Unexpected Visitor
The mid-day sun was high in the sky as Arkyn made his way deeper into the Reach. He had stopped in Karthwasten to and asked about a Breton woman obsessed with Dwemer. Lucky for him a guard had seen a red-haired Breton matching that description, who just so happened to have been carrying around a bunch of Dwemer relics, and pointed him in the right direction.
Before long he found himself following a small river when he came upon a cluster of mud crabs. In the mud next to the crabs lie a satchel with Dwarven gyros falling out of it. As he neared the satchel the crabs collectively converged on him.
"KAAN!". The word tore through the calm air and all at once the crabs started to flee, scattering into the river. Arkyn smiled to himself as he picked up the torn satchel.
A little further down the river Arkyn heard a voice. A females voice. "Just one gyro. One! And I can get back to work. Where are they!".
He came up the side of the river bank to see a red-haired, middle-aged Breton woman looking frantically around a Dwarven ruin of sorts. She turned and looked at him for a moment, though it was almost like she didn't really see him.
"You! You haven't seen a sack full of Dwarven gyros laying around, have you?". The woman went back to looking around what was clearly a makeshift work table. "I'd swear I left it right here. Do you think mud crabs might have taken it?".
Arkyn nearly snorted at her comments. He lowered his cowl and took the satchel from his side and set it down on her work table. The woman's eyes lit up as one of the gyros fell out of the hole in the side of the sack. After emptying the satchel, the Breton seemed to finally recognize Arkyns presence
"I take it you're Sorine Jurard", Arkyn said inquisitively and offered her an out stretched arm. She looked at him for a moment before accepting his hand.
"I am. Have we met somewhere before?".
Arkyn gave her slight grin before crossing his arms and taking on a more serious tone. "No, a man named Isran sent me to find you". Sorines face twisted in confusion briefly.
"Isran? Wants me? No, you must be mistaken".
Arkyn raised an eyebrow. Though knowing what little he did about Isran he knew she had a reason for not believing him.
"Isran made it exceedingly clear the last time we spoke that he had no interest in my help". Sorine started sifting through all of the Dwemer scrap lying about aimlessly. "I find it hard to believe he's changed his mind. He said some very hurtful things to me before I left". Sorine huffed, taking a moment to breath. "Anyway, I'm quite happy in my current pursuits. So, if you'll excuse me…"
Arkyn rolled his eyes before interrupting her. "They have Elder Scroll".
Sorine glared at him. "Who? Isran? I don't see…"
"Not Isran. The vampires".
Sorine was stunned and left speechless for moment, her eyes wide in disbelief as if waiting for the man to tell her it was joke. "I… well, that's actually something I never would've anticipated". She shifted her weight on her feet and scratched at her cheek. "Interesting, I'm not sure what they would do with one, but in this case Isran is probably correct in thinking it isn't good".
Arkyn paced in his spot and kicked lazily at the dirt. "We're gathering at Fort Dawnguard", he said casually drawing the Bretons attention back to him.
"Ah, been working more on his secret hideout, has he? It'll be interesting to see how much progress he's made", Sorine started messing a different sack, putting things away haphazardly. "I'll finish up here and head that way as soon as I can. See you there".
Arkyn sighed internally. "Unfortunately, so", he said under his breath though Sorine was to pre-occupied to notice so he just made his way back towards the river. Sorine was interesting to say the least, though she wasn't what he so unenthusiastic about. He had no desire to make it back to the Dawnguard to continue taking orders from Isran.
At least for now he had the chance to make it by Windstad Manor. Like the others, it'd had been some time since Arkyn had seen Valdimar.
The walk was a long one making his way out of the hills of the Reach. The walk itself was unusually quiet. Normally he would have encountered at least a small group of Forsworn by now. So far though, nothing had happened.
Not that he minded it though. It was refreshing to walk through the wilderness of Skyrim without being bombarded by bandits, soldiers, or even dragons for that matter. Maybe things had finally changed for Skyrim and her people since he'd unofficially retired.
Well, save for the vampires of course.
The sun had started to set as he had just made his way past Morthal. He could feel his body and mind becoming exhausted. When was the last time he had slept? He honestly couldn't remember.
At least at Windstad the most he would have to worry about is Valdimar going on and on about some story from his youth. He'd be able to rest a day or two none the less.
Windstad came into view not long after he entered the marshes. There was a small town just before Windstad, one that he helped build. A year or so back he stumbled on small cave that had silver ore inside. After he had dug up enough, he found himself with more then he could handle by himself. It didn't take long to find some workers to do the job and with the profits off of the mine the rest just fell into place.
