Loredas, the 15th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201


Public opinion is quite the fickle thing, but especially so when powered by disbelief. When compared to the five thousand years that dragons have been considered dead and gone, if not altogether fictional, the quarter of a year that passed since the Helgen incident seems painfully insignificant. So now, despite all the indisputable proof that the gargantuan creatures of fire and death truly exist, there still remains a sort of pushback, a defensive reaction from the general populace. And who can blame them? Would it truly be better to live your every day in terror, awaiting a near-certain demise instead of simply discarding the unbelievable stories as resurgent myths?

Oh, but if only it were that simple. If all Saya had to deal with were true stories disregarded as fiction, then she would only have to follow them without question, go and kill the beast at the rumored location. But no, of course not. With tales of dragons becoming more frequent, there was an equally sharp increase in the amount of foolish mercs and wannabe-heroes weaving tall tales of their nonexistent adventures and the monsters they've slain - the most common and pompous of which, of course, were dragons.

If she had a drake for every shortwit she had to waste her time on just to make sure the dragons he was talking of were actually real, she'd have enough for a proper dinner by now. By the Three, she missed good food. Maybe she should stop by in Whiterun again soon and get herself something nice. Or maybe Riften will have something to her liking…

But that's for later. Right now, she was preoccupied with investigating one 'Northwind summit', the tallest peak among the fabled Ysgramor's Teeth - a mountain range which separated the Eastmarch from the Rift. Owing its name to the 'Songs of the Return' that tell of the Five Hundred Companions and their conquest of Skyrim, the spine of mountains served as home to an equally ancient mining town down in the eastern valley, Shor's Stone. It was there that Saya first heard the rumors of a dragon roaming about from a passing troupe of adventurers which were boasting just a little too loudly at the local tavern. Naturally, she confronted them and pried more and more details out of the party.

In the process, she learned two things. One, the dragon had taken a liking for hit-and-run tactics, and supposedly preyed upon passing travelers by swooping down and taking them up into the mountains to eat in peace and quiet. Two, they had already met an odd pair on their way to the mines, which led all the way to the peak. A blonde Nord woman in heavy armor and a smaller, more skittish Imperial who seemed to act as some kind of squire.

Armed with that knowledge, the Dragonborn moved out at her earliest convenience. The mineshaft at Northwind's base was not quite abandoned, but it definitely looked like it hadn't seen people for a couple of weeks. The inner tunnels twisted and turned, eventually leading outside to the mountainside. There, much older stairs led her upwards to the peak, where she found a large clearing with a couple of small huts and a word wall off in the distance, beneath a large rocky spire.

Finally, the dragon's great corpse lay in the middle of it all. Covered in wounds, the beast's lifeless stare was pointed towards the sky, its mouth open and its severed tongue lying just beside the head. Sitting across from it was the victorious combatant - a tall, armored woman covered in warpaint, currently hissing as the Imperial man in simple leathers was helping her dress her wounds. So, the Dunmer put on her best people voice and calmly approached them.


What the fuuuuuuuu

I mean I shouldn't be surprised. I don't think. Right? But still, I'm damn impressed! A dragon, just the two of them! I mean yeah, I took out dragons with just Lydia and myself before too, but I mean- I have the Thu'um and stuff. They don't.

I should probably stop.

So, Mjoll the Lioness. We hit off pretty well, I think. I gave her a potion or two to help with the burns, gods know they're a bloody bother otherwise. From there, the conversation moved on to why she was here to begin with. Seems obvious in hindsight, but rumors like this take time to travel, so the Jarl had actually put up a bounty for the dragon - and Mjoll, of course, leapt at the opportunity.

Aerin, her friend that she brought along, wasn't there by choice so much as by obligation. Good lad just wouldn't let her go on her own. And with good reason, too - had he not been there, she'd probably have succumbed to her injuries after the fight, assuming she would have survived at all.

Anyway, the bounty also called for proof, with all the self proclaimed dragon slayers and whatnot, so now we're also lugging back the dragon's skull. I told the pair that I wanted to inspect the area a bit and absorbed the soul once they left. Maybe not the best move, but I think I would rather not piss on their parade or make them think I want to claim the reward. And I'm saving the Grimsever thing for when we're back at Riften, as well.

Actually, I just got an idea. I'll go write a little message for Fortunata, just to check for permission.


Sundas, the 16th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201


The Bee and the Barb was a fine establishment, especially for the city it was in. Spacious but cozy, with a decent amount of clientele but not so much that it'd be overcrowded, and overall there was not much to complain about. The only two things that could spoil the mood were the occasional pickpocket and the slight lack of variety among conventional drinks. Saya wasn't one for mead, but she would imagine it gets quite tiring when every establishment in town serves the same Black-Briar stuff. Though even then, she had to commend the owners' creativity - using the commonly available alcohol and ingredients as base, the menu featured a few original cocktails and mixes made personally by Talen-Jei, the local server.

The Dragonborn, of course, more naturally gravitated to one reminding her of home, and therefore now sat at her table with a 'Cliff Racer' in hand. Now, Saya was no little girl and had a certain tolerance to alcohol, but she had to admit that this thing packed a punch. Wine, brandy, and not one but two different kinds of Morrowind booze - even though she was only halfway through the tankard she could already feel the buzz coming. Mjoll, meanwhile, was a simpler woman and instead settled for a bottle of tried and true nordic ale.

"So, what's your story?" The redhead propped her head up on her forearm, placing down her drink to take a slight breather. She had business to attend to, couldn't afford to get drunk. At least not too quickly. "I mean, it's not every Nordic girl that decides to spend her weekend hunting down house-sized lizards that fly around and breathe fire. Anything in particular get you into this business?"

The blonde chuckled slightly. "Yeah, I suppose not. I've been adventuring since I've been able to hold a blade. I traveled all over Tamriel - from High Rock to Valenwood, from Elsweyr to Morrowind and everything in between. And then, many years ago I ended up losing my blade, Grimsever, in a Dwemer ruin off to the northwest from here. Mzinchaleft, I think it was called." She took a sip of her drink, staring blankly into the table. It was obviously a less than pleasant memory. "It's a shame, but I took it as a sign to stop risking my life. I was lucky to have Aerin passing by at the time, he saw me crawling out of the ruin while I was bleeding to death. He saved me, brought me here. And, well, I've been trying to do my best to help this city since."

