Catching Up

Desmond reloaded his crossbow, firing as quickly as he could. Isran, surrounded by some spell of sunlight, cut down the vampires as they tore up the path towards the fort. The few members of the Dawnguard who were around lent their strength and steel to the cause.

"Look at this," Isran scoffed, planting the blade of his axe in a vampire's skull. "I should have known it was only a matter of time until they found us... it's the price we pay for openly recruiting."

"Everyone ok?" Desmond asked, hanging up his crossbow. "Glad I got back when I did."

"We'll have to step up our defenses," Isran mused. "I don't suppose you have good news for me."

Desmond scowled, following Isran and Celann to the steps of the fort. "I have news, but I wouldn't call it good."

Isran waved a hand in the air, annoyed. "Of course. Why did I suppose differently. Fine, tell me what you know."

They stopped on the steps beneath the torches that lit the fort. "The vampires were looking for a woman trapped in Dimhollow," Desmond said, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"A woman? Trapped in there?" Isran looked genuinely surprised. "That doesn't make any sense. Who is she?"

"She's the daughter of a powerful vampire lord."

"Where is she now?"

Desmond cringed.

"...You delivered her to them?"

"Hey! What else was I supposed to do?" Desmond snapped. "Tolan went in without me, so it was me against an entire fort of vampires!"

"Tolan didn't make it?" Isran sighed knowingly. "I expected as much."

"So now the vampires have an Elder Scroll," Desmond added quickly.

"They what?" Isran demanded. "You didn't stop them? You didn't secure the Scroll?"

"HEY," Desmond repeated, holding up his injured hand to show the blackened scar that stretched over the center of his palm. "I wasn't winning any fights with this! There was a whole castle's worth of them and only one of me, what else was I supposed to do?"

Isran crossed his arms, glowering fiercely. "So they have everything they wanted, and we're left with nothing. By the Divines, this couldn't get much worse... this is more than you and I can handle."

"What about...?" Desmond looked to the doors of the fort, wondering how many people had joined in the time he'd been gone. Had anyone joined up? "...Ok, so what do we do? Elder Scrolls are serious, we have to do something."

"Well, of course we do. I'm old, not stupid," Isran said. "We're just going to need some help. If they're bold enough to attack us here, then this may be bigger than I thought. I have good men in here, but..."

They fell silent, pensive. "Who do we go to?" Desmond asked. "Do we keep recruiting?"

"There are people I've met and worked with over the years," Isran told him. "We need their skills, their talents if we're going to survive this. If you can find them, we might have a chance."

"Leave it to me. Where do I look?"

Isran cracked a small smile. "Right to the point, aren't you? I like that. Not like those fools in the Order."

Desmond pushed open the door to the fort, heading inside. It was just as dusty and dismal as he remembered it. A few more people were milling about, but certainly nowhere near enough to take on that castle full to bursting with vampires.

"We should keep it small," Isran said, leading him towards a table set with a collection of mismatched plates and goblets. Someone was boiling stew in a pot over the fire. "I think we'll want Sorine Jurard. Breton girl, whip-smart and good with tinkering. Fascination with the Dwemer, weapons in particular."

"Sounds good. Where is she?" Desmond asked, sitting down at the table across from Isran.

"Last I knew, she was out in the Reach, convinced she was about to find the biggest Dwarven ruins yet."

"And she'll help us?"

Isran hesitated. "Might need a little convincing."

Desmond rolled his eyes. "Fine. Who else?"

"You'll also want to find Gunmar. Big brute of a Nord, hates vampires almost as much as I do."

Desmond grinned widely, accepting a bowl of stew from the woman who was cooking. Other men and women trickled in, picking up various scraps of food for their own dinners. "Gunmar sounds like my kinda guy."

"Got it into his head years back that his experience with animals would help. Trolls in particular, from what I hear."

Desmond's smile dimmed. "...Oh."

"Last I knew, he was out scouring Skyrim for more beasts to tame. Heard he was somewhere in the south, near Falkreath."

"Great."