The town was dimly lit. Most of the towns folk would either already be in the mead hall or headed that way. It wouldn't be to hard to sneak through though. Most would either be already drunk or simply too tired to look for someone who didn't want to be seen.
Just outside the manor, Arkyn paused by a tree. There was nobody outside, at least nobody close enough to matter. With it being just after sunset the carriage driver would most likely have already made his way inside.
Arkyn sighed as he made his way to the front door and pushed his way inside.
As soon as the door opened Arkyn could smell something delicious. His stomach growled in response to the aroma. Before he could take another step an older Nord stepped through the doorway to the main hall holding a small steaming bowl.
The old man was the first to speak. "It's good to see you again boy".
Arkyn barely had time to pull his cowl down before the older man approached him revealing a toothy grin. "I always did enjoy the smell of your cooking old man".
The older Nord narrowed his eyes. "Old man? I can still hold my own boy". Both starred at the other a moment before bursting into laughter and embracing.
"It's good to see you Valdimar", Arkyn said, breaking the embrace and grabbing the bowl of stew from Valdimar. The older Nord glowered at Arkyn for a moment as he taunted the bowl in front of him and taking a bite.
Arkyns relationship with Valdimar was a lot different then with his other Housecarls. Sure he was close to most of them, and simply downright playful with a few. With Valdimar though it was the kind of playfulness you would expect to see between a father and son. In truth Valdimar had always been a father figure to Arkyn weather he knew it or would admit it if he did know it.
The older Nord had taught him a lot in his youth, mostly how to work the forge, the man was damn good with a hammer and a piece of steel. So when Arkyn had finally became Thane of Morthal it only made since that Valdimar became his Housecarl and subsequently his steward. When Arkyn had started build up the neighboring town it was he who had offered to run the business side of the mine for the Dragonborn so as not to burden him even more. Of course the money from said mine was a nice bonus.
"Give back my damn dinner boy!", Valdimar spat though not angrily as he made a swipe for the bowl. "There's plenty more still over the fire". Arkyn laughed again but handed back the bowl and wiped his lips.
The Dragonborn followed Valdimar into the main hall, smiling cheek to cheek and was greeted with another familiar face.
Accompanying the previously absent carriage driver sat Benor, a Nord close to Arkyn in age though with a few years on him. "Care to join us for dinner milk drinker?", Benor asked, a pitch in his voice and eyebrow raised.
Arkyn chuckled, raising an arm and pointing to the man as he walked around the table towards the pot over the fire. "You remember the last time you called me that right?" Benor laughed, sitting back down.
"How could I not? Whole town gathered 'round while we rolled in the dirt trying to knock each others teeth out".
"And now here you are stuck with me as your friend", Arkyn retorted, dumping stew into a bowl.
Valdimar sat down at the table, bringing his bowl down on the table a little harder than he meant. "Alright lads, don't go running my dinner just to prove which of you is more stubborn". Both men looked at each other with a grin as Arkyn took a seat.
"So what brings up this way Benor. Wasn't to see me I know". Benor sighed as he took a bite of stew.
"On your payroll now", Arkyn was visibly puzzled by this, a tankard paused halfway to his mouth. He looked to Valdimar who only nodded as he took a bite of bread. Benor cleared his throat before continuing. "The old man came into town looking for a new guard captain. No one else wanted the job so here I am."
Arkyn took a long sip of the wine Valdimar had poured. "What happened to that mercenary from High Rock? The money not good enough for him?". The room became tense at Arkyns joke. Something had happened that they weren't telling him.
The carriage driver, who up until now had remained quiet, spoke first. "He's dead". Arkyn could only stare, it seemed callous to think about it, but people died all the time, and this was just a mercenary they had hired because he was competent enough to handle the job. It was likely he had just angered a few miners and they did something about it. These things happened. Besides, it wasn't as though he knew the man that well. He had just been hired help after all.
"Ok,", Arkyn started. "What's so special about his death, he was just a mercenary".
Everyone in the room starred at the Dragonborn who calmly downed the rest of his wine. Benor groaned. "It's not that he's dead, it's how he was found". The carriage driver downed a bottle of mead, a haunting look in his eyes. Benor continued, nodding towards the carriage driver.
"Engar here is the one who found him. Some manor of beast killed the merc, but not like anything I've ever seen. Not wolves, those spiders that wonder the swamp or even those giant black bug things that pop up from time to time". Arkyn knew what he was talking about. Chaurus', vile insects that he was all to familiar with.