Saya laughed quietly from behind her tankard. "Fancy yourself a protector of the people?"

"Something like that." Mjoll shrugged. "Riften is a beautiful city, but the people here… They need someone to keep an eye on them, for more than one reason. Corruption, lies, and deceit are the order of the day here, and those Black-Briars are the root. Bribing officials, sponsoring thieves- I try to do what I can to protect the honest folk in the city, but I can only do so much." She sighed heavily, brushing her hair away from her face. "I'd like to think I'm making a difference, at least."

"A difference, huh…" Saya hummed, choosing her words carefully. "Well, I can definitely tell you that you made a difference in a lot of people's lives then. I've seen the kind of destruction those beasts can cause, and trust me - a dragon's boredom is no less dangerous than its anger."

There was a quiet moment as the two of them were both in thought. At one point, Maramal entered the tavern to preach his sermons to the local rabble. The word of Mara seemed to fall upon deaf ears, though, judging by the reactions of the patrons as well as Keerava, who not-so-gently asked the priest to leave the establishment. Saya giggled slightly, wondering how common of an occurrence this was.

"And what about you?" Finally, Mjoll asked. Saya lifted her eyes to see the woman looking at her expectantly. After witnessing the confused look, the Nord elaborated. "You look like you've seen your fair share of adventuring, too. Not to mention the fact you were walking into a dragon's lair alone, without any help. You must be either very brave, or a damn fool - and you don't really look like a fool."

The Dunmer leaned back in her seat, laughing before taking a hearty swig of the 'Cliff Racer' and immediately breaking into a cough afterwards. Vehk's loincloth, this stuff was nasty. "I have a few notches on my belt, let's put it that way. But that dragon is actually something I wanted to talk to you about." Saya moved her seat closer to the table, leaning in almost conspiratively. "How was it? The fight, I mean."

Mjoll's brows furrowed. "I already told you, didn't I? We found its nest empty and waited-"

"No no no, I'm not asking how the fight went." She waved her hand. "I'm asking you how it was. How it made you feel, how hard was it, you know?"

Mjoll hummed, thinking as she lifted one hand to scratch her chin. She didn't really consider it before, but if she gave it some thought… "It was exciting, definitely. But terrifying, too. The thing was already injured from something, but even despite that, I couldn't let my guard down for a moment or I would've died. It got my blood running, that's for sure." She laughed awkwardly, drinking some more to wash down the anxiety that dried her throat.

"Do you think you could do it again?" Mjoll's eyes darted at her with a certain degree of apprehension. "If prompted, I mean. I'm not telling you to go out and kill dragons for a hobby, but if you had to - do you think you could do it?"

The question definitely gave Mjoll pause. She was still coming down from the prideful afterglow of felling such a creature, but the prospect of doing it again seemed daunting, if a little exhilarating. "I… I guess I could. Why do you ask?"

Saya tented her fingers, wondering how best to say this. Her eyes darted to the sides, suspiciously checking for any kind of curious ears she should watch out for. After a thorough sweep of the room, though, there didn't seem to be anyone too curious about her business.

With a deep breath, she started to speak. "Dragons are a big threat, Mjoll. Bigger than one town, or one city. If they particularly wanted to, Riften would be torched to the ground in one evening. You've heard of Helgen, haven't you?" The woman nodded. "Right. And if they're not dealt with in a timely manner, they'll only get more dangerous. With all the madness happening in the world, there isn't any news from the other provinces about dragon sightings over there, yet. But I can guarantee that there are definitely some of them already giving greedy looks to other lands. This is much bigger than Skyrim. All of Tamriel could be in danger."

The Lioness pursed her lips, tapping the table tensely. She was growing uncomfortable with the pressure in the room. "Where are you leading with this?"

Saya took another gulp of her cocktail and wiped her mouth, speaking in a hushed tone. "I am part of a... Group, who are investigating the dragons and their return. And, when possible, I go out and deal with them. Sometimes with a partner, though I've been on a bit of a lone streak recently. My question to you is, would you be interested in joining?" Saya cocked her head, once again leaning back to try and alleviate some of the tension from the conversation. Making her feel threatened or cornered was the last thing the Dragonborn wanted.

Mjoll struggled to answer. Evidently, the question threw her off guard, leaving her not so slightly hesitant. "I'm… I understand that it's important, but I've spent such a long time here- and Aerin, too..."

The redhead lifted her tankard and downed the rest of the drink, placing the empty mug down on the table. "Well, I won't force you to do anything. All I'm saying is, you want to do good. And while I know it's not in my place to give you advice, I really think you could do more good out there than in here. Fighting corruption is good for the honest folk, no doubt there. But those things?" She pointed up, towards the ceiling and by proxy - the sky. "Honest or not, we all burn the same."

Mjoll did not respond, her expression growing yet darker at the perspective of abandoning the life she had spent years building up. There was a quiet moment where the Dragonborn let her deliberate, but eventually she got up from her seat and slung her pack over her shoulders. "In any case," Saya pushed the chair back under the table, some of her joints popping as she stretched after sitting for a while. "I've got some errands to run, so I'm afraid I can't stick around. Feel free to think on it for a while longer. Hope to see you later sometime." She gave a half-hearted wave before standing up and leaving, closing the door carefully behind herself.

The Lioness sat there for a while longer, slowly drinking her ale til her tankard was empty, and then ordering a second round for good measure. This was definitely something to think about… But it could wait until tomorrow, at least. She wasn't in a hurry and besides, she had some celebrating to do.

So celebrate she did, and only when nightfall already held dominion over the streets did she get back home. Arriving at Aerin's house in the late hours of the evening, the warrior was happy to relieve herself of the weight of her armor and weaponry and slide into a nice hot bath before bedtime. Without much else to do, then, she waited for her hair to dry and made her way over to bed. Aerin was already sound asleep, but just as she was about to take the dive into unconsciousness did she notice something on the table.

