"Wait-" Irina threw her hands up in the air, to signify she wasn't ready, she needed but a moment to gain her bearings. Fura just ran straight toward her, the intent to battle in her eye. She blatantly ignored the bosmer.
Irina's instinct took over and she pivoted on her heel and threw a chair in Fura's direction with the swing of her body. With her hands free Irina rolled onto the floor away from the woman. Fura cut up the chair destroying it in a cloud of sawdust.
The debris and dust flew up from the stone floor and Fura's silhouette was the only thing visible, her shadow... and the eyes of autmn.
"Oh my. Hestla's not going to be happy about that" Fura spoke dismissively. She caught the elf's eyes and she felt her lips curl upwards, something about the look of disbelief the dovahkiin had made her smug.
The bosmer narrowed her eyes at the nord and caught her breath. Her character seemed a little off, but Irina sensed no threat from her. Other than the excitement of wanting to swing her sword around. Must be a nord thing.
Bronze hands pushed themselves off from the cold stone floor and her body followed to stand "Would you blame her? You've just cut up one of her things, I would be angry too."
Fura gave a light chuckle in response and waited for the elf to unsheathe her ebony sword. She'd been eyeing the sword ever since Irina stepped into the room, such fine black metal... like a cloak of midnight. It was only appropiate for a vampire to wield it.
"That is a fine blade, but tell me, do you know how to use it?" The tone of the woman's voice was condescending and on purpose. Her form had emerged from the cloud of dust and she'd drawn her dwarven sword up close to her chest, the blade was covering the right side of her face but doing nothing to hide the proud smirk etched onto her lips.
Irina's eyebrow twitched in annoyance.
Her tactic was a simple one, and had it been any other week Irina would have retorted with something equally as disrespectful. Yet, her mind was a clouded mess. Lydia at the forefront of it, and while she knew she needed to take things as they came and to put more mental energy to a solution than the problem, Fura's words irritated her.
It didn't help her case that Irina had been rendered unconscious just hours after she was taught to use her vampire lord.
"I am in no mood for witty banter, Fura. Come, face me." the dovahkiin said in a commanding voice.
Fura ran straight for her again, she kept both hands to her blade despite being a one-handed weapon. Fura was able to put more force to her strikes this way and better able to angle her weapon as well.
Her excitement soon turned to ash in her mouth. For every precise strike she gave to the bosmer, the short woman would either block it with her sword effortlessly or sidestep out of the way. Irina moved gracefully and never once took her eyes off of the nord. Her leveled gaze was enough for Fura to take a few paces backwards.
"You are more talented with that blade than I thought. Who taught you these skills?" Fura asked. She loosed tension in her wrists by moving them in small circles, her dwarven blade moving along with her grip.
"I never had the luxury of mentor, I had to get cut and learn from that." Irina said.
"I could only imagine what sort of monster you'd be with a teacher. You're very good." Fura said.
Irina only nodded in response. She watched the nord's movements, unsure if they were going to continue. Irina was too much of challenge for the nord, both of them could see that plain as day. However, they would continue until one person yields. They both knew it was not going to be Irina.
With a dejected sigh at seeing she was outmatched, Fura spoke "alright, I submit. The victory goes to you, dragoborn."
Irina eyed her before sheathing her blade.
That has got to be one of the shortest sparring sessions she's ever had. Fura was skilled with technique but lacked patience and strength, Irina would have cut her down before she had a chance to learn from her mistakes. Perhaps, she had the foresight to recognize this.
The bosmer raised a brow, "How do you know who I am? I thought to the rest of you I was simply another bosmer. Who else knows?"
"We aren't shut out from the rest of the world, do you think we simply lurk in this castle and feed on the same rotting mortals in the dungeons?" Fura asked her. It was a valid point, and embarrassingly enough Irina did think they stuck to the castle. The bosmer gave a small sigh and shook her head.
"For how long have you had your suspicions?" Irina asked.
"I knew from the moment you walked in, as did a few of the others. Our lord of course knows this too." She said.
Just as Irina was about to ask more questions the agonzing burn of her cut bothered her again. She grunted and dropped to a knee, her hand hovering over her wound and her body hunched over. The coolness of the stone floor made the elf want to free herself of her clothes and lay herself there, something to soothe the burning sensation.
Fura scanned the woman with an analyzing eye. In a matter of moments, she was next to the elf in a crouched position as well. Her hand swelled with the warm light of magic and she placed her palm over the woman's covered shoulder.