"The man had been eviscerated", the carriage driver spoke now. "And aside from the blood on the ground he had been completely drained". No one said anything, though they were all thinking it. "And that's when I saw it, those awful eyes peering at me through the dark". The man started trembling, nearly spilling his drink from the shaking in his hand.
Arkyn reached over and placed his hand on the man's wrist. "The important thing is you're alive, you made it back here".
Engar shook his head uncertainly. "That's the thing though, the beast didn't chase after me. I don't know why; I never could have out run it otherwise".
Everyone sat in silence, letting the conversation sink in. Morthal had always been a strange place. Here, in the swaps it was just common. People wandering off and never being seen again. What struck Arkyn odd though was that not a single vampire had been spotted in the region since he and a few of his Housecarls had dealt with Movarth and his coven.
Sure, with the recent vampire attacks it was possible they had made their way through Morthal, but just as the fear stricken Engar had said, it made no sense that the blood sucker, if indeed that was what attacked, would just ignore the chance to indulge in a second meal.
Arkyn finally broke the silence. "There's been a string of vampire attacks lately", he said calmly, like it were just an everyday conversation topic. "The most recent being in Whiterun out in the open".
"By the Nine, you can't be serious", said Benor. The other two men looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to divulge more of what he knew.
"I am, unfortunately. I was there when it happened, there were no casualties. Just a lot of confused and scared by standers", Arkyn poured more wine into his tankard before continuing. "Before that there was this, kid, from Rorikstead. He was beaten, bruised and carved up. Apparently stumbled upon a small cave of them not far from Lakeview".
Valdimar leaned forward, propping himself up with his elbows and hands clasped. "The kids and Rayya are still there?", he asked hesitantly. Of course he knew the answer. If it were any different Arkyn would not be sitting here before him sharing drinks and discussing this new blight of vampires so casually. They all remembered the aftermath of having lost his wife.
Arkyn nodded. "Aye, they're safe. Both Lydia and Iona are there to help Rayya in the event something does happen, and I have eyes on the place to incase I need to return". None of the other men, meaning Benor and Valdimar, knew what he meant by that. Engar was to preoccupied with his drink and trying to keep himself calm to really care what was being said. No matter how well they though they had come to know Arkyn, he always had another mystery about him. Some unknown ability or connection. It was a big part of the reason no one question him when it came to following orders, or tried to stand in his way when he had his mind set on something.
Sure his kids could sometimes persuade him, and even Lydia and Rayya had been know to bend his ear from time to time. But when it came down to it no one could really make him do, subsequently not do what he wanted. That reason alone was a big part of why each of them respected and were so loyal to him.
"So then what do you want us to do?", Valdimar finally asked. He figured that would be the reason Arkyn had made the journey out here. Though he was wrong.
"Nothing", Arkyn said simply before downing the rest of his wine and getting back up to get more stew.
Both Benor and Valdimar looked at one another briefly. "Nothing? What do you mean nothing?".
"Exactly what I said. Nothing", Arkyn said tiredly. "I'm handling it, I just…", the weight of exhaustion had started to set in. "I just need to rest for a couple of days before heading back". Valdimar scoffed and crossed his arms.
"Stubborn as ever I see. And you said headed back? Back home or after these creatures?".
The Dragonborn sighed heavily. "A place called Fort Dawnguard". As expected both men looked at him with confusion. Arkyn preceded to tell them about the Dawnguard, about Dimhollow crypt and the woman he found, though he left out the part about the Elder Scroll. And he told them about finding Sorine in the Reach.
Valdimar shook his head and grumbled under his breath while Benor starred at the liquid in his mug. "So, this serious then", Benor said absently. "Not just a random happening". Arkyn only grunted in response. Benor continued. "And you say this Dawnguard is putting the fight to these monsters?".
"Aye". Arkyn stood from the table, dumbing the rest of what he didn't eat back into the cooking pot. He stretched his muscles, letting out a sound of relief. "That old cot still in the cellar old man?". He asked Valdimar though he didn't wait for an answer, and made his way towards the cellar door.
Valdimar and Benor exchanged looks with one another. The older Nord sighed and shook his head. "I'll go talk to him, see if there's anything we can do to help at Lakeview". Benor said nothing. He didn't like the idea of some kind of vampire uprising, but he would follow Arkyn into Oblivion to fight back the monsters.
Though if there were vampires about, leaving for Lakeview would ultimately leave Windstad vulnerable.