It was a package wrapped in rough, dirty cloth. Upon some inspection, Mjoll recognized the object as something that Saya had been carrying around throughout the day, strapped to her back so it wouldn't get in the way of her movement. Next to it was a note in the Dunmer girl's handwriting:

"If you decide you're up for it, then go to the Karthspire, over in the Reach. One of my associates will meet you there.

The package is some extra incentive. Sorry Lydia couldn't get it to you herself."

Mjoll raised an eyebrow at the last sentence and set the note aside. The cloth was tied together with a very thin rope, which she quickly cut with a dagger and unwrapped the not-so-little present she had been given.

As the glimmer of Grimsever's malachite blade peaked from under the cloth, Mjoll knew she had made up her mind.


By the Three, this "Ragged Flagon" will never not be stressful to be in. I assume there's some kind of "no stealing from other thieves" unspoken rule in place, but that doesn't exactly apply to me, so now here I am, looking over my shoulder every few minutes while waiting for this Illia girl to show up. One of her mates went to call her over from some "members-only" hideout I assume.

I think she remembers me. I mean, she'd better. After that bullshit she pulled at the embassy, I'm not forgetting a favor owed.


"There you are. I was half-expecting to be told you're out with how long you took to show up." The redhead gave a strained smile. Her eye was getting twitchy from the constant glancing around, and she was not willing to drink anything from here - especially not in the presence of actual pickpockets.

The Imperial woman before her rolled her eyes, lowering her hood as she sat down. Still the same as Saya remembered - tan skin, black eyes. Her hair looked a fair bit longer than she remembered, though, and was now tied back into a low ponytail. "Hysterical. I assume you came for business?"

"You could say that." Saya popped her fingers idly. A few folks had been looking over at her table for a while, but with the girl here the amount of attention was drastically reduced. This was somewhat relaxing, though it left Saya wondering if this one was some kind of big shot in the Guild. "That stone that I gave you back at the Embassy. You said that if I ever needed your Guild's services, you'd help me out. I've come to call in that favor."

Illia snorted, a crooked smile appearing on her features. "I had a feeling that would come back and bite me." She shrugged, leaning back in her seat. "A debt is a debt. What do you want me to snatch? Money, gems, papers? Some trinket you fancy? As a heads up, I'm much better at location sweeps rather than a personal hit, but if you insist…"

The Dragonborn was slightly amused by the unprompted portfolio presentation, but not enough to let her prattle on too long. With a wave, she interrupted. "I'm not entirely sure what kind of job it'll be, might be a mixed bag with a bit of everything. Or, who knows - it could be a matter of just asking a few questions to the right people." Saya cleared her throat, speaking a bit quieter. "I'm looking for information - absolutely anything that you can find - about an individual by the name 'Miraak'. It could be a pseudonym or a nickname, but that seems to be the moniker everyone calls him by."

Illia crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. The Thieves Guild were good at their job, and it was true that they occasionally performed spywork for hire. Normally, it would be more akin to breaking in and stealing documents here and there, or tailing a person to find out where they lived or what their business was. Straight up sending a thief on an information search like this, though… It was something new, to say the least.

"Miraak, huh… It's not ringing any bells for me." She mumbled. It didn't sound like a local name, or anything that one could encounter in the Empire. Definitely some kind of pseudonym. Or maybe some Argonian or another, sounds bizarre enough for their unpronounceable mess of a language. "Well, 'anything you can find' is rather generous but vagueness isn't something I like when it comes to negotiating terms. Is there anything specific you're looking for?"

Saya scratched her chin, pausing to think for a moment before she replied. "Location. I want to know where he is, or everywhere he could be if you can't narrow it down to a single point. Also, activity records. Past, present, future - don't care. I want to know everything he has been, is, or will be involved in. Operations, gatherings, it doesn't matter. If it's a lead, it's good enough."

Now, most folks at the Guild (and their purses, especially) could testify that Illia's poker face was top notch. However, even she had to resist the urge to sigh in irritation at the… Zealously delivered details. This would be a long one, wouldn't it… "Speaking of which, I can't exactly drag your 'Miraak' out from under the ground. Do you have any leads for me to work from? Connections, places, people to investigate?"

"Yeah, though not a lot." Saya sorted through her backpack, pulling out the all-too-familiar white carved mask from the Riverwood attackers, identical to the one from Ustengrav. "The mark himself is a cult leader. I interrogated one of his followers and, though his replies were very spotty, he said that he was an employee at the East Empire Trading Company. They were just leaving from some kind of small trading town on the coast of an island when people wearing this-" she slid the object over to Illia's side of the table, "-boarded the ship and asked for passage to Skyrim. First time I'd seen any of the masked fetchers was around the tail-end of Last Seed, so I guess your starting point is the shipping records from around that time."

"EETC, huh…" Illia leaned back, humming.

Saya cocked an eyebrow. "Is something in the matter?"

The thief shook her head. "No, nothing. Just… Convenient timing." She mused quietly for another minute before nodding to herself. "Alright, I'll do it. I already gave my word and everything."

Saya nodded. "That you did. But just in case…" Illia watched curiously as the Dunmer pulled out a relatively sizable purse of coin and put it on the table, handing it over to the surprised Imperial. At her bewildered look, she only responded: "Consider it extra incentive. Or collateral. I'm not rushing you, but I need this done. Deal?" She reached out, offering Illia her right hand.

The girl pulled the purse closer to herself and opened it slightly, peeking inside. Judging by the weight, there was probably a few hundred in there… Not bad, party crasher, not bad at all. "Deal." Illia replied, shaking Saya's hand in turn.


Morndas, the 17th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201


So I woke up today thinking that I definitely forgot something, but couldn't remember what it is for the life of me until I opened the journal and wrote the date on the page.

So uh… Happy 111th birthday to me?

Gods, I'm getting old. Is this that 'midlife crisis' thing I kept getting told about? No, that doesn't make sense. 200 is way too young to die, isn't it? I think it is. I don't PLAN on dying that early that's for sure.

I wanted to celebrate, but I'm not really sure how. And I definitely have reservations about spending money in this dump.

I guess I'll go back to business. I did have a bit of a backlog, let's see… Oh, right. That Durak guy did say that the Dawnguard is east of here, in the mountains. I'll go check that out, then.


