A/N: Here we go.

Nierembergia

Summary: She hated vampires after the Hall of the Vigilants burned. Joining the Dawnguard to eradicate every last bloodsucker made sense. Finding out that there was more to the vampires' schemes wasn't part of her plan for revenge, but they'll burn just the same.

*Chapter 3*

Night in Dayspring Canyon was quiet. Too quiet for Elise, and her untrained eyes scowled into the darkness. The light coming from the giant braziers in front of Fort Dawnguard were more of a hindrance than anything, constantly playing with her night vision and making her tense at the tiniest of shadows. She was sat on top of the watchtower with her crossbow in hand, but without the eyes of a khajiit, she wasn't sure she'd be able to even hit a vampire if one was stalking the fortress.

Elise growled irritably and strained to see, keeping alert for any movement. After some time she heard the tower doors open behind her and the Breton looked over her shoulder to see a handsome blond man dressed in a set of heavy Dawnguard armor. She remembered him as the boy who came up to the fort with her and she turned back around as he came to join her on the tower. Agmaer was his name, she recalled. "Relief?"

"Yeah," Agmaer said, laughing nervously and scratching the back of his head. How someone so socially awkward could become a vampire hunter, she had no idea, but maybe the boy had shown a lot of heart or something. "Isran told me to take over. You've been out here for six hours."

Had she? Elise could have sworn it was only about maybe two hours past sundown, but now that she thought about it, the inky blackness of night had slowly turned a strange indigo in color. I was out here this long?

"I didn't realize," she admitted, standing up from her perch and stretching. She groaned at the creaks of her joints and cracked her shoulders, rubbing the stiffness away. "It didn't feel like that much time passed."

"Hah." Agmaer snorted and stood next to her. "Isran was tearing the fort apart looking for you before Durak rather dryly suggested you were still on watch." Elise laughed at the absurdity of them somehow forgetting to check the most obvious spot and the blond man yawned. "If there's going to be any kind of attack, now would be the time, wouldn't it? Sun will be up in a few."

Elise shrugged. Vampires were clever hunters, but even with night still on their side, they would have to be incredibly dimwitted to try and attack the Dawnguard in their own home. Still, it wasn't a chance that the order would be willing to take, hence the constant watches during the night. "If they're smart, they wouldn't try it," she eventually answered. "But no one ever accused those fiends as being capable of thinking past their lust for mortal blood." She spat the last few words, feeling anger burn through her veins as visions of the destroyed Hall of the Vigilants flashed before her eyes.

What's done is done. Nothing will bring them back. But they can still be avenged. I'll wipe out every last vampire from the face of this world.

Kill them all or die trying.

Clearspring Tarn was in fact not as easily accessible as the Thieves Guild representative made it out to be. Tolan had assumed as much, the guild being known for purposely withholding some details. Details that had a remarkable tendency to turn out to be important ones. The near sheer cliff looming some hundreds of feet above him and tiny dirt trail that spiraled up the mountain had only confirmed his suspicions. Tolan sighed and tugged a scarf over his face to shield himself from the wind as he began his trudge up the cliff to the tarn, pebbles tumbling down with each step he took. This is a prized location for hunters? What kind of madman would even think of trying to hunt on a sheer cliff?

Either they were insane or the wildlife that lived on the mountain was worth the risk. More than likely, it was because the local Nords were all crazy and the idea of going up a trail mere inches from certain death was tame by their standards. Then again, this was the very same people who once had a king literally Shout a dragon into submission he was talking about. Tolan snorted in amusement despite the peril he was in. His people had always been strange, even amongst other warriors. I'm just as crazy for tracking a huntsman up this way. I think we've long since been out of safe options.

The air got thinner the higher he climbed, another hazard that came with his journey. Tolan sorely wished he were twenty years younger, and the old Nord was gasping for air when he reached the top. The lake that pooled at the peak was crystal clear, teeming with fish, and the shores were dotted with colorful flowers and tall grasses. Life thrived here. It was a little splash of nature untainted by man, and Tolan could spot several deer grazing across the pool. The game is rich here. No ordinary hunter can make the climb up, let alone have the fitness to have consistent aim and steady hand.