Downstairs in the cellar, Valdimar found Arkyn standing over a table. All his gear, weapons, and armor laid out in front of him. He had stripped down completely save for some ragged trousers. He had some new scars that the old man had never seen, but he knew better than to ask.
"So then, let's have it", Valdimar said bluntly. Arkyn diligently oiled his blades to clean them before putting them back into their sheaths. "Well? What's the part you haven't told us?".
Arkyn placed both hands on the table, leaning over his belongings. "They have an Elder Scroll", he said quietly.
Valdimars eyes went wide though he said nothing. "By the divines. Not your Scroll I take it?". Arkyn let out a soft chuckle and shook his head. "Of course. Does your Dawnguard know?".
"Of course. But they are not my Dawnguard. Don't even know if I'll return. It would be easier to deal with this on my own".
Valdimar grinned. Of course, why would he do it any other way. "You know you don't have to do this alone kid. You have…"
"We're not getting into this again Valdimar. I work alone, that's that". The older Nord grunted.
"Fine, I'll leave you to it". He made his way back towards the ladder upstairs when Arkyn called after him.
"Valdimar wait", he sighed. "I could use help with my armor, and who better than the man who taught most of what I know". His lips had curled into a half grin. Valdimar huffed.
"Flattery doesn't suit you kid".
It had been the better part of a week and a half since the hooded man from the crypt had brought her home. Serana sat in her chambers, the book she had taken from the tavern the two had rested at open in lap. Its cover bound it tight black leather. A single silver medallion in the shape of a dragon on the front.
The book read of a man born with the blood of a dragon that would be destined to battle the beast known as Alduin-the world eater. A man that did such a thing and saved all of Tamriel who still walked among the people of Skyrim. The book gave little in the way of a description of the man, only that he was a son of Skyrim herself. It gave her a good laugh at least. As far as she was concerned, hero's only existed as hero's in books and song.
Her time back in her family home had done little to bring her comfort. Her father had become irreparably lost in his own madness over the prophecy that had torn her family apart so long ago.
Most of the castle had fallen into disarray, either through time or areas that had been blocked off purposely.
Serana had done what she could to avoid her father. After banishing the mortal who had brought her home he immediately set his eyes on the Scroll she had been locked away with. The argument hadn't lasted long though, she was the one who had slept in a coffin with it for millennia so she had no intentions of letting go it now.
Her chambers had not changed in the slightest in her time away, so there wasn't anything really to keep her mind occupied other the book she brought. Other wise her mind was focused on the mortal who had rescued her.
There hadn't been many mortals in her life after becoming immortal herself, but his behavior had been strange to say the least. Anyone else would have tried to kill her the moment they realized what she was, or simply for the scroll she had on her back.
Though, what had her perplexed most still, was that he had let her drink from him. From the hole in his hand. A wound that, by all accounts, would have had any other person on the ground crying out in pain but he had acted like he barely noticed it all.
Of course the taste of his blood returned to her mind every time she though her thirst. There were plenty of human cattle to drink from here at the castle. None of it compared to his. It was powerful, holding potential she couldn't fathom, it was just so primal.
The thought that protruded her mind the most perhaps, was that she had to find a way to stop her father. During the years since her disappearance he had become more obsessed with scrolls and the prophecy they told of. If he succeeded it would only bring about unwanted attention. Not only this Dawnguard, but all of Tamriel would be at their doorstep. No, he had to be stopped. She couldn't do it on her own though, she could never hope to over power him. She needed someone's help. She had only one thing to go off of. The Dawnguard.
Perhaps she would find the man who had saved her there among them, though he didn't seem like someone to just blindly join a cause. Never the less, it was worth a shot. She would try to find him, but first she had to find a way out of the castle unnoticed.
A wolf, by itself ran through the night. There was no destination in sight, no pray to be chased. Rather it was being chased by something. It had wings, no they had wings. There were many of them overhead chasing after the lone wolf.
The running was becoming ceaseless, and there was no apparent end in sight. The wolf was strong, its stamina honed over years and countless hunts. It wasn't enough though; the winged pursuers were relentless in their pursuit. The wolf's strength was fading quickly as ran through the endless forest. Soon the wolf would have to slow down, forced to catch its breath, forced to face its pursuers.
So be it then, the wolf was not afraid. It had never had the privilege of knowing fear, only fighting for survival. For the right to live. This would be no different, even if it couldn't see its enemy, it would fight. It would always fight.