"Stay the night here and rest up before you head out," Isran said. "You'll be safer here than anywhere out there. Bring the two of them back, and we can get started coming up with a plan."

Desmond nodded, looking around the table. Definitely far fewer people than he'd hoped. Perhaps the Dawnguard was doomed to fail this battle. They were a ragtag bunch, maybe not weak by any visible means... at least, not all of them. He fidgeted with nervous energy, silence around other people tended to make him anxious.

"Why did you join the Dawnguard?" he asked the Orc he had seen when he first arrived at the fort.

"I lost two wives to vampires," said the Orc. "I will avenge them. It's good to know that I will not do it alone—I am glad this Dawnguard exists."

Desmond nodded appreciatively. "I lost someone too, I want those vampires dead. Why'd you join up?" he asked the brunette Nord who had made the stew.

"Something bad happens, word spreads," she said, sitting down with her own bowl. "More bad things happen, people worry. The more they worry, the more they talk about it. I've been hearing rumours for a bit now... I was glad to find out not only the bad rumours were true."

Desmond grinned. "Yeah. At least now we can pull together and do something about it."

"I've heard the rumours around Skyrim, too," Agmaer said, from further down the table. He wore armor, a clear change from his farming garb. "I know something's going on, and I've seen the vampires."

"Is that why you came to join us?" the brunette asked.

"Yeah. I felt I had two choices: I could either live in fear of the night, or I could do something to protect my people."

Desmond beamed at him. "Glad you showed up."

"You're all green," Isran said judgmentally. "You haven't been fighting vampires for long, you don't know what you're doing yet."

"Any advice for all us new hunters, then?" Desmond asked.

Isran sat back, crossing his arms on the table. "There's only one thing worth remembering. When it comes to vampires, if you're sloppy, or careless, you're dead. And good people will die because of you."

The room fell silent, the mood dampened.

"I've lasted this long because I don't take any chances," Isran said. "I cover my tracks and I keep my eyes open. If you're smart, you'll do the same."

Helgen was deserted. The rubble had not been touched, wood and stone scorched and littering the ground. Desmond kicked a stone along the path leading through the town, looking up to the tower that still somehow stood. Nearly a year since he'd set foot here and gone running out again, chased by a dragon. The dragon. Alduin.

At least the dragons weren't following him around anymore.

He paused for a moment, staring up at the sky. Perhaps he ought to swing up by Heljarachen again, it seemed like Dawnstar was always getting hit by dragons. Crazy old man probably didn't even have anything protecting the house. Then again, Heljarchen was a bit closer to Whiterun than it was to Dawnstar. Maybe it would be safe, out there in the middle of nowhere...

Desmond kicked his stone down the path, following the road out of Helgen in his search for the troll-tamer.

Sky Haven Temple was just as dim and dusty as he remembered it. Were Delphine and Esbern still here? This was a mistake, it felt like a mistake. He should have just gone straight from Falkreath to Markarth and gotten Sorine, there was no reason for him to be mucking about with old contacts. What was the point?

"Anyone home?" he called, his voice echoing around the empty temple.

There was a scratching sound of wooden chair legs on the stone floor. Delphine and Esbern had both gotten up from the table that sat near to Alduin's Wall.

"Where have you been?" Esbern asked. It wasn't an attack, merely a question.

"Doing stuff," Desmond said simply. "Got some business in the Reach. Thought I'd stop by, see if you survived the dragons."

"Please... Delphine has been very worried about you," Esbern said quietly.

"We heard the news from Whiterun," Delphine said. She looked shocked, even scared, as much as her stoic demeanor would allow. "Martin left the city on the back of a dragon?"

"Yeah, that was... that was a while ago," Desmond said.

"That's a little... showy, for him."

Desmond laughed. "Yeah. Yeah, I was there, it was nuts. He called a dragon and it flew him off to the east."

"Since you're alive, I assume you have good news to report?"

Desmond soured almost immediately. "I'm not your soldier, I don't answer to you."

"But you did come back here."

He glared at her. "Yeah. Martin went to Sovngarde and killed Alduin, so we're all good."

