Chapter Thirty

Fort Dawnguard was a mess of activity, swirling voices and rushing soldiers making their way through the stone walls and mulling about the grounds. Isran pressed his palm to his brow, trying to block out the noise for just a moment to focus as he read the report that had arrived just earlier that day. Gritting his teeth a bit, the redguard placed the parchment back down on the smooth wood desk and looked up at the map that he had mounted on the wall some days ago. It was littered with red marks, X's and black circles, different symbols to identify where vampire lairs had been found, cleared, and rumored of. Despite the Dawnguard's best attempts, there were more black circles than anything else, clans and lairs rumored to be operating still safely out of the reach of the Dawnguard. Without enough facts, Isran wasn't willing to risk his soldiers on a wild goose chase, not when they had already lost a comrade.

The tired man rubbed his eyes, having spent the entire day working, and turned his attention once more to a report, hoping it could narrow down the potential location of the newest vampire rumors. Impress was hard to come by from the redguard, but the news he held in his hand certainly earned it. "Two women took out an entire clan of vampires?" He muttered, placing the paper down on top of a pile of similar reports. "Maybe we should recruit them eh?" He asked, looking over his shoulder to where his long time friend stood in the doorway, a plate of food in hand.

Celann gave a half smirk, and the breton strode into the bedroom that doubled as Isran's office with a scroll in his other hand, placing the meal of venison and bread upon the desk. "I think that'd be great, if it weren't for who they were," he said, handing the redguard the scroll.

Brow furrowing, Isran unraveled it, and skimmed over the details before frowning with frustrated disbelief. "The housecarls," he groused.

"Aye, the very same ones that came to our door asking of Yosa'Min some time ago."

"What are the odds that they were eliminating the vampires that were at Dimhallow Crypt?" Isran inquired as he took a bite of the bread, ignoring the fact that it was hardened and stale. He'd been so lost in his work he'd forgotten to eat, and the consideration of his companion was enough to keep him from complaining, not as if he would either way.

"Despite the proximity," Celann said with a dull tone, "low. Our scouts say that the clan in that area was only operating in Morthal and the immediate surrounding lands like the swamp. They didn't have enough influence for the mountainous region."

"So then the Volkihar..." Isran replied as he pulled a few sheets of paper out of the pile and shifted them around on the desktop. There had always been rumors about the ancient clan of vampires that dwelled to the north, but in the recent few months those rumors had steadily grown into a river of news and stories. Kidnappings, reports of farmers vanishing for weeks before returning with hazed memories and strange markings, it was all the usual vampiric blabber really. What made the Volkihar unique however, was that there was always the same eyes their victims remembered; blazing orange like a dying sunset. Isran was knowledgable enough in the monster he hunted to easily recognize such reports as a royal line of vampires, perhaps even one of the original ones. It wouldn't have been that far of a stretch for Isran to believe they were responsible if the local populace of bloodsuckers wasn't.

In all his time as a vampire hunter, and when he had been a Vigilant of Stendarr, Isran had been keen on learning what he could of the monsters in the world. Over time he had come to realize that vampires were in many ways like wolves, gathering together with defined leadership, stalking their prey relentlessly and cunningly. They were also very territorial, fighting over hunting grounds in the middle of the night like the beasts they were, leaving behind corpses and ruined families, mortals getting caught up between their bickering. If one clan possessed the power to, they would spread as far as possible and claim what they could until a challenger clan would try to take it form them. If the Morthal clan hadn't been strong enough to expand even out of their own swamp, than most assuredly a stronger clan would sweep in and claim was was available. Unfortunately to his knowledge, there was only one clan in that area that could have done it, and they were terrifying powerful, a name whispered in shadows with fear.

Celann circled around the desk, and picked up a series of reports from the Dawnguard scouts currently active in the field. "So, the Volkihar might have been at Dimhallow Crypt where Yosa'Min vanished and Durak died?" He said as he skimmed the hastily written letters. "Do you think..."

Sighing, Isran nodded his head. "I have no doubt. There were signs of necromancy, which vampires practice, as well as bite and claw marks on his corpse. Taking into account the string of vampire sightings since that night... They turned her." Isran curiously sniffed the meat upon the plate before he began to eat it, pleased it was a bit tastier than the bread had been.

Hissing through his teeth at the situation, the breton looked at the map with dismay. "There's so many of them Isran... They're springing up from the ground like weeds, infecting the world and wringing life from all of Tamriel."

"I think sucking is a more appropriate word."

Shooting his friend a smirk, the breton shook his head. "How are you holding up?" He turned towards the senior Dawnguard who was still chewing his food, but the look Celann offered was not one of a subordinate to a superior, but one of utter friendship.