"You have the worst luck, silver in the body twice not even two weeks apart."
"How perceptive of you." Irina said with a roll of her eyes.
The older vampire hooked an arm underneath the elf and hoisted her to her feet, Irina grunted at the lack of gentleness. "I would tell you to take off your armor and let me have a better look at your wound, but judging from the way you moved something tells me I shouldn't bother to. My magic is strong, I'd say you'd be fine with a little rest and some fresh blood."
She untangled herself from the dovahkiin and placed a hand on her hip, "but that will come later, our lord has words for the castle to hear." she motioned for the bosmer to follow her out of the forge and to the great hall where Harkon was want to give his grand speeches. Irina couldn't be sure if she respected him out of fear or loyalty, but she was soon to find out.
"Scions of the night, hear my words!"
Heads turned, including the wood elf's and the vampires grew silent.
"The prophesied time is at last upon us, soon we will claim dominion over the sun itself and forge a new realm of eternal darkness, now that I have reclaimed one of my elder scrolls... we must find a moth priest to read it."
Irina watched him intently, no emotion betraying her face. Yet all the same, her stomach felt light at the implication of his words, a new realm of eternal darkness. Harkon was not a grandiose man, his excitement in his words only made Irina think their was nothing short of promise in them.
Then there was the matter of the elder scroll. She was well aware of their power having dealt with one herself, and she was still posession of one. She would need to remind herself that it needs to be kept in a safe location, away from men such as Harkon.
"I have spread false rumors of the discovery of an elder scroll to lure a moth priest here, now it is time to see if those efforts have bourne fruit, go forth, and search the land for rumors of a moth priest within our borders. Look to the cities, speak to innkeepers, carriage drivers, anyone who would meet a traveler... Go now, and carry out this task, this is my command!"
His voice echoed through the hall powerfully. Irina had even stood up straighter at the sound of it, she cast a sideways glance to Fura who simply stared ahead at her lord. She bore no expression either, Irina made a mental note of that. Her eyes didn't have time to scan anyone else's expression because within a matter of moments vampires began to shout.
"As you command, my lord!" One woman bellowed.
"It shall be done, my lord!" Another woman said.
Irina was not one of them, she buried herself in her thoughts to try and comprehend what she was to make of all this.
An elder scroll being the main object to attain a realm of eternal darkness, and a moth priest to make the plan all come together. He'd mentioned the enemy they faced was the sun, in which he was correct. A vampire had a weakness to the sun... and the power of an elder scroll was immense. Did he mean to find some sort of artifact to combat the sun's power?
"Any idea how you're going to find a moth priest? Skyrim's a pretty big place" Serana's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
Irina glanced upwards to the taller woman and shook her head, "not quite... I mean, a few places come to mind. I'm not sure which ones to choose first."
Serana glanced at her with confusion "how Isn't your shoulder bothering you? I just realized you needed to tend to it."
"Oh, yes. I was sparring? Practicing? My swordmanship with Fura Bloodmouth, after we had finished she offered to heal me with magic. I feel immensely better, she says I need but rest and fresh blood."
Serana nodded "how kind of her to do that."
Irina responded "yes, and I plan to heed her advice, I am getting sick of the Dawnguard entirely."
"So what are these places that come to mind? I imagine you'll be in the castle for at least another night until your cut is better." Serana asked with her arms crossed. Her eyes bore into the dovahkiin's and Irina found that the atmosphere had changed albeit only slightly.
There was an analyzing look in the woman's eye and Irina wasn't sure why that would be. Perhaps it was the issue of trust, she was Harkon's daughter after all and would try to serve him as best as she could. As was the way with royals.
"I was going to go to Solitude." Irina lied with a skilled tongue.
"Solitude? What's there?" the nord asked with a bit of curiousity.
"I am in the queen's good graces, and my husband is a member of her court. A moth priest is an important person, and I'm sure that the queen will have heard of his coming. That or I could ask my husband to find him, he's got men that are good at it" Irina said with skilled articulation. She never would have guessed her speechcraft would come in handy against the vampire.
The nord responded almost off-handedly "I do forget that you're married. The plan is sound enough, well, make sure to rest and do as Fura says. If you need someone to come with you, I am more than willing to set out again. Just say the word and I'm yours."
"I will remember that, my lady."
With a bored glint in her eye, Irina traded with Feran Sadri. He had a great many healing potions, and Irina needed them all. If she were to run into the Dawnguard at a location farther than Ivarstead with no place to go, she would have to rely on their usefulness for she was no good at magic.