The wolf's room to run had come to an end abruptly, it had almost not even noticed the sound of rushing water, the sound of water crashing against rocks far below somewhere. It had reached a cliff. Nowhere to run. The wolf turned back to the tree line, crouched, the hair on its neck standing up and teeth bared.
It would fight. It would always fight.
Without any kind of warning, any sign of movement, the wolf's pursuers erupted out of the tree line into the night air blocking out the moonlight, leaving nothing to been seen, only to be heard. The fluttering of hundreds of wings filled the black sky.
It had no chance to attack. In a brief moment the wolf had been swept from the cliff side. All senses had faltered as the wolf became weightless and fell from its last stand. A blurred reflection starred back as the wolf howled into the night before meeting with the rocks below.
Arkyn awoke in a cold sweat, sitting up right and looking around the room to try and find his bearings. He was still in the cellar of Windstad manor. His belongings still lay on the table from before minus his armor that was likely still on the armorers table improved by Valdimars hand.
He wiped the sweat from his brow with the aged fur pelt he had used as a blanket. Being under ground he had no way of telling what time of day it was outside though if he had to guess it was almost night again. Admittedly he wasn't surprised that he had slept so long. It had been days since he last slept but he was used to it.
Arkyn got up and gathered his stuff, sliding back into his armor and carefully putting away his weapons in their respective spots inside his armor.
Upstairs the Manor was quiet save for the dying fire in the cobblestone fire place. Valdimar would likely be asleep on the second floor. If Benor really was the new captain of the towns guard he would be somewhere in the town making rounds.
Arkyn had almost guessed correctly, it was only slightly later than he had thought. The night air was brisk, luckily though the wind hadn't made a presence yet.
He tugged at his weapons at his sides making sure they were still in place. His armor was fitting better now that Valdimar had worked on it. Not that it hadn't fit before. Arkyn admittedly wasn't as skilled in armor as he was weapons.
Only a few torches moved around inside the town which meant there weren't many guards out. It was strange, he thought, that given the recent captain had been slaughtered that there were fewer guards patrolling the town.
It wasn't hard to find Benor, he was near the main gate watching the road. Benor noticed Arkyn before he had gotten to close, he was on edge and understandably so.
"Leaving already friend?".
Arkyn joined Benor at his side overlooking the road. "Only three guards for the night shift?". Benor huffed, a small puff of breath escaping his lips.
"Only ones willing to do it, a lot ran off after the last captain was found". Arkyn clicked his tongue. It wasn't surprising. Money never did buy honor. "That carriage driver of yours", Benor continued, "He didn't tell you about the others".
Arkyn groaned and leaned against the railing. "How many?".
"Three, workers from the mine. Found just like the previous captain". Benor opened a waterskin, taking a gulp and handing it to Arkyn. "Few of the miners said they saw something going in and out of that old cave you and the others cleared a few years back".
Arkyn held the waterskin at his lips but paused. "Movarth's lair? We wiped out his coven".
Benor shrugged. "It's just talk around town; you know how folk get. Always let rumor and conjecture rule their life".
Arkyn handed the waterskin back and made his way back towards the steps down, "I'll check it out just in case. If the miners start talking about leaving offer anyone willing to take up arms a substantial raise".
Benor looked at him through the dark. "You're going by yourself?".
Arkyn groaned. "Don't you start too, already had this conversation with the old man".
Benor chuckled and held up his hands defensively. "Just asking, though one of these days you and I are going to go back out and settle the score".
Arkyn scoffed as he descended the stairs. "Don't tell me you're still sore about me killing those bandits at Robber's gorge?", He turned back to Benor briefly. "Look, I can't help it that you can't handle a bow". Benor laughed, waving his friend off before looking out back over the road.
"Divines guide you friend".
Arkyn reached an area just a few yards away from the mouth of Movarth's old lair within the hour. He had little trouble seeing in the dark so he had no need to light a torch. Besides, if there was something else living down there the light of the fire would only draw it out. No, he would wait where he was until morning.
Of course waiting for first light brought nothing but boredom. Nothing to do but ponder over his thoughts. Namely the nightmare and the woman from the crypt. The Dawnguard and Isran came to mind as well. He though about the altercation between the two the last time he was there. The two didn't like each other, that much was obvious.
Isran was clearly used to having things done his way without question or simply just doing them himself. The same could be said for Arkyn. The irony wasn't lost him of course. He was no different. Here he was, staking out a cave known to be inhabited by vampires at one point in the dark by himself at his request despite objections from his friends.