Taking his time with the meal, as if he was trying to gather his thoughts man than anything else, Isran focused his attention on the plate. When it was gone, and he could stall no longer, blue eyes settled upon Celann and he gave a soft shrug. "With what?"

"Everything. Durak and you went back almost as far as we do."

Sighing, the redguard ran a hand over his bald head and shrugged. "I'm handling it. Allowing my grief to control me will only bring trouble."

"You don't have to be so stoic all the time."

Pale blue orbs looked at Celann, Isran's lips drawing into a thin line, before he pushed off the table and crossed his arms. "There's no other option. These monsters will soon overrun Skyrim if we don't put a stop to it. To do that, we must be vigilant, level-headed, and swift. If I stop for a second to remind myself of those I have lost and allow that sorrow to fill me, then I will have failed the Dawnguard and those we protect."

Waving a hand, Celann shook his head. "You're not as unfeeling as those monsters Isran. You can't deny that," he lowered his gaze and then let out a heavy sigh. "I'm not saying break down into tears or anything, I know you would never do that. I'm just saying you don't have to shoulder the burden all on your own." Dark eyes raised back up and settled on Isran. "I helped reestablish the Dawnguard, I was the very first one who came when you called, I can help you lead it if you need me to. I know that we didn't always get along, and that we went our separate ways before because of our differing views but..." Celann sighed, ruffled his hair a bit, and then looked at Isran with sincerity. "We're a band of brothers and sisters now, we're all feeling his loss and we all want justice, so don't pretend like we need you to soldier on for us. We're handling it, but each in their own way. Just make sure the way you're dealing with it is a healthy way, and not something that will actually cause problems later on."

Isran smirked ever so faintly. "You always were the more emotional one," he teased.

"Oi, if it keeps you from having a breakdown and snapping one day, I'll do it."

"Thank you Celann. I'll make sure I'm not being foolishly stoic."

"Good!" The breton brightened. "Now, back to business. What-"

"Isran!" Came a shout from the main hall, the voice echoing through the fort and into the room. "Isran!" It was frantic, labored with short breaths and borderline an utter shriek.

The two men were swiftly on their way out of the room when up stumbled a scout, pale faced and out of breath. "What is it Morat?"

"The Solitude patrol, they were attacked!"

Isran stiffened, and then his face became a harsh scowl. "Vampires?"

"No!" He shook his head, the imperial straightening up and then finally collected himself. "Vex and Mjoll the Lioness."

Celann's jaw dropped. "Where?"

"The Winking Skeever, the inn. They say they had tailed the thief there, and were attacked."

"More like they were getting drunk and picked a fight," muttered Celann softly, Isran catching the hushed words.

"Did they capture her?" Morat shook his head. "Of course not..." grumbled the redguard darkly, thoughts clouding. "Wait a moment... Syldus' report said Mjoll the Lioness doesn't get along with Vex. Why are they working together?"

"She must have been the one to tell Mjoll and the housecarls what happened in the first place," offered Celann, "Syldus was right."

"Which means they've been in league this whole time... Or Yosa'Min has enough influence to gather foes to find her."

The breton shook his head with thought. "Was there anything else Morat?"

The scout nodded, and held out a piece of paper that Isran swiftly took. "The innkeeper was found in the cellar midday. It appears he was tortured by vampires, considering the wounds they found on him and the mental state he was left in," Morat continued as Isran read the local Solitude news.

"Mental state?" Inquired Celann.

"Blabbering on about two women with glowing eyes, moaning and crying in pain, sudden shrieks of terror, and he continually touched his neck. The patrol had to force his hands away to see the bite marks. They also claim that the innkeeper vanished the same time they started to fight."

Scowling deeper, Isran formed a fist with one hand. "The vampires were there, waiting. Whatever they wanted from him they got and it was thanks to the distraction Vex and Mjoll created. They're not just looking for her, they're working with her."

"Do you think they've been enthralled?" Inquired Celann, worry etched into his face.

"It's possible if they've encountered her... But they could just be aiding her out of loyalty. They were willing to come to us knowing we might harm them after all... These women don't seem easily dissuaded."

Stroking his bearded chin, Celann dismissed Morat with a wave of his other hand and turned to Isran. "What do you want to do? We've got reports of a moth priest with vampires after him, vampires dens that are growing in size, a whole clan to deal with, Syldus in the Thieves Guild and now this."

"I need to meet with the boy," he decided after a long moment of thought. "Hold down the fort until I return." Celann dutifully nodded his head as Isran gathered a few things from his office and began down the stairs to the first floor.