And somewhere here, there was a huntsman that Isran wanted to be recruited into the Dawnguard more than anyone on his list.

Tolan searched around for anything that could give him clues as to Gunmar's present location. His old eyes picked up a pair of large footprints in the dirt and he would have dismissed them as an orc's, if he hadn't been told that Gunmar was a huge man towering some seven feet tall and built like a bear. He's here. The prints are fresh and leading that way, back towards the cliff face up ahead. Is that where the cavern itself is? He followed the trail along the cliff edge and he nearly ran head-long into the man he was searching for.

Gunmar War-Bear was true to his name; a big brute of a Nord with reddish-brown hair combed to the side and a full beard. He wore scaled horned armor, a brown scarf tied around his waist, and the big man held out his hand to stop the former Vigilant. "Get back!" He hissed. "There's a troll here that's been preying on hunters. I'm not letting any more people fall to this beast."

"Gunmar, right?"

"Aye. Who are you? What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"My name is Tolan," the former Vigilant introduced. "I'm looking for you. Isran needs your help."

Gunmar laughed bitterly. "Isran, needing my help?" The laughter stopped and he shook his head. "It's a few years too late for that, my friend. I've moved on. Besides, the ruddy hell could he need my help for? I'm a huntsman and blacksmith now."

"Vampires," Tolan answered. "They burned the Hall of the Vigilants and killed everyone there. Even Carcette is dead." He still couldn't believe that the Keeper of the Hall finally fell in battle, and to bloody abominations at that. We really were outclassed. We thought we could take them on because we had experience fighting daedra worshippers and cultists. We were wrong. So terribly wrong.

"Vampires?" Gunmar's thick eyebrows drew down. "That... that changes things. If they've taken out the Vigilants, then Isran has the right idea to want to put an end to them. Do we know anything about their motives?"

"Nothing. One of our brothers was convinced a nearby crypt held some sort of long-lost vampire artifact of some kind, but all searches found the crypt to be empty. As far as we know, the attack was unprovoked."

"Hmm." Gunmar frowned and his eyes suddenly lit up. "I tell you what, if you can help me put an end to this troll, I'll come see what Isran is offering. He's still in that fort east of Stendarr's Beacon?"

"How did you know?"

Gunmar chuckled good-naturedly. "If Isran is anything, he's stubborn. He's been working on that place for years. His own secret fortress in the mountains. He never let anyone in. I hope that hammer of yours isn't just for show, my friend."

Tolan lifted it with a smile of grim determination. "I might be old, but I can still crack skulls."

Elise woke to a gruff male voice ordering her to get up, and her eyes snapped open as the cot she had thrown herself onto suddenly jolted. The Breton sprung out of bed, still dressed in her armor, and she would have probably grabbed her hammer if it were anyone but Isran. The old Redguard snorted as she relaxed and folded his arms. "I have another job for you. How well do you know the Reach?"

Elise shrugged and rotated a stiff shoulder. "Enough to know there's a daedric cult somewhere in the northeast. Why?"

"There's someone out there. A Breton woman, by the name of Sorine Jurard. Whip-smart and a weapons expert. She's someone I worked with once in the past, many years ago. I was hoping to recruit her into the Dawnguard."

"And you want me to scour the largest and most dangerous hold in all of Skyrim so I can drag her sorry backside here?"

"Is that a problem?" Isran asked challengingly.

"Not at all." Elise grinned savagely. This man was nothing like Carcette. The Keeper refused to let Elise see an ounce of actual battle, whereas Isran threw her into the fire and expected to see the job get done. Punishingly utilitarian, and prioritizing results over anything else. Someone she could work with. Her stomach growled hungrily and she remembered that she hadn't eaten before going to bed and there was no point in making that big of a journey on an empty stomach. "Do you have any leads where I can begin the search?"