The description of the entrance that Durak told Saya about left her with… Mixed feelings. At first, everything looked nice and inconspicuous. The majority of the journey followed the road out of the city, amongst the golden-leafed trees. Although, that was not a very accurate descriptor anymore. Sure, she remembered them as full of golden leaves, but now those leaves lay in amorphous piles on the ground, covering the cold earth with patternless blots of red, orange, yellow, and everything in-between. This was beautiful in its own way of course, but the sight of the naked birch trees definitely soured the picture in her mind.

One she crossed a stone bridge just a few minutes short of the Skyrim-Morrowind border, she took a sharp left as instructed. There, off the cobblestone road, she could faintly see a beaten path in the grass, leading up to a cavernous opening in the mountains. The Dragonborn hopped off her horse's back and entered on her own two feet, gently leading Annie by the reins. The opening was rather large, which ticked Saya's paranoia a little bit, but at least her mount seemed to appreciate the space.

The view on the other side was breathtaking. The mountain ridges parted, opening into a grand canyon that stretched between the cliffsides, as if embraced by them. The grassy valley was lined with flowers and trees, some already chopped down and some still waving their branches in the wind. Looking upwards, she could see the peaks of the Velothi, pelted in snow and ice that gradually melted from the sun's heat, giving start to tiny streams. In turn, those little creeks converged into a mighty river that ended in a massive waterfall, feeding into the large lake below. The lake itself, then, seemed to flow elsewhere, as the chunks of ice floating on its surface slowly were drawn in one direction - towards yet another cave, it seems. Now that she thought about it, there was a river on the other side of the border outpost, wasn't there?

"Oh, hey there!" The Dunmer's ears twitched at the call. She turned, seeing a previously unnoticed human that was sitting on a boulder by the lake, who rose to meet her. A Nord, judging by the complexion and height, but couldn't be too old if his face and voice were anything to go off. He was dressed in simple peasant clothing, and a well-worn iron axe was hanging off his hip. "Are you here to join the Dawnguard, too?"

Saya shrugged. She only really came here because of a checklist, so… "No, I haven't decided yet. Just checking out because of a friend's recommendation."

"Ah. Okay." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, clearing his throat. "Well, my name is Agmaer. I'm... Truth is, I'm a little nervous. I've never done anything like this before, and I'm pretty far from home. I hope you don't mind if I walk with you?"

The redhead gave him a curious look up and down. The lad seemed nice, but way too green for something like vampire hunting. Then again, if he was already here then there was little use in trying to talk him out of anything. Besides, if he was really unfit then maybe the leader would just refuse to accept him to begin with and set him on his way. Not really her responsibility, at that point. "Sure."

Agmaer's eyes lit up as he followed her quickly. "Thank you!" He said, a little louder than necessary. Saya chuckled quietly but made no comment, instead following the trail uphill. There, off in the distance, they could now see the massive stone fortress towering above a series of makeshift wooden walls. Huh, so that's where the trees went.

"So if you don't mind me asking, why the Dawnguard?"

Agmaer's expression soured a bit. "Yeah, I guess I don't look like much of a fighter. You've probably killed lots of vampires, haven't you?" Saya didn't respond, still waiting for him to answer. Seeing that evading the question wasn't really an option, he sighed. "I heard the rumors about what's going on. The Dawnguard reforming, the vampires running around, the Vigilants… I wanted to help, so here I am. That's all."

She smiled a bit. "Altruism, then. As good a reason as any, I suppose."

As they walked through the open gates, the exterior of the fortress presented itself. There were lots of tools lying around, planks and logs in the middle of being cut or sanded down, and overall - the whole place had the appearance of a builder camp in the middle of work. Only, those builders all wore armor with the same insignia - a shield engulfed in flames, imitating the rising sun.

A familiar Orc face turned upon hearing their entry. "Well well, you finally made it. Good." This was, of course, Durak. Now that he wasn't wearing his helmet, it was possible to see his grey hair, which was tied into a warrior's wolftail. In his hands, he was holding a device that Saya recognized - a crossbow, he called it? Dwemer automatons sometimes had something similar mounted on their limbs, acting as a powerful ranged weapon, though it took a good amount of time to reload. "Isran is inside the fort, just up there. He'll sort you out." He pointed in the direction of the entrance, after which his eyes drifted to Agmaer. "Who's the kid?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "A new recruit. Met him down the trail back by the lake." Saya then turned, seeing that Agmaer looked a bit anxious, and decided to play diplomat a bit. "Agmaer, this is Durak. Durak, Agmaer."

"O-oh, um- Nice to meet you, sir." The young man snapped out of his stupor, giving a slight bow.

The Orc laughed, putting his crossbow over his shoulder. "I'm no 'sir', boy. We're not soldiers, and this isn't the army you're joining."

"Yes, si-... Durak." The Nord corrected himself, his cheeks growing a little pink from embarrassment. Saya rolled her eyes, snickering internally as she walked onwards towards the entrance to the fort. As she left, Durak seemed to ask the lad if he'd ever seen a crossbow before, but that was of no real interest to the Dragonborn so she quietly tuned out the conversation. The man standing guard in front of the gates gave her a small greeting as she entered, and she responded in kind before pushing the door open.

The entry hall of the fort was a large, circular chamber that stretched far upwards - maybe two or three floors, by Saya's guesstimation. That, or just a really high ceiling. The interior was lined with crates and displaced equipment, and overall matched the outside in its messy state. In the center, two men were having a conversation, one of them wearing the Dawnguard armor while the other was in the robes that Saya recognized as something the Vigilants wore whenever she encountered them.

"-Isran, Carcette is dead. The Hall of the Vigilants, everyone… They're all dead. You were right. We were wrong. Isn't that enough for you?" The Vigilant said, his tone bitter and his deep voice wavering a bit. It seems as though she was interrupting something.

"Yes, well…" The Redguard, Isran, took a pause and sighed, shaking his head. "I never wanted for any of this to happen. I tried to warn you, Tolan… I'm sorry. You know I am." As he lowered his gaze, he seemed to notice Saya enter, at which point he rapidly switched his demeanor and his expression became a lot more stoic. "You there. What do you want?"

