The sun has not yet risen when we leave the inn. The stars are peeking through the small gaps in the clouds that coat the sky, threatening the possibility of rain. Sheathing my sword, I pull out my warhammer from my bag and tuck it into the band that holds my bow on my back. The night-time insects are still chirping, and gods are they loud! I'm twice as alert as usual because of them – they're drowning out most of the other natural noises, and so I might not notice an enemy until they are right on top of me.
Passing the fort at the crossroads – I have no idea why but I feel like I must avoid that place at all costs – I meet a pair of bedraggled farmers wandering morosely towards Whiterun. I'm pondering whether to offer my help when they give me such a glare I decide not to. Hopefully it was merely because they hold the same sympathies as the beggar and the drunk I saw in Windhelm the first time I visited the city, and not because some action of mine has directly caused their problems. Oh well.
The sun has finally risen now, casting its golden glow across the tundra and dissolving the clouds above to reveal a clear, pure blue sky. The insects' racket dies down, and a nearby trio of Imperial soldiers sigh with relief – I obviously was not the only one worrying about drowned-out footsteps!
Following a curve in the road, I can see, off in the distance ahead and some way away from the road, a great tall pillar with a sort of dragons-head carving on top, like those that decorate the ruins of Bleak Falls Barrow. I wonder what it is there for?
Suddenly, out of nowhere, an Orc charges us, screaming a battle-cry as she raises her great warhammer above her helmeted head. I haul mine off my back and Shout, bathing the figure in flame and causing her to at least pause in her charge, giving me time to settle my grip before her first attack.
Serana casts her icicles at the Orc, adding to the freezing effects of the charm I have on my warhammer. With every hit, the woman staggers, and I barely give her time to lift her weapon, and soon we've defeated her and she lies dead at our feet.
Steadily the road turns northwards, heading for Rorikstead, but about an hour's run away we're stopped by an ambitious Khajiiti thief. Poor fool doesn't last long – like Serana, I've had enough of these money-hungry idiots. Don't they see that they'd make more if only they would bother to get a job of some sort? Adventuring has made me a pretty penny, and although it's dangerous, you can get by if you know how to fight. Rummaging through the now-dead cat's pockets, I prove my point by pulling out a small flawed gem and about five coins – I found better loot in the entry hall of Ustengrav!
The little farming town of Rorikstead is as quiet as usual, and I even manage to get through the 'ambush crossroad' without bother. The bandit camp is still empty, and the only living being we pass after that place is a mercenary off to 'investigate some trouble nearby'; not counting the numerous butterflies, of course.
A little further up the road we come across the ruined merchant cart. Have they still not cleaned this up? I thought someone would have, by now. Across the bridge, however, we discover another upset cart. This time, the dead horse is accompanied by a dead Cyrodiil and a vampire. Rummaging through the bloodsucker's pockets, I find a note; the contents are quite interesting indeed.
I have new orders for you. Prepare an ambush just south of the Dragon Bridge. Take the Moth Priest to Forebears' Holdout for safe keeping until I can break his will. Malkus.
As I tuck the note into my bag along with the other written documents I've found recently, I notice a trail of blood splashes leading back across the bridge. They are still relatively fresh, so this ambush couldn't have happened more than a day ago. I follow the trail past the merchant cart, Serana behind me, and up a short hill, where the trail disappears into a cave. Swapping my warhammer for my bow, I take a deep breath, and sneak inside.
Down a short passage, I pause as we enter the large main chamber of the cavern. Across a rushing stream lies the ruins of what must have been a small fort or something.
Down some stone steps, the remains of a path leads to a bridge across the stream, before which patrol a pair of the great black dogs of the vampires. Carefully timing my shots, I manage to slay one without the other seeing, then shoot the other dead when it discovers its fallen brethren. I cross the bridge unseen by a patrolling thrall on the wall above, and aim a shot when I have a clear view of the unfortunate man. Unluckily I barely injure the fellow, but he runs a little way down the wall, forgets why and then returns to his previous spot. Poor creature – my next shot puts him out of his misery, and he falls forward, landing in front of Serana with a muffled thump. After adding his arrows to my own, I round the corner and sneak through the archway, stopping when I see, beyond the great fire in the middle of a rubble-filled courtyard, another enthralled bandit standing watch atop a balcony halfway up some stairs opposite where I stand.
My first arrow misses, and I barely get a chance for another shot as Serana rushes ahead of me to meet the man at the foot of the stairs, the nearest point he'd reached when investigating the source of the arrow. Serana's battle makes a little racket, and once the fellow is dead I hesitate for a minute or so, listening out for anything. We seem to have gone unnoticed, so I carefully climb the stairs, stopping just before I reach the top to listen in on the conversation being had nearby.