He had asked her if she was familiar with the school of restoration and she told him how little she cared for magic. This seemed to encourage him on lecturing her of the importance of the arcane arts, and how as mer it should come to them naturally.
She had seemed off-put by this, the woman was from Valenwood. She had seen little use of magic with the bosmer she lived with, they used very novice level alteration spells but that was mainly it. So she had no idea where Feran Sadri was getting his information.
"I have jewels and soul gems, and I also have arrows of all kinds, if weapons please you." Irina said as she summoned her pack.
At seeing her summon Feran seemed excited, "you do use magic, how else would you have conjured your bag? You had almost scared me."
"I assure you, I normally don't. This is a simple spell that even I could cast, I prefer the sword and bow."
After a few exchanged sentences and some more small talk, Irina finally felt as if she had enough potions to last her a couple days with a flesh wound. The mere fact that she has to be weary of people with skill far beneath hers was irritating, however she knew better than to underestimate the silver weapons they wielded.
She bid the dunmer a brief farewell and thanked him for the supplies. He gave a curt nod and handed empty soul gems to his assistant Ronthil, who scurried away with them someplace.
Her footsteps were silent as she walked past the great hall and to the front doors. Serana had long since retired someplace and Irina was thankful that she wasn't sought out for again, she wanted to be alone this time, more time to herself was valuable. She thought clearer and was more efficient.
Although, as she stepped outside into the cold air Irina silently reminded herself to bring her along on the next adventure.
"I apologize, dragonborn, but I have not seen any scholars around here." said an old woman.
"No I haven't seen anybody like the guy you're talking about." Came the reply of a young boy.
"Haven't heard a damn thing, sorry." said a farmer with a thick accent.
"Nope." replied a young woman.
"I might tell you if I have, if you decided to be generous and make it worth my while." said a foolish man with a sly grin.
Irina had picked that man's pockets as soon as he turned his back on her. The dovahkiin rubbed her temples, she didn't expect to find the man on her first try but she had hoped for at least a lead but nobody had seen or heard anything.
She had tried her luck inside the Winking Skeever, talking to merchants, the carriage driver and even tried her luck in the stables.
Just as she suspected, they all scratched their heads and said no.
Further along the road she would soon reach the small town of Dragonbridge, it would be a good place to stop and rest since the road ahead of the bridge forked into two paths, she could set her journey either to the reach where imperials are welcomed or to Whiterun a neutral territory.
She didn't suppose that a Moth Priest would spend his time in Whiterun but Irina was no intellectual, she had no idea where a man of intelligence would like to spend his free time. Irina ran hand through her hair and continued on the path that lead to Dragonbridge, it was but an hours walk away and she was restless to take her boots off.
Upon reaching the town the sun had long since set and her shoulder should have been healed. She did not rest as Fura instructed but she did feed on one of the thralls in the dungeons before she left, to keep herself satiated until the next person.
The inn's fires burned bright, Irina could tell from the outline of light the front door and windows possessed. A bard singing her a song and some ale sounded rather nice, she hadn't enjoyed a good song in ages. With only herself and old men on High Hrothgar she had taken to singing when she was alone.
A small grin crept up to her face at the memory of Lydia. The nord would always sigh loudly in relief whenever they spotted sight of an inn. She never missed the sound of her voice as she did now, her poor housecarl.
With a sigh, Irina shook her head and walked inside.
It was lively, unsurprisingly.
It was as if the residents of the town all flocked to the inn. Tables were full, men were dirty from work and women were scarcely there. Just a few here and there, flirting with their partners, enjoying their ales and men.
Irina gulped nervously. She hoped to all the divines that no one would draw attention to her, everyone seemed rather immersed in themselves so it didn't seem like-
A loud whistle brought her out of her thoughts. Her eyes went to the other side of the inn to find a man dressed like a farmer drunk out of his mind, his cheeks were a rosy red and he was laughing uncontrollably. His friends sitting beside him looked utterly embarrassed but they were too drunk to try and stop him from quieting down. The drunken man was whistling over to the inn keeper, a nord named Faida.
"Faida, darling... dance with me, I'd be honored-" he was cut off his own retching. He'd grasped Faida's hands within his own and was trying to coax her but she'd quickly yanked her hand back and hurried away before the farmer- or whatever he was, vomit onto the wooden floor.
His friends cursed into their own hands and shook their hands in disappointment.
"We're so sorry Faida... We'll clean this up. Gods... c'mon guys help me move him" A man with blonde hair and blue eyes carried his friend up and out of the inn with two others and called back to the innkeeper saying of their return.