"He's done it?" Esbern asked.

"Yeah."

"Gods above." Delphine gave a little sigh, her shoulders relaxing a little. "That's better news than I had hoped."

"Took him long enough," Desmond added. "It was weeks before he showed back up in Whiterun again, we all thought he'd died."

"Just as the prophecy said," Esbern breathed, clasping his hands together. "I knew he would do it, I believed in you both, and yet... I still didn't think I'd live to see this day."

"Yeah, well. It was kind of a while ago," Desmond said again. "...Last year."

"When you two walked into my inn that day, soaked to the bone and way out of your element, I never could have imagined where it would all lead." Delphine shook her head, chuckling. "Dragons from legend... Sovngarde..."

"Martin's done a great service for us all," Esbern remarked. "And—"

"Well, you know—"

"No, I do know—"

Desmond sighed, turning to leave as the two Blades began to bicker with each other. Such the better—with the two of them duly informed, they could close the book on the Blades entirely.

"There's still the matter of Paarthurnax, though." Delphine had raised her voice ever so slightly, as if to make sure Desmond heard her. He sighed heavily, hanging his head for a moment.

"Are you really going to try to rope me back into this?" he asked, turning back around and crossing his arms. "You know where I stand."

"Yes, but I don't understand why."

"I trust Martin. And after talking with Paarthurnax, I see why he does," Desmond said firmly.

"But do you trust Paarthurnax?"

Desmond paused. "I'm not the ultimate dragonslayer, now am I?" he pointed out. "I'm pretty sure it doesn't matter what I think, because I'm not the one who can kill him."

"I'm not ungrateful for what he's done. For what you've both done," Delphine said quickly. "Esbern speaks for both of us there. But our oath as Blades binds us. Paarthurnax must die. There's no excuse now that Alduin is dead."

Esbern nodded vigorously. "The end of Alduin heralds a time of peace, I am sure of it, but I'm afraid she's right."

"I'm afraid I don't see eye to eye with you on this," Desmond said pointedly.

"I'm deeply sorry that this has to come between us." Esbern shifted uneasily, but his eyes were firmly set on Desmond. "But just as Paarthurnax's later deeds do not allow us to expiate his crimes, Martin's deeds do not allow us to ignore our duty. I hope you will return to us soon, with the news that justice has finally been done."

"You seem to think I'll be coming back." Desmond scowled at them, beginning to regret coming here in the first place. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that Paarthurnax is an ally?"

"Because he's not," Delphine insisted.

"With both Alduin and Paarthurnax dead, a dark chapter in history will finally be closed," Esbern said. "I trust you'll pass this on to Martin?"

"I doubt either of us will be doing anything about it, so no," Desmond said, shaking his head. "If you want to bother him about it again, you'll have to take it up with him."

"Where is he?" Delphine asked.

"Somewhere out in Morrowind by now."

Esbern eyed him suspiciously. "What in the world is he doing in Morrowind? Why isn't he with you?"

"Because we both have better things to do than kill a dragon you don't like!" Desmond told him. "Paarthurnax has proven himself more loyal than either of you. If you want him dead, you're on your own. And you'll have to get through five of us to get to Paarthurnax, so—"

"Five?" Delphine asked, confused.

Desmond grinned smugly, turning to leave Sky Haven Temple for good. "It's amazing what you miss, holing up in a cave and refusing to do your own work."

"Make love like a sabrecat, or crush your enemies into dust like a giant!"

Desmond burst out laughing, trading a pair of bracers to Grelka for something new before he headed back to Fort Dawnguard.

"What's so damn funny?" Grelka demanded.

"Nothing. Thanks," he said, still grinning widely.

"Whatever. Come back when you're ready to spend more gold."

Desmond shook his head, strapping on his new bracers. "Bryn, are you still hawking that sugar water?"

"Hush up, lad." Brynjolf glared at him. "I might actually sell something."

"C'mon, Brynjolf." Desmond leaned on the counter of Brynjolf's stall, peering down at the bottles he had for sale. He picked one up, examining it. "I don't care what it does, no one wants to drink snow elf blood."