"The more you fight, the more you will suffer, mortal." A male voice says – that must belong to this Malkus, the leader of this little gang.
"I will resist you monster! I must!" Another man says. I can barely hear them above a roaring noise, the source of which I cannot see from here. This other fellow has to be the Moth Priest we need.
"How much longer can you keep this up, Moth Priest?" Asks Malkus contemptuously. "Your mind was strong, but you're exhausted from the struggle."
"Must… resist…" The Priest is failing.
"Yes; I can feel your defences crumbling. You want it to end. You want to give in to me. Now, acknowledge me as your master!" The vampire is confident now.
"Yes. Master." The Moth Priest drones. That can only mean he's been hypnotised and is now under the same sort of curse the thralls were. Hopefully this doesn't mean the fellow's death at my hands, though.
I nock an arrow, take a breath, and suddenly rise from my hiding spot, loosing my arrow and sending it straight into Malkus' neck. Another vampire, who hadn't made a sound during the leader's and the Moth Priest's 'conversation', draws her war-axe, but another arrow kills her and she slides to a halt at the foot of a great blue barrier preventing the priest's escape.
On Malkus' corpse, I find a glowing blue stone that must be the key to opening the barrier, the source of the roaring noise. Looking around, I spot a smaller balcony, the back of which is lined with luxurious, satin-lined coffins. I climb the stairs and slot the stone into a receptacle standing facing the barrier, which dissolves, freeing its captive.
"I serve my master's will." The Moth Priest says in a monotone. "But my master is dead, and his enemies will pay!" He draws his sword, which matches the one I received from the Blades, and rushes at me. Drawing my own Dwarven smith-work, I merely block his attacks, unwilling to hurt the fellow; Serana, however, casts her ice spell over and over until the priest suddenly lowers his blade and cowers in front of me.
"Wait, stop! I yield!" He cries. Serana stops, and the priest straightens. "That… that wasn't me you were fighting! I could see through my eyes, but I could not control my actions. Thank you for breaking that foul vampire's hold over me." The tonsured man steps towards me, dusting off his now damp robes.
"I owe you a debt for the timely rescue." He says.
"Are you alright?" I ask him. I can only imagine what he must have experienced while enthralled.
"I'm quite alright, thanks to you." He says, in his strong Cyrodiilic accent. "Dexion Evicus is my name. I'm a Moth Priest of the White-Gold Tower. These vampires claimed they had some purpose in store for me, but they wouldn't say what. Probably hoping to ransom me, the fools."
"I know why they needed you, because we need you for the same purpose." I inform him with a small frown.
"You do? Alright then, enough mysteries."
"We're called the Dawnguard, and we need you to read an Elder Scroll."
"You have an Elder Scroll? Remarkable! If my knowledge of history serves me, I recall that the Dawnguard was an ancient order of vampire hunters. I will be happy to assist you with your Elder Scroll. Just tell me where I need to go."
He's fairly confident about travelling alone, considering what just happened to him. "You can find us at Fort Dawnguard, near Stendarr's Beacon." I inform him, hoping he gets there ok.
"Very well. I'll hurry on my way there before more of those vampires turn up." Dexion wanders away towards the exit while I instead turn towards a chest in an alcove behind him to loot it.
It doesn't hold much, but I take what is there and pass Dexion on the way out – the least I can do is make sure the road ahead of him is most likely to be clear of any beasts and marauders. Leaving the cave, I find the road and follow it back south.
The only person I meet on the way to Rorikstead is a lone Argonian, in much the same state as the Skooma-dealer I met in the Rift, so I avoid eye contact and jog on. Through a still-quiet Rorikstead; I don't think Skyrim has ever been so silent! The only noise I can hear is the wind through the grass and my own footsteps, which are almost in sync with Serana's.
A couple more miles south, we pass an orange robe-clad Khajiit that I've seen hanging around various spots of wilderness in Skyrim. I wonder who that cat is and what he is doing roaming the country alone as he is. He doesn't seem to be affiliated with any of the caravans I've seen. Strange.
We also pass the wandering bard, plucking quietly on his lute as he wanders slowly down the road past the connection to the pass to the Reach. This guy is everywhere!
I'm getting rather tired by the time we return to Whiterun – while nothing much has really happened today, it has still been an exhausting one, so I turn up the road to the city. The market is quiet, the stall owners having already retired for the night, but Belethor's is still open, so I duck inside.
The man is his usual self, promising he'd sell his sister in a second if he had one, and taking my goods quite happily in exchange for a decent pile of gold.
In the Mare, a robed man who's been hanging around the bar for the past couple of times I've visited asks me if I'm interested in a 'friendly competition' to win a staff. I give him a friendly shake of the head – maybe next time, if I'm free – and chuck Hulda the requisite ten coins for the room.