The Dunmer resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Is that how you plan to greet recruits? Because if I'm interrupting something here…" She raised her hands in surrender, taking a step back.

Isran grumbled, though it was unclear if it's because of Saya's behavior or because it just clicked with him that he should've probably moved the earlier conversation to somewhere a bit more private. "Don't worry about it." He waved it off begrudgingly, shooting Tolan a look which wordlessly communicated that they'd continue this conversation some other time. "So, you got a fire in your belly to kill vampires? Or are you just a pretty face looking around? Because there's not much to see yet, so you can be on your merry way if you're not looking to join."

Man, he really needs someone else to handle recruits for him. "You think my face is pretty? I'm flattered." She said in a flat, deadpan tone. "But the vampire business interests me more. I figured you guys needed help, and I did give Durak a hand back in the day. So… If there's work to be done, I'm all ears."

"Ah, so it was you." Isran's displeased expression softened somewhat with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Right into the thick of it. I like your enthusiasm. Tolan, tell her what you told me about that place- what was it, Darkhollow? Nighthollow?"

"Dimhollow. Dimhollow Keep." The Vigilant corrected, turning to face Saya. Now, she could get a better look at his features - yet another tall Nord with a big hammer behind his back and a cleanly shaven head, the only real hair on his face being dirty blond sideburns that strongly emphasized his rather wide chin. "As you might have noticed, the vampires have taken a much more active stance recently. Just a few years ago, a guard could go a lifetime of service without ever sighting one, but now it seems like they're sprawling all over, and they're much less subtle about it. Brother Adalvald and I believe the reason for it is because they were searching for something, and now that they know where to look - they've forgotten the meaning of subtlety and don't care to remember."

Saya scratched her chin. She had been wondering why the vampires were growing more active recently for seemingly no reason, but never really bothered to ask. An active search does explain things, however. "Makes sense. And that something is…?"

"An ancient keep, built almost three thousand years ago. In the first half of the First Era, a great alliance of vampires, werewolves, undead, and other such fiends had gathered in Hammerfell, spreading to neighboring lands like an infection." He shook his head. "Dimhollow Keep was one of their outposts, one where something important must have been sealed away for the vampires to suddenly start caring about it now. Brother Adalvald thought it was some kind of ancient artifact, hidden away inside that Keep, but he was at the Hall when it was attacked, so…" Tolan lowered his eyes, his fingers involuntarily curling into a fist.

Saya pursed her lips. She didn't have much stake in this, but at the same time she didn't exactly feel comfortable trying to boss around people she didn't know, much less those in mourning. Besides, vampires were a threat regardless of their goals, and if they've grown organized enough to destroy the Vigilants, then it wasn't something she could just ignore.

Well, she could. But it would be a sore spot on her consciousness.

"Alright, good enough for me. Can you tell me where it is? Or actually, here. Mark it and I'll be off." She handed her map to the Vigilant before turning to Isran. "I'm going to level with you, vampires aren't my usual repertoire. Is there anything around here that I could use and you wouldn't miss?"

"Nothing in particular. We're working on getting potions going, but for now we've only got one per member." Isran said, crossing his arms. He then nodded to the side, towards one of the crates. Her eyes traveled in the same direction, and she could see a couple of crossbows lying by the wall, a number of packs full of bolts beside them. "You could always take a crossbow, if you've got the steady hand for it. Good for taking out those fiends before they have a chance to see you or get close, but you'll want to get used to it first. Fumble the reload, and it's your neck on the line."

Saya gave the crossbow a look over and picked it up. Heavy and bulky, but she could vouch for it packing a punch. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to try."

"I'll meet you at Dimhollow, then." Tolan said, his heavy metal boots clinking against the stone floor as he stepped towards the door. "It's the least I can do after what happened at the Hall, and you might need help with all those vermin."

At that point, Isran reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Tolan, I don't think that's a good idea. You Vigilants were never trained for-"

"I know what you think of us, Isran." The Vigilant snapped back, pushing away. "You think we're soft, that we're cowards. You think what happened at the Hall proved our weakness. But you best hear me, Isran, when I plead that Stendarr may grant a drop of his mercy to you so that you do not face the same test as us and be found wanting." Tolan was staring Isran down in the eye at this point, demonstrating the height difference between the two men quite acutely. "I'm going to Dimhollow Crypt. If not for my comrades, then for my own sake. And you're not stopping me."

"Alright, you two, I think that's-"

Whatever Saya intended to say while playing peacekeeper was then suddenly interrupted by the sound of the entrance gates being slammed shut by a draft. Everyone in the room turned sharply at whoever left them open to begin with, and the person in question almost shrank where he stood. The silence hung heavy in the air, until it was finally broken by a meek, nervous voice.

"A-am I interrupting something?" Agmaer asked.

Saya's only response was silently lifting a palm to her face. So much for moving the conversation somewhere private.


Tirdas, the 18th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201


Alright, so Dimhollow is a hell of a trek, therefore I stayed the night at Riften before moving out today. I did take one of the crossbows with me, though I'm not sure how much I'm actually going to use this thing. It's good for a quick shot, but reloading it in the heat of things would probably be a bitch.

Tolan left for Dimhollow before I did, so he probably has a day's headstart or so on me. Good for him. Maybe he can do some scouting work by the time I catch up.

I, meanwhile, will make a stop at Whiterun before I go to the crypt. I didn't stock up on anything in Riften, so I'll have to buy some food here and maybe a few potions to stave off vampirism, should I need them. Or, for that matter, maybe I'll encounter some people close by who might need medical help, then I won't have to send them off empty-handed at least.

Oh, right, healing potions.

I'll try to get more practice with the crossbow just in case I need it. The Jorrvaskr has some good targets for that. Maybe I'll find someone willing to spar, too. The folks there seem open to it, especially if you throw in a wager.


Middas, the 19th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201


Nothing like a fistfight in the morning to wake you up. I'm owed two bottles and I owe one, so all's fair. Their targets are a little fucked, though. I don't think they were made with this much force in mind.

Well, nobody caught me breaking them so not my problem.

I got everything I could theoretically need and saddled back up. Or, well, that's not really the right word. Since I was going underground, I decided to leave Annie behind this time around and lug my stuff on my own back. My ass was starting to feel sore from all the riding anyway.