"Markarth is a good start. Sorine has a fascination with the dwemer, so she probably would go see the court wizard in the city. Calcelmo is his name. Witty old bastard of an altmer, leading the excavation of the dwarven city underneath Markarth's keep and the owner of the local dwemer museum. If anyone will have any idea where Sorine is, it's him."

"That confident she'd have spoken to him?"

"Calcelmo is an expert on the dwemer and the only one in Tamriel who can properly translate the falmer language. I'd be more surprised if she didn't go talk to him, considering they're both in the same field albeit for different purposes. She's an invaluable asset and a woman I would trust at my back, not something I'd do lightly. She might take some persuading, since we didn't part on the best of terms, but I imagine she'll be foaming at the mouth for a chance to say, 'I told you so' to me." Isran rolled his eyes at the last bit. For as blunt as he was, he was a fan of sarcasm it seemed.

"I assume I'm going out alone?" Elise asked. It wasn't that company bothered her, but she tended to work best on her lonesome. Less chance for something to go wrong, and no one knew the limits of her body better than she did. Of course, it also meant she had no one to watch her back, either. The Reach was the most dangerous hold in all of Skyrim, and not solely for the steep mountains that ranged across the entire hold into Haafingar. Forsworn tribes made their homes in the hills, and that was nothing to say of the supposed daedric cult in the northeast part of the hold. She had only heard rumors from other Vigilants, but the cult was said to have made their home in an old dwarven city far away from civilization. She had no idea what daedra they were devoted to and didn't particularly care. If it weren't for the vampires, she might have been sent out on behalf of the Vigilants to wipe them out by now.

"You can take Agmaer with you," Isran answered, grunting. "Until Tolan comes back with Gunmar, I can't afford to send anyone else out with you. Not while the Order is as vulnerable as it is."

"What do you want to do about the cult? They could turn out to be a problem if we leave them be."

"Your priority is Sorine. That said, if the cult were to suffer an unfortunate accident, I wouldn't complain about it." Isran's eyes closed slowly. "As long as Sorine makes back to the fort. Her knowledge will make her a target, if she isn't one already."

Move with haste, he didn't say. He didn't need to.

Elise was already securing both a crossbow and her hammer to her person and grinned, vicious and all teeth. "If this helps us destroy those bloodsuckers, I'll do whatever it takes."

Isran didn't say anything and watched her with the eyes of a hawk. The Breton woman weaved through the fort searching for the boy Isran said she could take with her, and she found him in the grand dining hall. He was seated at the long table with Celann on his left and Durak to his right, the two senior members of the Dawnguard whispering something to the young Nord man. Whatever it was had Agmaer snorting in laughter and he leaned over to clink his flagon against Celann's, eyes lighting up as Elise made her way over.

He waved one hand over, inviting her to the table. "Pleasant morning, isn't it?"

Elise shrugged, grabbed a bowl, and helped herself to a regular portion of horker stew and a side of grilled leeks. The meat would give her the necessary protein and energy for a long walk in the middle of nowhere, and she sat down across from the three vampire hunters. The stew was heartier than she was used to, concentrated on making sure the consumer was full and not bloated to the point of being useless in combat. Not bad at all. Who knew that vampire hunters had skills in the kitchen?

She then spotted the book of Nordic recipes stashed on top of a cupboard next to the cooking spit, the small splash of broth on Celann's light grey armor and it clicked into place. Elise swallowed a mouthful of stew and set the wooden spoon down. "Isran is sending me after someone."

"He is?" Celann was bent over his own bowl, letting steam wash over his face. "So soon?"

Elise shrugged. "I don't like sitting still." She had enough of being coddled in the Vigilants and wasn't about to let that happen in the Dawnguard. Not when she finally got a taste of bloodshed and found she enjoyed the adrenaline rush hunting one of the abominations. She ate another spoonful before divulging the details of her latest mission. "Isran is sending me into the Reach to find someone called Sorine Jurard."