The thought was almost enough to make him laugh before he remembered what he was doing and noticed that then was cresting over the horizon to the east. Arkyn stretched the stiffness from his muscles and joints. He hadn't heard anything move around the cave all night so it was safe to assume that nothing was coming in and out, or if it was it was sleeping or other wise preoccupied.
To his surprise the ground just outside the mouth of the cave and nearest had been completely un-touched. Not even small game had made any tracks. He stood outside the cave for a while, waiting for the morning sun to fully rise, listening for anything that would indicate something was inside. But he heard nothing. Aside from the small breeze that had stirred up there was nothing.
Annoyed, Arkyn huffed and decided to cut his losses. On foot from Morthal it would take him at least three days to make it back to Dayspring Canyon.
He decided he'd have to talk to Isran when he made it back. Not to apologize, but to let him know where they stood with each other. This vampire threat had to be dealt with and any willing to fight should have that chance.
When Arkyn finally reached Dayspring Canyon the sun had started to set. He didn't waste any time getting up to the fort but before he rounded the bend of the first tower he heard voices. Nothing hostile, but a lot of dissent. As he rounded the tower, he was greeted with half way pitched tents, a half built camp sight, and weary and beaten travelers.
Few eyes found Arkyn as he made his way past the travelers. Most were trying to help set up their camp, others lost in thought, starring off into nothing.
As he made his way into the fort both Sorine and Gunmar stood talking to one another in the center of the circular room which was now empty of all previous activity. Before he could get close enough to say anything Isran's voice came from above them.
"Hold it right there". All three of them looked up to the balcony that surrounded the room. In the dim light the only thing that really made him recognizable was his voice, for the other two at least.
"What are you doing Isran?", Sorine asked squinting trying to see the man. Isran didn't respond. Instead the roof, rather the dome above the room slightly opened and a light filtered into the room through some mechanism and lit the entire chamber.
"Making sure you're not vampires", Sorine and Gunmar muttered under their breath to one another. "Can't be to careful". The light faded from the room as Isran continued. "So, welcome to Fort Dawnguard. I'm sure you've heard a bit of what we're up against?".
Sorine scoffed. "Vampires. It's always vampires with you". Sorines comment made the man grumble indistinctly for a moment before responding.
"Powerful vampires, unlike anything we've seen before. They have an Elder Scroll". The two nodded as Isran spoke, after all, the mention of the scroll is made them come here in the first place. Certainly not for Isran. Arkyn stood a few paces behind them, arms crossed and starring at where Isran stood. Even from here Arkyn could see that man was a little more tense than he had been the last few times he was here.
"If anyone is going to stand in their way, its going to be us". Isran's words hung in the air a moment before anyone decided to speak. That person was Sorine as she started to pace around slightly.
"This is all well and good, but do we actually know anything about what they're doing, and is so, what do we do now?".
Isran leaned onto the railing with both hands. "We'll get to that. For now, get acquainted with the space. Sorine, you'll find room to start tinkering with that crossbow design you've been working on. Gunmar, there's an area large enough for you to pen up some trolls. Get the armored up and ready for use". That caught Arkyns attention, trained battle trolls? That could be interesting.
Isran looked over to Arkyn, as if he finally noticed his presence as he was lowering his hood and cowl and stepped closer to the newest, or possibly oldest depending on how you looked at the situation, Dawnguard members who were talking to one another quietly.
"In the mean time", Isran continued starring at the Dragonborn. "You and I are going to visit something that came here looking for you". Before Arkyn could say anything Isran turned away and disappeared. Both Sorine and Gunmar looked at him quizzically but only received a shrug. In all honesty he had no idea what, or who was waiting for him stairs.
Arkyn made his way upstairs contemplating on when to speak to Isran about where the two stand with one another. He had spent the last few days working it out in his mind as walked back to the fort, after all there wasn't much else to do. Before he reached the top of the stairs though a smell registered and brought him to stop just before the door way.
Cold iron and blood permeated the air. "What in the hell was Isran doing up here?", he wondered to himself.
Isran was waiting just around the corner and when Arkyn appeared he started to walk in the direction of the smell. This perplexed Arkyn, surely the man wasn't trying to lead him into some sort of a trap? He'd be a fool to try as much. Never the less, Arkyn place his left hand on his sword to be ready.
As both men entered a room where the smell had come from Arkyn stood in the doorway, caught off guard. Instead of some attempt at a trap set for the man, a woman with an Elder Scroll stood in the corner of the room. Her eyes locked with his immediately, taking in his reaction.
"You probably weren't expecting to see me again".