Leaving the inn and turning south to follow the road, the only sounds I can hear are my footsteps and the singing of the birds in the trees. A refreshing breeze tickles across my face and sends scattered leaves dancing across the road. I wonder as I meet nothing as I turn east at the crossroads near the pass through to Helgen – usually I have been attacked by at least a pack's worth of wolves by now. I'm not complaining, however; I love a peaceful journey. I keep meaning to return to Helgen at some point to pay my respects. Maybe I should talk to someone about getting the rebuilding effort started – I don't want the small town to disappear from the map, considering that Helgen is the place where it all began.
As the road passes near to the river – named as the Treva on my map – I pass a dark skinned Nord. I nod my greetings as I approach.
"I'm on my way to Windhelm to join up with the Stormcloaks." He says. "Ulfric has the right of it."
"Good luck with that!" I say as I continue past. He waves back and continues on his way.
A little further on, I pass the wandering bard I've seen in various spots around Skyrim. I've always wondered what it would be like to be a bard; at least I'd have plenty of material to write an epic! I don't think I would make a good bard though – I was never very good at music.
The only warning that the bear gives me is a roar, before it leaps out of the bushes next to the road to take a swipe at me with its huge claws. I leap back, drawing my sword, and the enraged beast misses me by an inch, at most. As it rears back, preparing to attack again, I close the distance and slice open its chest before stabbing it in the heart through the wound.
After wiping my blade clean on the bear's matted fur, I leave it at the roadside and continue down the road as it twists sharply into the woods. As it curves gently back to the east, I meet an Orc in rags.
"Greetings, sister." He says as I near. "You look weary. I have something to help you relax, if you're interested."
"What are you talking about?" I ask.
"The finest Skooma, the sweetest moon sugar. At a fair price, of course."
"No, thanks." Definitely not; especially after what it did to Uncle Lexus. After three years on the drug, he was unrecognisable. And violent.
"Each has their own way." The Orc turns away, and I continue past him.
As the road meets Lake Honrich, an assassin leaps growling out of a bush, her blades flashing in the morning sun peeking through the canopy. I use my Fire Breath on her, burning her and knocking her back; this gives me time to draw my blade and fight back. I don't bother trying to block her attacks – I have no shield, instead using my left hand to keep a healing spell prepared, and besides, with a long-sword in one hand and a dagger in her other, I could either fight or block, not both. Instead, I go all-in, slashing with my sword when gaps open in her duel-wielded blades; eventually I defeat her, and on her corpse I find the usual collection of items that all the other assassins had.
Gramps would never have approved of all this – he always believed that if anyone wanted you dead, they should use the Morag Tong to get it done. He hated the 'other lot', calling them traitors and defectors. But I suppose the black chitin uniform of the Morag Tong would rather stick out in Skyrim, as opposed to the black and red leather worn by my attackers.
Entering Riften, I head straight to the Dark Elf's stall to sell what little loot I'd collected, then duck back out of the gate and jog around behind the Keep to get to the road on the other side. I wonder why they boarded up the gate on this side? Just after crossing the bridge over the brook, a Khajiit mage surprises me with a fireball. Fighting back, I wonder just what is keeping this cat going? He barely pauses in his casting, only stopping when he lies dead at my feet. Removing his helmet, I find out why – the crazed eyes and the frothy spit dripping from his lips point directly at Rabies. Poor thing – of all the diseases this cat could have caught, it had to be the rarest of them all.
I've barely straightened up when a fellow runs up to me and shoves a bow into my hands.
"Take this and hold onto it. I'll be back for it later. I'll pay you good – don't lose it!" He says, looking around worriedly.
"Umm…"
"No time to talk – snitch or double-cross me and I'll kill you, I mean it!" He hurries back up the road and ducks under the bridge.
I'm still standing there, confused as to what had just happened, when another running man, wearing the kit common to hunters, comes dashing up to me.
"Did you see someone run past just now?" He asks me.
"I presume this Orcish bow belongs to you?" I proffer the bow, and he takes it gratefully.
"Yes! How'd you get this? Never mind – here. It's not much, but it's something. I'm going to track down that thief, and murder him!" He rushes away from me, spots the thief cowering beneath the bridge, and shoots the man with his newly re-acquired bow, killing him in one shot.
I continue the short distance down the road and through the crack in the cliff into the canyon. Following the track, I pass through the finished defences, comprising of a few spiked fences and a gate on the wooden wall, and continue up the path towards the fortress. They've planted a few crops since I was here last too – they must have been working non-stop!