Celann raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

Durak wasn't anywhere near as quiet. The orsimer snorted and stabbed his fork into a piece of meat. "So he's throwing you into the Sea of Ghosts to see whether you sink or swim. Ha. He's always been like this. So, you'll be off again. Are you going alone like your first job?"

"No. He said I could take Agmaer with me," Elise replied.

Agmaer choked on stew and received a none-too-gentle thump on the back from Durak. The blond man wiped his mouth and stammered out a reply. "B-but I haven't even..."

"Killed a vampire yet?" Celann guessed.

Agmaer nodded, shamefaced.

Celann laughed and gave the man a reassuring grin. "Not every mission is blood and glory. Sometimes, it's nothing more than a recruitment pitch. Though the two of you being entrusted with this task worries me slightly."

"In what way? Think we can't get it done?" Elise folded her arms.

"Skill has nothing to do with it," Celann shot back. "Isran is purposely keeping the veterans here in the fort when we could easily handle those tasks. I think he believes we're going to come under attack and wants every able-bodied man here on guard when it comes. That's not to say either of you are weak," he hastily added when Elise opened her mouth to spit out a nasty retort. "But when it comes to fighting vampires, you are both novices compared to those of us who've been fighting them for a decade or longer. Keeping newcomers out of a potential assault is his concern; the Dawnguard will never get off its feet if every new recruit drops dead." Fair enough.

"How soon do you think they'll strike?"

"Probably as soon as you two are out of the Rift. Any vampires lurking in the area would come once they notice a scout team leave the canyon. I don't know if they've found us, but the covens might begin to take notice that a town they were supposed to enthrall has gone quiet." Celann frowned. "We might want to keep an eye on Ivarstead, in case the town comes under attack again. I heard your report from Isran, but did you notice anything else out of place?"

"There was the old Nordic ruin in the middle of the village, but it looked quiet. I didn't think it was wise to go off for an adventure in a burial crypt filled with draugr when the priority was getting rid of the bloodsucker stalking the villagers. If I had one or two others with me more than capable of holding their own, I'd have gone in." Elise wasn't dumb enough to wander into a hazardous ruin by her lonesome. If the traps didn't get her, the draugr would've. She really didn't understand the mercenaries who'd willingly go in and plunder the barrows for treasure, especially when nearly all of them were never heard from again. There was a big difference between being courageous in battle and having a complete lack of self-preservation.

Celann and Durak shared a look and a nod. "I'll run it by Isran when I catch him in a better mood," the Breton man said. "Agmaer, stop stuffing your face and get prepped for a journey."

The blond man flushed and swallowed his last bite of buttered bread. "Y-yes sir!"

"What did we tell you about calling us, 'sir'? This isn't the army."

"R-right." Agmaer chuckled nervously. "Sorry."

Durak snorted.

Elise finished her stew and stood up, feeling a satisfied crack as she rolled her shoulders. She gave Agmaer a savage grin, all teeth. "Don't forget to bring a bedroll. You're not sleeping in my tent."

Agmaer turned as red as a tomato and shoved a hand into Durak's laughing face.

Taurcano Elsinahl was not a patient man. One would think that immortality would have taught it, but his impatience always came out whether he liked it or not. When he gave orders, he expected them to be followed to the letter. Hearing of his coven's failure to completely subdue Ivarstead had him slouching into his ruby-encrusted throne, head resting in his palm while he twirled a goblet of red liquid in his other. Become a vampire, his former master once said. No one told him that his subordinates would be so damn pathetic. The black-haired altmer sighed and looked down at the sniveling Imperial at his feet, golden eyes piercing into the fledgling's very soul. "I would like for you to explain how you failed so spectacularly."

The fledgling didn't meet his eyes. "I-I don't know! When I woke up at midnight to begin hunting, I-"

"Stop," the altmer vampire master ordered. The fledgling fell quiet and Taurcano sighed, setting his goblet down on the arm of his throne. "Let me... rephrase the question. Who is to blame for your failure to enthrall the town?"