"Don't knock it till you've tried it," Brynjolf said, plucking the bottle out of Desmond's hand. "Might get you in with the ladies."

Desmond sighed over-dramatically. "I don't want to get in with the ladies."

Brynjolf rolled his eyes, stacking the bottles behind a cupboard door. "Fine, then. Suit yourself."

"How've you been?"

"Been better." Brynjolf locked the cupboard and reached up to hit the awning of his stall. "Old stand's seen better days than this."

"I think this whole town's seen better days," Desmond commented dully. The little market was desperately empty of customers. As much as he hoped it was because of the early hour, Desmond knew better.

"That's for certain." Brynjolf clapped him on the back, grinning cheerily through the dismal air of Riften. "But look at you! Keeping busy fighting off your monsters?"

"Dragons."

"Vampires, from what I hear."

Desmond nodded, letting Brynjolf guide him at random through the streets. "Yeah. Vampires, too," he said.

"Run out of things to do, yet?"

"Not yet."

"Let me know when you do. Or if you're ever a bit light in the pockets." Brynjolf cast a pointed glance towards the creaking wooden steps that led down to the Ratway, and the Ragged Flagon. "We'd love to have you."

Desmond paused, and shook his head. "Nah. Thieving's not for me," he admitted. "I'd rather get my gold off a dead bandit than a live merchant."

Brynjolf laughed. "You say that now, but—"

"If I ever change my mind, I know where you are," Desmond said, waving as he turned to leave. "You're never too far from here."

Isran had put up more barricades around the fort by the time Desmond returned. There was even a rickety-looking wooden gate, flimsy and guarded by one lonely woman with a crossbow. Desmond waved to her as he passed by, counting the people he saw on the way in. Someone was recruiting, still... and it seemed to be paying off, however slowly.

The main hall was still dim and dusty, and Gunmar and Sorine were already there. Sorine gave a little wave as Desmond came in, fidgeting nervously as metal gates rose to block the three of them in the hall.

"Have you seen—"

Gunmar elbowed him, staring up at the balcony over the hall. A figure with a battleaxe stood over them, presumably Isran.

"All right, Isran," Gunmar said, unimpressed. "You've got us all here. Now what do you want?"

"Hold it right there."

Sunlight shone in from high above, bringing an oppressive heat and brightness into the main hall. Desmond shielded his eyes from the stream of light, annoyed.

"What are you doing?" Sorine asked.

"Making sure you're not vampires. Can't be too careful." Isran halted the beam of sunlight, leaning forward on the balcony to speak to them. "So, welcome to Fort Dawnguard."

"Cozy little place, isn't this?" Gunmar said dismally.

"I'm sure you've heard a bit of what we're up against," Isran went on, appearing not to have heard Gunmar. "Powerful vampires, unlike anything we've seen before. And they have an Elder Scroll."

"So we've heard."

"If anyone is going to stand in their way, it's going to be us."

"Fine. This is all well and good, but do we actually know anything about what they're doing?" Sorine asked anxiously. "What do we do now?"

"We'll get to that. For now, get acquainted with the space."

Desmond leaned back against a pile of boxes, waiting for Isran to lower the gates so he could find someone pleasant to talk to and perhaps get more work from. Maybe Agmaer or Celann would be interested in some dungeon diving...

"In the meantime, boy." Isran leaned a bit further over the railing, glaring down at Desmond. "We're going to get to the bottom of why a vampire showed up here, looking for you."

"...Wait, what?"

"Get up here. Let's go have a little chat with it, shall we?"

The gates came down, bit by creaking, rusted bit. Desmond's mind ran a mile a minute, trying to think of what could have led a vampire here. Had one of them followed him from Castle Volkihar? Did the vampire lord's spell leave some sort of beacon on him that they could track and follow? How—who—?

He mounted the stairs and followed Isran to a small room Desmond had not seen before. Almost immediately after rounding the corner, Desmond ducked back behind the wall, swearing animatedly to himself for a solid minute.

Serana stood alone in the room, looking uncomfortable and nervous.