The Red Road was uneventful for most of the journey, but I did meet this Khajiit caravan along the way. We chatted for a little while until we reached the intersection where I had to start going up the mountains. I bought some earrings from them, don't really know why, just thought they looked good.

Maybe I can enchant them in some way. Or maybe I'll just wear them because they look pretty. Got them at a discount anyway.

Now that I think back to it, they seemed to be in some kind of hurry when they left. I wonder if I was holding them up.

So… I'm at the spot, but there's nothing here. It's getting really late so I don't think I can look around, and Tolan isn't anywhere to be found either.


I'll set up camp between the trees, at least that way nobody should immediately see or smell me. Vampires sleep during the day too so that might give me an advantage.

Though that's me assuming they actually need sleep and don't just do it to pass time.

Hm. Wait, didn't I already think about this? Bit early to be going senile.


Turdas, the 20th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201


When Saya woke up, it was in cold sweat and with the sound of footsteps stabbing at her eardrums. She had to physically cover her own mouth to keep herself from making any noise, struggling to even out her panicked breath. Her eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings - it was still nighttime, but the moons were nowhere to be found, and she could just barely see the darkness flowing into a dark blue. The sun was yet to rise, but it was close, and the dots immediately connected in her head as she heard the conversation coming from behind the trees.

"-any bright ideas, I'm all ears."

"Don't patronize me, you oaf. If Lokil knew how to get inside the chambers, he would've done so already."

Saya held her sword at the ready as she crept closer, leaving her belongings where they were so as to not make extra noise by picking them up. There were two people that she could see, and both of them were vampires if their paleness was any indication. The first one to speak was a blonde woman, either Nord or Imperial, with a dagger strapped on her lower back. The second was a male Imperial, judging by the slightly darker, if still unnaturally pale skin tone, the black hair tied into a neat ponytail, and the lack of a discernible accent.

"Well I wish he'd hurry it up, we've been here for weeks. I have half a mind to return to the castle alone and tell Harkon what a fool he's entrusted this mission to." The female vampire huffed, crossing her arms in annoyance.

"And I have half a mind to tell Lokil a thing or two of your disloyalty so that he sends you back in pieces, instead. Besides, I was told that he managed to catch one of those Vigilants snooping around the Hall wreckage yesterday. It won't be long until he gives us what we want." The Dunmer replied coolly, approaching the cliff where Saya had been yesterday. The Dragonborn squinted, confused as the vampire lifted one of his arms and began to wave his arms around in bizarre motions, before suddenly the mountainside lit up red. Where once was plain stone, there was now a crimson glyph, and the pair casually stepped through the wall, the illusion rippling behind them like water.

Saya cursed quietly, running back to her things and packing up frantically before slinging the backpack on her shoulders and inspecting the wall again. Now that she tried to get in, it was completely solid again. The Dragonborn attempted to replicate the gestures from memory, but that didn't exactly work as intended since she couldn't recall how the motions began. After trying to fruitlessly dispel the illusion multiple times, she finally gave up and tried her last resort - Become Ethereal.

Stepping through, Saya entered a winding dark tunnel. It was rather obvious that it was created with vampires in mind, as not a single light decorated the walls. She quickly conjured a small flame in her hand as soon as she became material, finding the tunnel to be a descending staircase. One had to note how neat everything was: the stairs were laid out of stone bricks, and it was obvious that it was laid out - not carved out. Looking around, Saya saw not the rough cavern walls that she expected, but a carefully constructed corridor with a tall ceiling that arched over her, decorated with iconographic depictions of bats and wolves.

She continued down the stairs until she finally reached an opening, extinguishing her light source. As the caverns before her opened, her eyes similarly shot wide open and she held her breath. Instead of an underground system of tunnels, she found herself standing upon a wide balcony a good hundred feet into the air, looking out into a massive hollow cavern that seemed to stretch under the entire mountain, to the point where she was really unsure if it was natural or not. Now, Saya was never really one with a fear of heights, but nonetheless she felt her knees wobble a bit when she approached the railing and looked beyond.

What she saw was a ruin, yes, but a ruin that seemed to defy ruination. It was a massive grey palace, with large windows of stained glass and gothic spires that reached towards the ceiling, some peaking early as spear-like protrusions while others turned into tall columns that looked like they were almost supporting the cave itself. Large windows of ruby-colored stained glass contrasted with the monochrome structure, radiating a faint scarlet glow that highlighted the onyx-black pieces depicting abstract images of horrific nocturnal creatures holding or drinking from malformed horned skulls. Nightmarish sculptures lined the path from the castle, winged chimeras perched upon the highest of highs as they looked down with their eyeless gaze as a winding path of colored squares led all the way up to the balcony upon which Saya stood.

And, as is par for the course, the redhead immediately grabbed her notebook and started sketching it down.


I honestly don't know what to say. I'm at an actual loss of words.

This thing is… Beautiful, honestly. But also terrifying. I think this was some kind of vampire ruin judging by the stained glass, but I've never heard of anything like a vampire civilization. I can't even begin to make up my mind on how I feel about this.

On one hand I'm mesmerized. It's… Almost a bit haunting.

But on the other hand, I can't help but feel a chill knowing that the vampires could've made something like this right here, right under everyone's noses… How many people might've disappeared without a trace during that time, only to end up here?

And this was just an outpost?

Agh, I hate this. I love this, but I hate this so, so much.


Morrowind was not the safest province in the world, and Saya could admit that as readily as any other Dunmer who lived there for longer than a week. But never once in all her years spent in that ashen corner of the world did she feel this intimidated while walking in an alley. The normality of the paved road and the lightless lampposts only added to the uncanny feeling. It wasn't the kind of fear that you could identify and resist, but more like a creeping tickle at the back of your brain that something was wrong. The Dragonborn pushed through regardless, of course, but she still could not shake off the feeling of being watched.

Those damn statues were really starting to freak her out.

Her footsteps grew more careful once she started approaching the castle entrance. The street opened into a wide square, a beautiful but non-functional fountain standing in the center. Next to it, a group of vampires were arguing about something. Two of them, Saya recognized as the vampires from earlier. Three others were new faces, and one of them seemed of slightly grander disposition - a Nord with a silver mohawk, presumably the aforementioned Lokil that the others reported to.