Irina approached the nord and offered her a small smile, "I've a feeling that they won't come back, you were right to step back when you did" the innkeeper was a slender woman with jet black hair, she wore a light blue dress with an apron at the front with a rag ready to clean the mess. Faida sighed and rubbed her temples, she glanced at the elf and nearly jumped.
Irina blinked in confusion at her reaction but then soon put two and two together before she hurriedly placed her finger to her lips. A silent plea to not announce the dragonborn's presence.
Faida swallowed down her shock and nodded, "Sorry... I just didn't expect you of all people coming here. Did ya need a room? I got one available."
The dovahkiin grinned and nodded appreciatively. Faida led the way with a swift turn of her heel, their footsteps matched one another and made gentle creaking noises against the wood.
"Let me know if you need anything, dragonborn. I will be just outside" she spoke with a hand over her chest. Irina ran a hand through her hair brushing light brown strands back, "thank you, I appreciate that." Faida shut the door on her way out, giving one last glance at the dovahkiin before she left to tend to the many people drinking their fill.
Irina found herself staring at the door even minutes after the woman left, the look in her eyes read something that Irina remembered seeing in Serana's eyes. A shiver ran down her neck at the memory.
The bosmer was tempted to go back out into the open and order a drink just for a chance to spark conversation with the woman. For a moment, for a night even. Irina would like to forget her many worries and allow herself to be touched again, It's been a few years too many since she last had any intimacy with anyone.
She had a husband who was good in the bedroom, yet, he wasn't here and she held no love for him.
Irina clicked her tongue and shook her head, there were more important things to worry about.
Such as Harkon's plan. The moment the prophecy was going to be deciphered, that's when Irina knew she'd ultimately have to choose again. To betray or stay faithful. It wouldn't be that difficult of a choice, she knew. Nevertheless, something along the way was going to be challenging she could feel it in her bones.
With a sigh Irina kicked off her boots and let herself drop onto the mattress, some rest will do her good.
Often times, Irina wondered what it would be like to live without a care in the world. For the most part, she lived as she would like. Murder, theft, lying, scheming... these were things that she did, one could catch her red-handed in the act and would have good reason to kill her.
However, those awful things about her aside Irina has done lots of good. Not that it washed out the bad, but she was a caring individual for the most part. Though, sometimes she wished she didn't have the foresight that she did. If she left the prophecy alone and watched as vampires slowly gained control of the land, Irina's heart would break at seeing the elderly die.
Her heart would weep for the mortal women who were to be raped by the power a vampire would have over her. Irina would rage and bring down the wrath of a dragon if she could, just the thought of the injustice was enough for the woman to tremble with rage.
A sigh and a shake of her head the woman used her arm to cover her eyes. Sometimes, very rarely, Irina wished she could simply let go of her kind heart and not have to bear the burden of wanting peace.
Her orange eyes stared at the wooden ceiling before ultimately closing themselves. She let herself fall into a dreamless sleep.
She woke up only a few hours later.
She tiredly rubbed her eyes and rose to sit up on the edge of the featherbed, a sense of purpose filled the woman and she hopped up to her feet. Then it hit her, a sudden wave of nausea and lightheadedness.
She made a sound of surprise and leaned against the wall to catch her breath. Why had she been out of breath? Irina rubbed her temples and made to stand on her own but was still feeling the effects of suddenly standing upright. The elf took in a deep breath through her nose and was taken aback when she smelled the salty air of the sea... she was nowhere near a port... What in oblivio-
A loud groan was heard coming from outside her room and Irina snapped back to the present, she made a sound of confusion when she heard the sound of a fist connecting with skin. A brawl, most likely. Irina quickly dismissed the noise and picked her boots from up off the floor before donning them.
A quiet sigh escaped the elf's lips, perhap the stress of her housecarl was finally getting to her. She hadn't the faintest idea.
As Irina tightened her sword belt around her waist she found herself humming to the tune of The Tale of Tongues. The bard was playing the song on his lute just outside her room, she always appreciated the song because of It's meaninful lyrics.
Judging by how lively the inn was, Irina could only assume that she had been asleep for just a few hours. Irina ran a hand through her hair sweeping it to the right side, it was time to commence the journey.
She supposed Markarth would be the safest bet, she'd already shown her face in Whiterun, no need to make a second appearance.
The moment Irina stepped out of her room a man, a dunmer had been sent flying in her direction. Irina cursed and braced herself to catch him, the dunmer landed in the dovahkiin's arms limp as a rag doll.