"This vampire shoewd up while you were away," Isran told him. "I'm guessing it's the one you found in Dimhollow Crypt."

"Yeah."

"Says it's got something really important to say to you. So... let's hear it." Isran leaned back against the wall, staring Serana down.

"You probably weren't expecting to see me again," Serana said awkwardly.

Desmond stared, dumbfounded. Her arms were crossed, her nails digging into the pads of the leather armor she wore. The Elder Scroll still hung on her back. "What... yeah, no, what are you doing here? How did you—"

"Well, you said you were outnumbered at my place, so I figured I'd skip over here to experience the feeling myself." Serana shrugged. "You know. For fun."

Desmond glared at her. "What in Oblivion are you doing here?"

"I'd rather not be here either, but I needed to talk to you," she said. "It's important, so please, just... listen, before your friend here loses his patience."

"What's the deal?" Desmond kept his distance from her all the same, cautious cut curious.

"It's... well, it's about me. And the Elder Scroll that was buried with me."

"Ok. So... what's up?" he repeated. Something about this encounter wasn't sitting right with him.

"I'm guessing you figured this part out already, but my father's not exactly a good person," Serana said dryly. "Even by vampire standards."

"I figured."

"He wasn't always like that though. There was..." She broke off, frowning. "There was a turn. He stumbled onto this obscure prophecy, and just kind of lost himself in it."

"What do you mean, he 'lost himself'?" Desmond asked.

"He just became absorbed. Obsessed. It was kind of sick, actually." Serana shifted her weight between her feet, Isran's piercing glare still trained on her. "The prophecy said that vampires would no longer need to fear the sun. For someone who fancied himself as vampire royalty, that's pretty seductive."

Desmond hesitated, thinking. Prophecies were far out of his area of expertise, but if it were true... "What sorta prophecy?" he asked.

"It's pointless and vague, like all prophecies," Serana assured him. "The part he latched onto was the part that said vampires would no longer need to fear the sun."

"Yeah. That sounds dangerous."

"That's what he's after. He wants the control the sun, have vampires control the world."

Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, still frowning hard. "That'd make our jobs a lot harder."

"...Anyway," Serana went on, "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 the Scroll got to do with it?"

"It doesn't matter," Serana said quickly. "Not really, I mean—"

"I think it does," Desmond shot back.

"No one here can read it, anyway, that's not the point!"

"Why did you even come here if you were just gonna be cryptic and bizarre?" he demanded.

Serana glowered at him, hands on her hips. "I'm sorry, I had heard there were vampire hunters here," she said accusingly. "I thought they might want to know about a vampire plot to enslave the rest of the world. Am I wrong?"

"Wha—no, but—!" Desmond took a breath, caught off-guard. "You took a huge risk coming here, presumably on your own—"

"How stupid do you think I am? I didn't bring any of my father's underlings on my way to subvert him," she snapped.

"What makes you think we can help?"

"Something about you makes me think I can trust you." Serana watched him carefully, still on edge. "I hope I'm not wrong."

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "You want us to help you?"

"That was the plan, yes. Assuming the rest of them can trust a vampire."

"What's to say I trust you?" Desmond asked.

"Nothing," she said immediately. "But you can't afford not to take me seriously, can you?"

Desmond frowned at her, uncomfortable.

"Come on," Serana said pleadingly. "Let me prove I'm an ally."

Isran cleared his throat, still leaning against the wall. "Give me a reason I shouldn't kill this bloodsucking fiend right now."

Desmond paused, sizing up his choices. On the one hand, Serana was distracting them from... something. On the other hand, Serana was tipping them off to something, and something bad. And if she really was on their side...

Finally, he hung his head, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. "Because we need her help," he said reluctantly.

"Why?" Isran demanded. "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 neck coming in here?" Desmond snapped. "She's alone, she's basically unarmed—"

"Who knows, maybe it has a death wish," Isran scoffed. "Maybe it's just insane. I don't really care."

"I didn't see any vampires on my way in here," Desmond said. "She's alone, she didn't bring the rest of the castle. This isn't an ambush, and if it is, it's cleverer than we are."