As I enter the great building, the entrances to the rest of the fort are closed off by gates rising out of the thresholds. In the centre of the hall stand Gunmar and Sorine – they must have travelled through the night to get here so quickly.
"All right Isran." Gunmar calls up to the dark figure standing on the balcony above. "You've got us all here. Now what do you want?"
"Hold it right there." Isran shouts back, and pulls on a cord dangling next to him. Far above, a lens set on a pair of metal arms holding it in the centre of the hole in the roof tilts, focussing the sunlight onto the centre of the hall and the pair of stunned travellers.
"What are you doing?" Asks Sorine, squinting through the blinding light in an attempt to glare at Isran.
"Making sure you're not vampires. Can't be too careful." He gruffly explains, before tugging on the cord again and resetting the lens back into its original position. Tying the cord onto the railing before him to hold it in place, he continues. "So, welcome to Fort Dawnguard. I'm sure you've heard a bit of what we're up against. Powerful vampires, unlike anything we've seen before. And they have an Elder Scroll. If anyone is going to stand in their way, it's going to be us."
"This is all well and good, but do we actually know anything about what they're doing? What do we do now?" Sorine puts her fists on her hips, and Gunmar nods in agreement with her question.
"We'll get to that. For now, get acquainted with the space. Sorine, you'll find room to start tinkering on that crossbow design you've been working on. Gunmar, there's an area large enough for you to pen up some trolls; get them armoured up and ready for use. In the meantime," Isran starts glaring at me. "we're going to get to the bottom of why a vampire showed up here looking for you. Let's go have a little chat with it, shall we?"
I have a feeling I know who he's talking about. After the gates return to their slots in the floor, I find and climb the spiral staircase up to the second floor and follow Isran into a small, bloody torture room, inside which stands – of course – Serana.
"So, let's hear it." Isran grumps, folding his arms and watching the vampire like a hawk would a dying rabbit.
Serana, instead, ignores him and takes a step closer to me. "You probably weren't expecting to see me again." She says, a small smile gracing her beautiful face.
"What are you doing here?" I ask her.
"I'd rather not be here either, but I needed to talk to you. It's important, so please just listen before your friend here loses his patience. It's… well, it's about me. And the Elder Scroll that was buried with me."
"What about you?"
"The reason I was down there… and why I had the Elder Scroll. It all comes back to my father. I'm guessing you figured this part out already, but my father's not exactly a good person; even by vampire standards. He wasn't always like that though. There was a… a turn. He stumbled on this obscure prophecy and just kind of lost himself in it."
"What sort of prophecy?" By my own experience, prophecy never leads to anything good for anyone, really.
"It's pointless and vague, like all prophecies. The part he latched onto said that vampires would no longer need to fear the sun. That's what he's after. He wants to control the sun; have vampires control the world. Anyway, my mother and I didn't feel like inviting a war with all of Tamriel, so we tried to stop him. That's why I was sealed away with the Scroll."
"What's all this have to do with the Dawnguard?" No sooner have I finished my question than I realise it was a stupid one.
"I'm sorry; I had heard there were vampire hunters here." Serana responds sarcastically. "I thought they might want to know about a vampire plot to enslave the rest of the world. Was I wrong?"
"No, you're right. We just have to convince the others you're on our side." I say soothingly.
"Well, let's move then. I'm nothing if not persuasive."
I turn to Isran.
"Well, you've heard what it has to say." He says. "Now tell me, is there any reason I shouldn't kill this bloodsucking fiend right now?"
"Because we're going to need her help." I reply, hoping he'll catch the emphasis.
"Why, because of that story about the prophecy? About some vampire trying to put the sun out? Do you actually believe any of that?"
"Why else would she risk her life to come here?"
"Who knows? Maybe it has a death wish. Maybe it's just insane; I don't really care. It can stay for now, but if it so much as lays a finger on anyone here, I'll hold you responsible. Got it?" Isran turns to Serana. "You hear me? Don't feel like a guest, because you're not. You're a resource; you're an asset. In the meantime, don't make me regret my sudden outburst of tolerance and generosity, because if you do, your friend here is going to pay for it."
"Thank you for your kindness. I'll remember it the next time I'm feeling hungry." Serana jabs back, then turns back to me. "So, in case you didn't notice the giant thing I have on my back, I have the Elder Scroll with me. Whatever it says, it will have something that can help us stop my father. But of course, neither of us can read it."
"Who can?" I'm guessing the time at the top of the Monahven was just a fluke – or made easier by its link with its past self through the time rip.