"Oh... how wonderful, he's dead" Irina muttered to no one in particular. Her eyes glanced upwards to see a redguard with their fist up in the air signaling victory, Irina sighed and shook her head. She was right, it was a brawl.
"I'm not... dead, you fool. Gods... who uses their legs when they're fighting?" the dunmer groaned in pain holding his stomach. Irina curiously glanced at the redguard before going back to the elf, "someone who clearly knows how to use their body was a weapon, can you stand?" the dunmer looked annoyed at the dovahkiin's praise and nodded his head, "aye I can stand, kind of..."
"Here, let me help."
Irina glanced toward the sound of the voice and there stood Faida, with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked undoubtedly annoyed, and the bosmer couldn't blame her. First someone throwing up in her inn and then a brawl. The nord knelt down to Irina's level and hoisted the man up from under his arms, "I got him... Did you need a drink or something to eat?"
She flashed a smile to the bosmer which made Irina stare for longer than what was necessary. Irina dumbly shook her head in a 'no' and Faida nodded in understanding, she turned her gaze to the dunmer in her arms before sighing "Here we go, come on... get up."
He dumbly staggered up to his feet and thanked the woman with a drunken slur. Irina watched him saunter back to the redguard and chuckled lightly in disbelief, Irina hoped they wouldn't cause any more trouble for Faida. The poor woman had had enough. Just as Irina made to leave the inn's warmth and comfort, she stopped herself and remembered that she was just going to Markarth by chance, there was no actual way of finding out that the moth priest was there.
Her orange eyes glanced back Faida and she could stop herself spoke, "Have you seen any imperial scholars passing by through here? I'm looking for them."
Faida gave a knowing hum before she nodded, "yeah... I'm pretty sure. He had some escorts, the soldiers stopped by to pick up a couple cases of ale for the road. If that's who you're looking for then they'd actually stopped by fifteen minutes ago, you might be able to catch them on foot if you hurry."
Irina's eyes perked up and she nodded excitedly, just her luck to find the man within the first day. The bosmer thanked Faida by taking ahold of her hands and giving them a firm squeeze, her hands were soft within Irina's. Faida merely replied with a flustered chuckle and sported a blush.
As Irina made her way out of the inn the nord waved her farewell.
The night sky of Skyrim was beautiful and Irina would have loved to stare at the stars by herself but she was in a rush now. Irina immediately crossed the bridge connecting one ravine to the next at a hurried pace, the road wouldn't fork another mile or so... Irina still had some time. She ran with grace and good form, her breathing was rhythmic and steady.
Cold air blew against her face as her pace began to quicken, her hair blown back and her arms swinging. A memory of her as a child running through the lush forest of Valenwood flashed in her mind, she was running from a few of the native-born creatures, they'd been chasing her for some reason she couldn't remember.
A smile graced Irina's lips at the memory.
Before any warm feelings could envolp her heart, Irina had abruptly stopped running in the face of a wrecked carriage.
Multiple bodies lay on the ground in cold blood, the bosmer widened her eyes in shock and tried to rationalize what could have happened. Clearly an ambush of sorts, from the looks of the corpses it had been from both Dawnguard and vampires. She looked over to the fallen volkihar vampires and scanned their faces, they were not familiar.
Irina didn't know if the fact that there were members to the clan that she wasn't aware of was a good thing or a bad thing.
Four bodies were imperial soldiers, they suffered lacerations across their faces and torsos. A sign of the Vampire Lord but she couldn't be certain.
"My, my, my..." Irina whistled looking at the carriage and dead horses. Every single person dead on the ground fought with ferocity. She could tell from out how chaotic the whole scene looked. The dragonborn sighed and scratched the back of her head, "now what...?" she mumbled to herself.
The corpses lying on the ground were either imperial soldiers, dawnguard or volkihar... not a single one of them was a scholar. The bosmer sighed and rubbed her temples feeling another wave of lightheadedness wash over her, since when did headaches start to become a consistent problem?
With an angry sigh the woman kicked the corpse of a Dawnguard scout sucessfully knocking the body over to its side. Irina nearly shouted with her thu'um in exasperation until she saw a small piece of parchment sticking out from the body. Finding it odd the woman calmed herself and snatched the paper from its dead owner.
It was stained with splotches of blood but Irina could see what was written on it clearly. Her eyes widened and she crushed the paper in her hands when she was finished reading.
She knew exactly where the moth priest was.