Isran scowled at him. "We have good eyes watching the gate."

"Right. So she's alone," Desmond rationalized. "She brought the Elder Scroll, so we know it's not with them. Even if this prophecy's all hot air, if we keep her here, we can at least make sure the vampires don't have an Elder Scroll."

Isran's scowl did not lighten. "It can stay for now," he said he was a hair's length away from ordering the rest of the fort to come down on Serana's head. "But if it so much as lays a finger on anyone here, I'll hold you responsible. Got it, boy?"

Desmond swore, turning around to hit his head against the wall. "Fine," he grumbled into the stone. "This better be worth it."

"You hear me?" Isran spat at Serana. "Don't feel like a guest, because you're not. You're a resource. You're an asset. And 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," Serana said venomously. "I'll remember it the next time I'm feeling hungry."

"GROUND RULES," Desmond said loudly, turning around from the wall. "First. You talk about eating people, we're done."

"We've been over this, I don't eat people," Serana reminded him.

"I don't care. You talk about whatever it is you eat, drink, whatever, we're done," Desmond said. "Second—"

"You're in no position to be making ultimatums!" Serana shouted.

"Are you in a position that you can refuse them?" Desmond shot back.

Serana fell silent, glowering at him again.

"Second," he said again. "Weapons. Hand 'em over."

"You've seen me fight and I've seen you shoot," Serana said. "I'm keeping my knife, not that I need it."

"If you don't need it, hand it over," Desmond said firmly.

"It's mine."

"Not here, it's not."

Serana narrowed her eyes, turning over the elven dagger she kept at her waist.

"Third," Desmond said. "Elder Scroll stays with me."

"It's mine!"

"Not here, it's not!"

"What do you need it for, anyhow?" Serana demanded, her voice gone up an octave in panic.

"What do you need it for?"

"Whatever it says, it will have something that can help us stop my father," Serana said. "But no one can read it!"

"So hand it over!"

Serana crossed her arms, fuming. "Aren't you going to ask me who can read it?"

"Buddy of mine read an Elder Scroll a while back," Desmond said. "You know, like you do."

"You know a Moth Priest?" Serana asked, surprised.

"What's a Moth Priest?"

"Oh, gods." Serana raised a hand to her head, sighing deeply. "This is going to be a mess."

"What in Oblivion's a Moth Priest?" Desmond asked again.

"Moth Priests spend years preparing to read Elder Scrolls," Serana said. "Not that it helps us, because they're all half a continent away in Cyrodiil."

"Then why'd you even bring it up?"

Isran cleared his throat again, drawing their attention. "Some Imperial scholar arrived in Skyrim a few days ago," he said. "I was staking out the road when I saw him pass by. Maybe that's your Moth Priest friend."

"My friend's not a Moth Priest," Desmond corrected.

"Whatever."

"Do you know where he is now?" Serana asked Isran.

"No, and I'm not going to waste men looking," Isran said fiercely.

"Fine. We'll find him ourselves." Serana crossed her arms, drawing herself up tall. "Right?"

"Don't be volunteering me for stuff!" Desmond snapped.

"She's your problem," Isran reminded him. Desmond grumbled incoherently, letting his head fall back against a shelf. "You want to find him, try talking to anyone who'd meet a traveler. Innkeepers and carriage drivers in the big cities, maybe."

"Skyrim's a pretty big place... he could have gone anywhere in a few days," Serana mused. "Any ideas?"

"Where would a Moth Priest even go?" Desmond asked, staring at the ceiling with the back of his head still against the shelf. "What's interesting in Skyrim?"

"Well, back before I... you know," Serana said pointedly. "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."

Desmond's mouth twitched into a small smile. "Sounds about right."

"I'm going to come along with you," Serana said decisively. "I've been really wanting to get out and explore a bit."

"You just want to come so I'll give you your knife back."

"It's a plus, yeah."

Desmond stood up straight, narrowing his eyes at her. "Ground rules still stand. And if your teeth get within arm's reach of me, I shoot."