"My patience is wearing thin, Vigilant. Sooner or later, you will tell us what we want." The Dunmer spoke to someone, leaning down by the fountain. Saya crept around, hiding behind one of the pillars by the side of the road to get a better look. Much to her dismay, she recognized the bloodied and battered form of Tolan lying on the ground, his hands bound and his injuries making it difficult to breathe.

The Vigilant let out a weak laugh, which quickly turned into a cough. "I am no fool, vampire, and I'm not telling you a damn thing. Brother Adalvald did, and that's why he is dead and you are here." He lifted his eyes, spitting at the Dunmer. "My oath to Stendarr is stronger than any suffering you can inflict upon me. Waste your time all you want, all the better for me."

"Why you-" The vampire raised his hand, but Lokil stepped up from behind him, grabbing him by the wrist before he could do anything.

"I believe you, Vigilant." The vampire took a knee, now at eye level with Tolan. Saya couldn't see, but Tolan likely grimaced from the proximity. "Your 'brother' served his purpose by leading us here. He knew nothing. And you..." There was a sudden wet squelch as the vampire thrust his clawed hand into the Vigilant's chest before pulling back out. Tolan let out a strangled gasp before dropping dead where he was, but the vampire wasn't looking at him anymore. Instead, the object of his attention was some kind of small trinket in his hand. "...have already served your purpose by coming here."

Lokil's smirk was immediately wiped off his face as he heard a shriek come from behind him. He whipped around to look what the commotion was about, seeing two of his allies collapse onto the floor as their skin and flesh burned to ashes. The man immediately got back up onto his feet, looking around frantically while his remaining allies spread out to avoid getting caught in another similar blast. He continued looking around for a brief moment before stopping to sniff the air and grinning as he looked at the empty fountain, approaching it while powerful magicks gathered in his hand.

The moment he leaned over, Saya grabbed him by the mohawk and plunged her anti-undead dagger right under his chin. The searing pain dulled his senses and he didn't even feel himself tumble over the edge, falling onto the cold stone as she once again thrust her dagger into him, this time straight into the heart. The two scouts had immediately come to their senses, the girl immediately charging in with claws at the ready while the older bloodsucker stood back and conjured a magical shock in his palm.

Saya slipped around the column at the center of the fountain, evading the bolt of lightning which harmlessly dissipated as it hit the dry stone. The blonde woman leapt after her, growling as the redhead circled around and evaded her strikes. The other vampire grew visibly annoyed as well, preparing yet another blast but releasing it immediately as Saya quickly turned and threw the dagger into his hand, followed immediately by a firebolt to the chest that sent him stumbling back.

With that distraction off the board, Saya turned to her unarmed opponent. Just as she charged in with another swipe, the Dragonborn grasped her forearm and pushed down on the elbow, bringing her down from her feet and pressing her knee in the middle of her back. Then, she grabbed the squirming fiend by the head and slammed her nose-first into the stone floor, hearing a crack echo off the cave walls. Finally, she grasped the vampire by the temples and poured all the magicka she could muster in the moment into a blast of scorching heat, handprints burning into the girl's skull as she thrashed around in pain before perishing at last.

Not wasting a moment, Saya unsheathed Stormblade and vaulted over the fountain wall, running up to the remaining Dunmer who had just found his footing again. Demonstrating his quick thinking, the vampire immediately conjured a bound blade with which to deflect her slash. Saya didn't let this throw her off balance, though, as she used the momentum to fall down and sweep at his legs. Having lost his balance once again, the mage didn't have much to defend with when she got back up and leapt forward with a plunging strike, sinking her sword straight into his eye and twisting it for good measure.

When the adrenaline finally stopped burning in her veins and her pulse slowed down again, the Dragonborn withdrew her weapon, standing in silence while the blood dripped down from it. She inspected the bodies for anything useful, coming across the medallion that Lokil coveted so. It was a small thing, really. A bit larger than a coin, a small circle of dark metal that let off a pulsing sensation at her fingertips. At first, she thought nothing of it, moving on from the corpses as she continued to inspect the trinket, when she noticed a faint glow.

Saya stopped, looking closer. Indeed, a faint red light was beginning to emanate from the almost invisible crevices within the amulet's surface. She took a step back, and the light vanished. A step forward, and it intensified. It was when she finally lifted her head that she noticed similar glyphs showing on the surface of the door, and upon further inspection, she noticed a small circular crevice in its surface. Without a moment's wait, she placed the amulet within.

As the magical mechanism of the gatehouse finally opened and allowed her inside, Saya only gave the corpse of the Vigilant a passing glance before plunging into the darkness.


Walking through this feels like one of those weird High Rock entertainment facilities I heard about. Y'know, where they drag people around "haunted" empty buildings for money? I'm beginning to see the charm. Empty rooms, broken furniture, really atmospheric.

Haha I don't like this at all actually. I want to go home now.

It's pretty. No, really, it has more decorations than the bloody Jarl palaces that I've been to. The furniture is made out of some kind of dark wood that I don't recognize, but it's really damn sturdy. Would've probably made a decent shield, but I can't be bothered to drag a hunk of wood with me just to try.

It has a fun color, though. A really nice and dark blueish-purple. Easy on the eyes.

I picked up various trinkets I found on the way. There were quite a few living rooms, most of them locked, but none of them empty. Candlesticks, goblets, the occasional piece of jewelry, even an enchanted ring or two.

The reason why I say "or two" is because I can't figure out for the life of me how these work. I can tell there's some magic involved, but whatever the enchantment is, it refuses to activate. I'm thinking there might be some kind of code word or trigger, but poking at it blindly definitely won't help me figure it out.

If all else fails, I can always bring it to someone who knows better.

There was a nice library in one of the chambers, too. All the books were really old and basically unreadable, though. Some have started to rot, some got chewed up by rats, and some got glued solid by the constant exposure to moisture underground.

I did find something useful, though - it looked like some kind of schematic for the keep. Right now I was in the eastern wing, and the building was shaped like a ring around an inner courtyard. If I keep walking north from here, I should come across something called "storage", and from there I'll be able to go out the back.