"M-my blood-brother..." the fledgling confessed. He knelt down far enough to almost kiss the ground and Taurcano fought the urge to kick him, if only to make the weakling stop that damn whining. "I don't know who did it, but he was slain sometime last night. This is all that remains of him." He slipped a shaking hand under his robes and procured a small vial filled with white ashes. He held it out to his master and the elder vampire took it. Vampire dust. Losing their scout leader was a blow to Taurcano's entire operation, and he could not afford to give up any ground. Not when he was so close to achieving his goal of becoming one of, if not the, biggest and most powerful clan in all of Skyrim. The Volkihar clan was too convinced of their superiority, yet they had done nothing with the gifts given to them. What was the point of having power if you did nothing with it?

"As his brother, the responsibility falls on you to see that we succeed, Adamus," he said, pocketing the ashes into his black robes for now. "Find who murdered your brother and kill them. We cannot afford to give ground to the other covens in Skyrim. The casket is somewhere near, I can smell it."

"M-master, I-"

"Unless you have some form of news that is of great importance, you standing there blubbering like a fool is making it very difficult to not give in and feed you to the death hounds. What is it? And stop stuttering like a child."

Adamus bowed his head and regained his composure. "Master, I thought I should warn you that there is an Imperial military camp just across the bridge from Ivarstead, near the strange dwarven structure. Searching the area for the casket is not going to be an easy task with them patrolling the hills."

Taurcano's lips curled up into a vicious smile. "Why should they be a problem? The Empire knows its place in the world. Its time is limited. As long as they do not interfere with our business, I see no point in exterminating them. Should they put their noses into our business, then we will take action. Until then, continue as we have planned. We are so very close to finding one of the most important caskets in all of Skyrim. Such an opportunity cannot be squandered, no matter what the cost."

"Is... is this casket that important?" Adamus dared to ask.

Taurcano nodded and beckoned the boy over. His orders could wait for now while he explained to him just what their coven was searching for, if only to ensure that he would remain loyal to the cause. "Yes. Tell me, boy. Have you ever heard the tale of Tomark Bres?"

After Gunmar and Tolan made short work of the troll infesting the cave underneath Clearspring Tarn, they had split once they made their way back down the mountain. Tolan needed to pick up some extra potions from Riften's alchemist, and Gunmar reassured him that he could make his way to Fort Dawnguard on his lonesome without much difficulty.

Tolan was content to let him go. The man was a huntsman, more than capable on his own against a bunch of lowly bandits or even another troll.

He never would have believed it if he hadn't witnessed it, but Gunmar was much stronger than Isran let on and not only wrestled a troll into submission but was able to hold over his head and slam it onto the ground so Tolan could finish it off with his hammer. The former Vigilant shuddered to think what the man could do to a vampire with his bare hands after seeing them beat a troll near to death. He thought the stories he heard from numerous drunken huntsmen in Riften was just exaggeration. Typical mercenary nonsense to make the man seem more than he was.

But after seeing Gunmar in action firsthand, he didn't doubt them anymore. Just what kind of work did he do with Isran in the past?

The old Nord sighed and pulled his hood over his head. I ought to find a scarf or cloak to keep warm. Both sounds great right now. His robes really weren't cut out for going into the mountains, the silk torn in places and exposing bits of skin that slowly grew numb from the cold. He'd be much happier and a lot warmer back at the fort.

Still, the mission was a success. The Dawnguard had a powerful new member amongst their order now, and soon they could begin to put the vampires on the back foot. If not for Skyrim, then for his comrades that lost their lives that terrible night. For the first time in weeks, he felt as though a weight had begun to lift from his shoulders.

Revenge looked all but certain now.

