Vilkas lay on the bed of his room at Fort Sunguard. He was fully clothed and there was a huge open wound in his neck. Farkas stood over his body, along with the remaining thralls and werewolves. Stefan and his family had murdered so many that there was barely any of them left. Currently, there were less than a dozen of them remaining. The thralls and werewolves surrounded Farkas. The closest placed their hand on his shoulder to comfort him.
"I avenge you brother," said Farkas as he looked over his body.
The others looked over to him. They stood in silence for a moment.
"Did you see where they went?" asked one of the thralls.
"I did not," replied the other. "I saw them run to the road and head towards Whiterun."
"Then Whiterun is where we shall go," said another.
"What about Castle Volkihar?" asked another. "He may have headed to Whiterun as a trick."
Farkas was silent as they debated their next move.
"No," he said. "They wouldn't have gone to Castle Volkihar."
"Why not?" asked another.
"He knows that's the first place we would look," replied Farkas. "No. I think he's gone to Whiterun."
"Should we send someone to Castle Volkihar just in case?" asked one of the thralls.
"You should," said Farkas. "I know him well, he likes to keep his enemies guessing."
The thralls nodded.
"You three," said Farkas pointing the three closest to him. "You will head to Castle Volkihar. Capture Lucinda and kill anyone who resists, if she is there."
"If she's not?" asked the leader.
"Kill them anyway," replied Farkas. "Less for us to deal with."
"I will take the rest of us and head to Whiterun," said Farkas. "It's heavily defended, we're going to need all the bodies we can get."
They nodded in agreement.
"But first," said Farkas. "I need to bury my brother."
He turned to leave the room.
"What about Falkreath?" asked a voice from the corner of the room.
Farkas turned to look at the woman. She was rather small. It was also hard to see her face because she was wearing black plated armour and a hood covered her face.
"What about it?" asked Farkas.
"Aren't you going to send anyone there?" she asked.
"Why would I?" asked Farkas. "It's an abandoned mansion with no protection or strategic value."
"Exactly," she said "It's the last place you would look, and thus the first place he would go."
Farkas thought for a moment. There was validity in what she was saying.
"That's a good point," he said. "I never thought of it this way."
"I would like to lead the charge," she continued. "If he's going to be there with his daughter, I will need the very best fighters."
"As you wish," said Farkas. "I admire your enthusiasm."
He pointed to several of the thralls standing at the foot of the bed.
"You are to join our guest in the assault of Falkreath," he commanded.
They nodded and joined the hooded figure.
"We will leave within the hour," said Farkas. "After I have buried my brother."
"Excellent," said the hooded figure. She, Lilith, turned away and smiled to herself. Small fangs could be seen protruding from her mouth as she smiled.
Farkas dug a grave at the grounds of the fort. A large pile of dirt was next to him. He worked tirelessly digging a deep grave with a shovel. His sword stuck out of the ground a few feet away. He dug furiously, throwing the dirt into the pile he made. His brother's body, was laying a few feet away wrapped in a blanket. A thrall joined him. He watched for a moment before picking up a second shovel and began to help with the digging.
Once it was deep enough Farkas slammed his shovel into the ground. He then picked up his brothers body and carefully laid it into the grave her had dug. He then stood back and silent for a moment.
"I didn't know your brother well," said the thrall. "But he was a good man."
Farkas looked up at him.
"My brother was an idiot," he replied. "But even so, he didn't deserve to die like this."
They were silent for a moment.
"Sovengarde," began the thrall. "We allow this soul to enter your gates. His time on Nirn has ended and we commit his body to the soil from whence it came. We will meet again brother, in Sovengarde."
They stood in silence once more. They then picked up their shovels and began covering his body with the dug up dirt. It was hard work but as the last of the dirt was piled on the top, they stood back to admire their handiwork. A small mound stuck out from the ground where Vilkas was buried. Farkas then walked to the tower and picked up a particularly large stone. He carried it back to the grave. He sat cross legged on the ground and pulled out a dagger from his pouch. He began carving something on it.
The dagger scratched and scraped on the stone. Several minutes past and his work was complete. Farkas stood up and carried the stone to the grave of his brother. He placed it where his head lay and forced it into the soil. He carefully moved dirt around the edges to keep it stable. He then stood up and they together read the epitaph.
'Vilkas, brother of Farkas. A warrior who died in battle. In Sovengarde we will meet again.'
They gestured their heads in agreement of the words Farkas spoke.
"Let's go avenge my brother," said Farkas.
He threw down the shovel and picked up his huge steel sword. He threw it over his back and it slid into the straps to hold it into place. Farkas nodded at his companion and made his way towards the castle buildings. His accomplice stood over the grave of Vilkas for a moment before he followed Farkas into the castle.