shoulders and speaking to someone. His voice was lees booming than usual, as he was trying to avoid waking up whoever might still be sleeping in any of the other rooms.
"You know, you two really shouldn't be here. I should really send a courier to the Academy with a letter informing the Headmaster of your irresponsible actions."
Louise had figured out who Ysmir was talking to even before she recognized the smooth, all too female voice that answered him.
"Irresponsible?! Says you two, who run off in the middle of the night on a mission for the Princess, and then comes back only to leave again barely an hour later! We are simply looking out for our friend. Besides, you promised you'd teach us more of that magic."
Louise threw open the chest lid just in time to see Tabitha nodding along as Kirche finished her little berating speech. Kirche took one look at her, and then backed away slightly.
"L-Louise, dear, what happened to you?! Your skin is grey, and your eyes seem to be slightly… yellow?!"
Ysmir jumped in, much to Louise's chagrin.
"She's ill, and we're looking for a cure. Now, you better get out of here, before you catch it too!"
His bluff did not seem to work, as Tabitha simply walked past him and studied Louise.
"Open mouth."
Slightly irritated, Louise fulfilled the request, granting view of her teeth and tongue. Tabitha kept looking for a few seconds, and then, in a matter-of-fact voice, stated "Vampire. Correct?"
Ysmir nodded, deflating as he did so. Kirche was staring like she expected Louise to rip Tabitha's throat out, and Tabitha was sporting a slightly concerned expression.
It took Louise and Ysmir nearly an hour to explain what had happened since they got back from their mission, including a short lecture from Ysmir on the physicalities of vampires and undead in general. Kirche was smothering Louise in her bosom by the end of it, which was less problematic for everyone now that she did not need to breathe. After the unwanted (though arguably warranted) display of affection and sympathy directed at the poor vampire, Kirche and Tabitha reluctantly agreed to leave the other two to their mission, but only after Ysmir promised them a quick lesson in Tamrielic magic.
Since time was semi-short, and he yearned to go back to sleep, Ysmir led the two of them in the shortest class he had ever held in the basement of an inn. That's not to say it was ineffective, though; by the end of it Kirche could launch a small fireball without using her wand, and Tabitha was delving into the applications of summoned daedra, though without more extensive training she was only able to summon a spectral wolf familiar. The two of them were quite pleased, however, and left the tavern in a hurry. They had flown here on Sylphid, and Kirche loathed leaving Flame unattended for very long, since he apparently took great pleasure in eating her stockpiles of candles.
After the two of them had left, Ysmir snuck a quick peak outside. Judging from the position of the sun, as well as the massive clock hanging on the tower attached to the town's Chapel of Brimir, it was around the tenth hour of the morning. Since they had run into the vampires at roughly midnight, he judged himself more than capable to run a few errands whilst Louise slept. He remembered the good Professor Colbert mentioning something about vampires being unholy, so perhaps the priests and the Chapel had resources to battle them?
After checking that all of his equipment was orderly and working, he strode down the street to the big clock tower and the Chapel in its shadow.
Viewpoint change!
The vampires of Tristania, all belonging to the coven who resided in the well of the eastern market, were situated around an oblong table in their hideout. They were discussing what to do with the new players who had entered the board during the night.
The Forgotten knew very little of what had happened, since no one bothered to inform her of any news. She still retained some amount of curiosity, though, and so she was situated in the corner of her cage closest to the door, which in turn was quite close to the table where the proper ones were gathered. She only barely heard what they were saying, but as she understood it there had arrived an unaligned vampire in town, with a ghoul capable of powerful magics. They had chased off the entirety of the coven, including Stilio, who had been afflicted with magical fear.
She found the last part quite humorous.
She decided she had heard enough, and retreated to the corner of her cage where a pile of straw constituted her bed. Whilst laying down, she contemplated the implications of these new players. Perhaps, though it was unlikely, perhaps she could regain her freedom if she played the few cards she had cleverly. She had no doubt that the new one would either be killed or invited into the coven, and it was only the second option which could potentially get her out of this predicament. If nothing else, a ghoul who dared attack Stilio might be willing to advocate her freedom.
Alas, there were many improbabilities in her plan, and she was tired. The Forgotten lay down on her bedding, and drifted off into the land of the dreaming.
Author's Comments:
Ok, Ok, I'm really sorry for the horrible delays. School is now finished, but it seems my parents (particularly the male one) had an idea of a summer break involving repainting the house, fixing the well, construct a machine hall, furiously cleaning the house and, surprisingly, paintball. Also, there was an issue when i was uploading this chapter; apparently disliked the format for some reason.
Woah, I feel better already! Good to vent, isn't it?
Now then, Easter Eggs:
In chapter 27, In the first half of the chapter, there is a nod to a popular TV show featuring an alcoholic scientist and his useless grandson. Where it and what is it referencing?
In the latter half of chapter 26, a phrase is mentioned that is very close to something said by a well-known and well-memed group. I want the phrase, the group and the circumstances when they say it.
There is one in chapter twenty-four, when Sheffield is described properly for the first time. The wording may be similar to a semi-famous piece by a semi-famous comedian, and I want the comedian and the piece it's in. A hint: weather.
In chapter nineteen, Ysmir has some philosophical ways to look at power. Another character also mentions something very close to this. I want the name and title of the character, the book series he appears (briefly) in and the name of the main character. A hint: the main character IS NAMED KVOTHE. THIS IS REALLY NOT VERY HARD; YOU JUST READ THE FOUNDER-DAMNED BOOK!
And with that wonderfully exquisite exit, I shall take my leave.
Ossa out!