Elise ducked under the pincher of a frostbite spider and slammed her hammer through the wretched creature's body with a loud crunch. The thing convulsed and shrieked in pain before rolling up on its back, still idly twitching, and the blonde woman shuddered before finishing it off. She wasn't fond of spiders; the tiny ones that were more terrified of humans than vice-versa weren't a problem. It was the ones bigger than a wolf that had large eyes, foot-long fangs dripping with venom, spikes on their legs, and liked to ambush travelers on their way to Riften.

She didn't consider herself weird for thinking every frostbite spider could walk off a cliff and die.

What was more galling was how Agmaer was handling them without even batting an eyelid. The boy had less social skills than anyone Elise had ever met, yet he was hacking frostbite spiders to bits with his axe and not at all fazed by their deathly shrieks. His armor was covered in guts and he gave her a toothy grin after he cut the last spider in half, wiping blood off of his axe. "Scared of spiders?" he asked teasingly.

Elise huffed, looking away. No, her cheeks were not burning. Nope. "Fear keeps you motivated."

"Sure it does." Agmaer's grin all the larger.

"I swear to any Divine listening, I will punch you so hard," the Breton threatened, though she was laughing at it too. Spiders the size of wolves or bigger could still all die though. Give me vampires any day. There was some sort of irony that a person who found hunting vampires to be enjoyable was also afraid of frostbite spiders. It was the kind of thing everyone in the Dawnguard would find hilarious.

Their journey to Riften was fairly quiet, bar a lone sabre cat that was chasing a deer and made the poor choice of getting in their way. When they reached the city, a pair of guards stood at the gate and refused to give entry, moving into position to deny them. Elise eyed them warily and her hand clasped the handle of her hammer. It never hurt to be cautious when it came to the City of Thieves.

"Halt!" the guard on the left barked in a deep voice. "Before I let you into the city, you need to pay the visitor's tax."

"What? What tax? Why?" Agmaer asked curiously.

"For the privilege of entering the city of course." The man snorted in disbelief, as if he couldn't believe someone didn't believe the rubbish he was spewing. "What else would it be?"

Elise felt like calling them out on their corruption and would have if it weren't for Agmaer smiling at them. "Come now, surely you don't need to shakedown us two. All we need is someone willing to give us a carriage ride to Markarth." She wasn't sure what the hell was going on, but the blond man didn't back down and Elise stood next to him as support, trying to give a calm smile. The guard flinched away when she came to stand next to her fellow vampire hunter and looked away.

"Alright," he muttered, fumbling into his armor to draw out a key. "Keep your voice down. I'll unlock the gate. You're free to enter, though keep those weapons of yours sheathed, or they'll be trouble." He stared pointedly at Elise, who was not willing to let go of her hammer in sight of corrupt guards.

Elise watched the man like a hawk as he unlocked the gate, bidding them welcome. Agmaer thanked the man and once they were inside, Elise pulled him aside into one of Riften's alleyways away from prying ears. "How the bloody hell did you do that?"

"Ah, well, my mother was a shopkeeper," Agmaer said bashfully. "She taught me a lot about haggling growing up, how to get a fair deal and be able to tell when someone is lying. Some of those lessons stuck, despite not being interested in the business. Riften is run by the Thieves Guild, and if there's one thing you can always count on, it's a thief being dishonest. There's no such thing as a visitor's tax; it's merely another way for the Thieves Guild to get their hands on more gold that doesn't belong to them."

"You're a lot smarter than I thought you were the first time we met." Elise shook her head and laughed. "So I guess I get to leave all the difficult conversations to you? I'm not sure if that little display showed you anything, but I'll be the first to admit I'm not much good at diplomacy." She was a fighter, a pretty good one, but that was about it. Her area of expertise was really limited.

"Well, uh, I guess?" Agmaer shrugged. "I mean, I-"

Elise had already gone off to the nearby tavern to grab a few stiff drinks for the road. Agmaer sighed and chased after her.

A/N: A little shorter than I'd like, but I want to focus mostly on the Reach next chapter. This isn't the end of the Dawnguard's operations in the Rift, and we get a glimpse of what our antagonist is planning. The resurrection of the most powerful vampire in history.