Riften was a frosted forest as Isran strode through it, frozen leaves crunching underfoot with each step. There wasn't another soul around, not even that of an animal, giving the redguard man an eerie sensation of safety and wrongness all at the same time, making him cast his gaze about constantly to check and assure he hadn't been followed. To say that the man was paranoid would be the epitome of an understatement. Eventually his walk ended in a clearing where the ground sloped downwards all around like a bowl, far north of the city and anyone who might stumble across him. The man gazed at the spindly forms of the trees that encircled him, casting shadows about in the midnight hour as stars twinkled above. Despite that fact that he knew he was alone, he could not shake the feeling of being watched, and pressed his back into the nearest rock formation he could see, blue eyes peering into the darkness warily.

Impatiently tapping his foot, Isran awaited the arrival of his companion with one hand on his sword the entire time, half expecting a vampire to leap out at him the moment he blinked. A whole ten minutes passed before the shadow appeared over the slope, watching him for a long moment before swiftly leaving the protection of the trees to meet with him. Isran arched a brow as Syldus came over to him dressed in a suit of brown leather armor adorned with countless pockets, belts and buckles, a hood masking the majority of his face but the Dawnguard leader could easily spot the plethora of freckles that adorned the bosmer's face as it caught just a faint bit of moonlight.

"I take it you got in?" Remarked the redguard, relaxing some as Syldus drew near.

"Of course," said Syldus, nodding his head. "They think I'm leaving on my first job, a robbery up in Windhelm."

"Are you going to do it?"

"That depends," smoothly replied the bosmer, "how well do you want me to keep my cover?"

Grimacing, Isran shrugged. "Do whatever it takes..." Syldus gave a dutiful nod. "So what have you found out?"

"Since they let me in, I haven't been able to get messages out without risking being caught. Karliah, the Third, doesn't seem to trust me and has been keeping a close eye on me. I've discovered however, that a man named Brynjolf is the Second. The both of them are leading the Guild at the moment because their Guildmaster is out on business... and that person is Vex." Isran stiffened, eyes narrowed deeply with thought. "Aye, Vex."

"But if she's the one in charge, and now she's out trying to find Yosa'Min... the Guild is vulnerable." It was almost spoken in a whisper.

"She's trying to find Yosa'Min?" Syldus scowled. "That makes sense. We could take them Isran, if you'd like. They're fortified in there, and the sewers are a maze of tunnels littered with traps, but I could lead you to them, and we could exterminate this plague."

Looking at the young boy, Isran examined him carefully. "We're not here to do the job of the city guard. We're just going to make Vex and Yosa'Min pay for what they did to us."

"They're both in the Guild though Isran, and we could make them hurt if we destroy what they value most!" Syldus argued, pausing for a moment as he recalled something. "Which... For Yosa'Min isn't the Guild." Isran raised an eyebrow expectantly. "I'm not entirely certain yet, but I believe the woman Mjoll is, and she's searching for her as well."

"I'm aware of her last location," Isran replied, offering the report to Syldus who quickly read over it. The anger that dawned his face, usually kept masked behind his eyes was in full view as he looked up at the taller man. "I fear she and Vex are working for or with Yosa'Min now... who is most certainly a vampire."

"Were we ever really doubting that?"

"I suppose not," simply said the redguard, "but I like to keep an open mind until I know all the facts." Isran squinted his eyes. "You're letting your anger blind you Syldus."

The bosmer cracked a grin, looking at his leader with respect despite his obvious disagreement with the man. "Isran, I spent years unable to feel anything for myself, so please forgive me if I get caught up in them now."

"This isn't the same as being a thrall Syldus," rebuked the redguard, the edge in his voice cutting into the bosmer. "You're free now remember?"

Sucking his teeth ever so slightly, the bosmer shook his head. "No, it certainly isn't. As a thrall I had no say in anything I did, as a thrall I was a pawn and a toy of monsters. Do you know the things they made me do Isran?"

"You told me once you were often used as bait."

"Bait," he agreed, "and not just for mortals. They would slit my wrist and send me into a rival clan's den to stir them out, or make me scream and lure helpful mortals to their deaths. I had more choice when I was young, when it was just the Lady and I was more scared than anything else. But then they get in your head, make it all so blurry and hard to understand, and before you know it a decade has gone by and you've done nothing but serve monsters." Brown eyes fixed themselves upon the redguard who's expression was a cold stone wall. "It's why I'm here now, I'm sure you've figured this already."

"Atonement?"

"Partially."

"The rest?" Inquired the Dawnguard leader, waving his hand slightly. "Revenge for what those abominations made you do and did to you? For the people you had a hand in the demise of?" The answer was silence. "Syldus," sighed Isran, shaking his head, "We've been over this before."