"Well, the Moth Priests are the only ones I've heard of who can do it. They spend years preparing before they start reading though. Not that it helps us anyway, because they're all half a continent away in Cyrodiil."
Great. Does that mean we have to go all the way to the Imperial City? I remember the last time I made that journey. It was awful – carefully travelling through the thick forests during the dark summer nights to avoid the Imperial Guards' patrols, having difficulty sleeping in cramped hollows during the heat of the day. But then, the reason for my journey wasn't exactly legal…
"Some Imperial scholar arrived in Skyrim a few days ago." Isran's gruff voice pulls me back to the present. "I was staking out the road when I saw him pass by. Maybe that's your Moth Priest."
"Do you know where he's staying now?" Serana asks.
"No, and I'm not going to waste men looking. We're fighting a war against your kind, and I intend to win it. You want to find him, try talking to anyone who'd meet a traveller – innkeepers and carriage drivers in the big cities, maybe. But you're on your own."
"Any idea how we're going to find a Moth Priest? Skyrim's a pretty big place." Serana says to me, arching a carefully sculpted eyebrow. She obviously took the time to pretty herself up a bit before travelling south.
"Do you have any ideas?" I respond.
"Well, back before I… you know. The College of Winterhold was the first place I'd think to go for any kind of magic or historical thing. The wizards know about all kinds of things that people probably shouldn't know about. Actually, now that I think of it… I'm going to come along with you. I've been really wanting to get out and explore a bit."
Nodding my assent, I lead Serana back downstairs and out into the noon sun. She dons a dark hood, then continues down the track behind me.
We haven't travelled far when we interrupt a pair of scouting vampires sneaking up towards the fort. With Serana's help, the pair are soon defeated and lying in the deep grass beside the track. We're attacked by another trio of vampires as we leave the canyon, and they last about as long as the scouts.
Continuing along the road, followed by a groaning zombie raised by Serana during our recent scuffle, we pause in our travels to slay a roaming spider, then, as the zombie crumbles to ash behind us, dash behind the keep and enter Riften, heading straight into the Bee and Barb in the centre of town.
"If you've got the coin you're welcome here." Keerava gives us her usual greeting without looking up from wiping the bar. "Otherwise, hit the road."
"Heard anything about a Moth Priest passing through?" I ask her. She glances at me with her golden eyes, then continues with her task.
"Nah. I don't think so." She replies. I shrug at Serana, then leave the city to talk to the carriage driver – Sigaar, I think I heard the stable hand call him once.
"I can take you to any of the Hold capitals." He boasts.
"Have you seen a Moth Priest?"
"That's one of them Imperial scholars, right? Old man with a grey robe?"
"That's right. You've seen him?" Serana questions him.
"Might be that I have, but I can't say for sure." Sigaar says in a tone that obviously asks for money. "I got enough troubles on my mind just trying to scrape by out here."
"Maybe this will put your mind at ease." I press a purse of gold into his hand that had so conveniently fallen open on his lap.
"Ah, yes, I remember your Moth Priest now." He pockets the gold with an avaricious grin. "He wanted me to take him out to Dragon Bridge, but I told him that ain't one of my stops."
Thanking the driver, I head off down the road northwards. I could've taken his carriage to Solitude then travelled to Dragon Bridge from there, but I've had bad experiences with carriages in the past, so I daren't risk it.
Passing through a very quiet Fort Greenwall, and an almost-as-quiet Shor's Stone, we don't meet anyone until we're traveling through the pine forests that line the western end of Eastmarch. Just as we cross a bridge, a thief leaps out of the shadows of the trees and tries to rob us, but Serana is having none of it and kills him before he can even utter a word. Wow – she must have had a few encounters of her own on the journey to the fort.
Passing a pair of Vigilants, who watch us pass suspiciously, and a travelling mercenary, we're nearing the area where the road climbs the cliffs near Valtheim when night falls, revealing a clear starry sky, decorated to the north with the dancing lights of the Aurora Tamrealis. Absolutely beautiful.
Valtheim is still silent, apart of course from the roar of the waterfall nearby, and when we reach Whiterun I lead Serana inside and up the road to the Bannered Mare, where I rent the room.
"I hope you don't mind?" I ask, and Serana merely shakes her head and settles into a chair on the balcony, watching the minstrel below. I know that daylight isn't exactly healthy for a vampire, but my night vision still isn't as good as it should be, what with only having one eye and all. Oh well, I hope vampires don't suffer from lack of sleep the same way us mortals do…