Candlelight be with me.


Metal bars. She'd gotten tired of counting them after the first few dozen, but it was a nice enough distraction while it lasted.

The Dragonborn felt slightly foolish in hindsight. This place wasn't the armory, or the library, or some kind of basement. Besides, she'd passed by all kinds of rooms by then. Living rooms, private rooms, halls, ruined laboratories and stockrooms, even a lounge or two. She also saw the courtyard through the windows, though didn't deem it anything worthy of visiting. Nonetheless, this 'storage' room was still a perplexing entity to her. What would they be storing that they couldn't have put anywhere else?

That was when she saw the skeletons, and it clicked. Food.

'Storage' was an apt name, she supposed. But if one were to give it a better description, it'd be 'pens'. Cages and cages and cages, filling the sides of the massive chamber. Within them, withered corpses - skeletons, even. People chained down to the metal bars confining them, some of them curled up eternally in agonizing pain, some collapsed from exhaustion clutching the bars, some reaching outside of their cells. Put in here like cattle, nothing more but blood sacs for their overlords to feast upon. Screaming out in pain.

"Please, no more…"

Wait, what?

Saya stopped in her tracks, looking around the room as the maddening echo made the source of the noise just that much more annoying to pinpoint. At last, when she turned back, she found it. The Dunmer's eyes had already gotten used to the darkness, so it was not a shadow, but a flicker of light that caught her attention. A luminous light blue figure sitting in one of the cells, curled up and scratching at its head. The ghastly man kept murmuring to himself, his shoulders shaking as though he was crying.

When the brief bout of surprise subsided, the Dragonborn lowered her blade and calmed herself. Just a stray spirit, lost in its own ramblings. Nothing to fear.

Pushing it out of her mind, Saya recalled the route she had been taking so far and continued onwards, ignoring the ghost. But as she left, she soon noticed he was not the only one. The noise of ethereal chains rattling soon drowned out her footsteps and joined the discordant wailing. Apparitions sparked up left and right, shackled to large metal rings protruding from the floor, allowing them to walk around their cells but not an inch further. They shouted and struggled against their restraints, the Dragonborn walking with visible discomfort as the passages she navigated turned into tunnels of outstretched hands.

Then, she tripped. The Dunmer fell to the floor with a grunt, glancing down to see that one of the hands reached out of the cell to grab her by the ankle. She quickly kicked it away, backing up to make some distance between herself and the assailant, only to feel her back pressed against the bars.

"Food?"

"Ahh, finally!"

"Dinner."

"Please, anything will do-"

"So hungry."

"It hurts…"

"Just a little piece, just a little, just a little, just a little-"

One by one, dozens of hands grasped at her, trying to pull her in. Tugging at her cloak, clawing at her armor, pulling down her hood and reaching for the face. As quickly as her strength allowed her, she tore her left hand out of their cold grip and pulled out the golden dagger, cutting herself free from the prying fingers. Screams rang out, this time not of desperation but instead of pain, and the Dunmer got back up to her feet with a shaky breath. She watched with a mounting sense of horror as the ghosts fell over one another, all reaching for her with fingerless hands and salivating like rabid dogs.

And that's when she heard the sound of chains breaking.

Like a swarm, the ghosts started tripping over one another, grappling her and dragging her to the ground as they all scrambled to have a taste. Saya's scream got stuck in her throat as she felt dozens of jaws all close around her, digging into her flesh despite her best efforts to struggle. She felt cold and hot at the same time, and her vision was starting to darken as her eyes rolled back. Dizziness gripped her mind and the pain was beginning to feel so much more distant, like her consciousness was drifting away.

A sharp smell that Saya couldn't immediately recognize suddenly stabbed her nostrils. A jolt coursed through her body and she sat up, every nerve ending tingling under her skin. Her eyes shot open and she gasped for a breath, light filling her vision. Or… No, not light, but a glow. The faint glow of ectoplasm, splattered across the walls, the floor, the ceiling. The screams have gone silent, instead replaced with scratching, growling, and chewing. What used to be luminous forms of men and women broken by their own suffering looked more like a formless mess of feral humanoids tearing each other apart in bloody pandemonium, inky bile dribbling from their every orifice before fizzling out into pitch-black smoke the moment it touched the floor.

It was then that Saya's mind finally drew the connection, and she realized what this was she was smelling. It was nauseating. It was headache-inducing. It was dizzying. It was disgusting and alluring at the same time, making her want to hold her breath and inhale it at the same time. It was… Repulsive.

It was the smell of rot.

Saya stood up, touching the spots that still ached to check for wounds. By sheer luck, it seemed as though all she had to worry about was some minor bleeding. The skin was broken in a few spots, but the flesh remained mostly intact. With a bit of effort, the Dunmer managed to force a healing spell that began to mend her wounds. But as her flesh reknit, she still couldn't bring herself to move - or rather, to look away from the carnage. She watched with morbid interest how these starved spirits clawed at each other's incorporeal forms, ripping out chunks and gorging themselves like animals, eating and drinking and vomiting and starting all over again. The redhead would've probably kept watching if one of the monsters hadn't accidentally caught her gaze, making something that could vaguely be called eye contact.

And in that moment, when she saw those black globes peering back at her with absolutely nothing behind them, the Dragonborn immediately snapped out of her trance and ran, not looking back for a single moment.


As tempting as it is to just fall onto the floor right now, I don't think I can do that. I think that my shitty night of sleep is finally catching up to me. I took my bed roll with me at least, so if I just find a nice closed-off room, I think I might be able to get some shut-eye.

I'm not gonna begin to even attempt to understand what in Molag's moldy morning wood happened back there. What I do know is that I'm still looking over my shoulder all the damn time. My hand is actually cramping up a bit from constantly holding the dagger, but I don't think I should let go of it. It feels safer when I'm holding it.

Alright, I think I can see the portcullis that I need to get past. There's something like a guard's chamber off to the side here, has a big crank in the wall - which, I bet, is how you open the way forward. I'll just make myself a little nest here, and hopefully I don't wake up with a cold.

The ring is oddly warm to the touch. I wonder what that's about.