Bristling, the bosmer gave a sharp shake of his head. "Isran, I can't just forgive myself like that."

"Swords kill, correct?"

The young elf blinked, confused by the question. "Yes..."

"But do they choose to kill?"

"Well no, but-"

"So can they be blamed for killing?"

Syldus grew silent, brown eyes baring down upon the man who had singlehandedly changed his life. Ever since the day he'd met him, walking down the road on the mountainside when he was still a thrall of the vampires, he'd been impressed by how wise the man came across. Isran wasn't just a man of action or battle, though he wasn't short in either of those departments, but also a man of wisdom and knowledge. He never went into battle uncertain of what was to be faced, with it all left to luck and fate, but instead would spend days preparing if not weeks. Syldus had seen the process the redguard would go through before committing the Dawnguard as a whole to a task. Sure, he could make quick decisions, such as when he had assigned Syldus to this infiltration assignment, but even still his current job was nothing more than an observational one. In many ways it made Syldus respect Isran, the fact that he wasn't brash and thought his actions through before he did them, but in others it infuriated him.

All he wanted to do was punish the thieves and be done with it so that he could continue clearing out vampire caves and destroying their abhorrent clans. This was a task that was in the way of him fulfilling his purpose, if not for the fact that he was sworn to do as Isran commanded, to include infiltrating guilds of rats to take them down later. However, if there was one thing Syldus had learned as a thrall, it was that revenge was a very sweet thing. "They killed him Isran," he uttered, "They killed Durak."

"I know."

"You sent me into that pit knowing what I would suggest once I saw an opportunity," he slowly said, looking at Isran with conflict swirling in his eyes. "Why if you're not going to act?"

"You're a very clever boy Syldus."

"So answer me, please."

Blue eyes simply looked at him, and the curly haired bosmer patiently awaited the answer. After what felt like an eternity, he nodded. "We're spread too thin Syldus," began Isran, "we've gotten new recruits but of the Dawnguard I feel are ready for combat against even a singular vampire are low. If I were to spare men for revenge, then we would lose more brothers and sisters just as we did before. The path to revenge will destroy us, this I am certain so long as the vampires still slink in the shadows. Infighting amongst mortals is what they thrive upon, you should know this, they wait for us to tear each other apart and than swoop in for the killing blow. We will wait and be ready for the Thieves Guild because trust me they will not go unpunished, but it must come after we have destroyed this vampiric threat."

Letting out a soft sigh, Syldus dipped his head in submission. "I apologize Isran, you're right. I just... I wish I could make them pay right now."

"I know Syldus, you're still young, you're bound to be a bit impatient." The slight smirk in his voice made the bosmer relax slightly. "Is there anything else you've found out?"

Perking up some, and giving his leader a hearty nod, he began to speak once more, "There are two ways into the Guild, one from a Ratway entrance on the boardwalk and the other from a crypt behind the temple. That one leads directly to the Guild, but it makes a horrendous sound, we would not be able to keep our advantage of surprise."

"So through the tunnels then, which are littered with traps?"

"Aye, Brynjolf informed me that upon becoming Guildmaster, and the Guild's return to power, they've been targeted before by rival guilds. They've improved their security vastly, and now every other step could get you killed if you don't know the way."

"How did you get through then?"

Without a hint of arrogance, Syldus simply said, "I'm smart."

Glancing about the clearing once more, Isran's lips drew into a thin line. "Well boy, we're going to have to figure a way to summon you without raising the suspicions of the Guild." Looking to the rock he had been standing by, he gestured towards it. "When you leave on jobs, write what you've learned or what could help us, and bury it at the base of this stone. I will have scouts pick it up and leave you any orders I might have for you."

"It was pure luck I saw you in town when I was on my way out," agreed Syldus before adding, "That sounds like a good idea Isran, the snow should help mask where it's been buried."

"I'm glad you agree. We best part ways now, I need to get some things in order for a hunting party." Syldus frowned ever so slightly, and Isran placed a hand upon his shoulder, reassuringly smiling. "Don't worry, soon enough you'll be back in it. Now go." Obediently, the bosmer stepped away, and then slipped into the night. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Isran watched him leave, before he turned himself and made his way towards Fort Dawnguard. There were many things on his to-do list, and he was in dire need of getting on with it. It was time the Dawnguard showed Tamriel their strength.

AN: Thanks so very much for reading! I am sincerely sorry for the long delay in an update! Between training, holiday break, traveling and than some hardware issues with good 'ol fashioned writer's block thrown on top, this was a very difficult chapter to get out. In a little around a month however, things should be picking back up as I'll be finishing training so, here's hoping! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'd love to hear what you think in a review! Also Happy New Year!