Isran spun, suspicion on his face, and then scowled when he recognized the stranger. "Why are you here, Tolan? The Vigilants and I were finished long ago."

The man hurried to Isran, completely disregarding my presence, and I took him in at a glance. He was a balding, middle-aged Nord, wearing light armor that resembled the robes of a priest. Mutton chops graced the sides of his face; the only hair he had on his head. Beards were a thing of pride among both Nords and Redguards, so it was strange to see a Nord that decided to forego the tradition.

His gaze fixed on my fellow vampire hunter with desperation in his gaze, "You know why I'm here! The Vigilants of Stendarr are under attack everywhere! The vampires are much more dangerous than we believed."

"I warned you that was the case. You didn't listen." Isran sneered, "Keeper Carcette told me that Fort Dawnguard was a crumbling ruin, and not worth the expense and manpower to repair. Carcette called me a fool and told me to leave if I wanted to chase the dreams of a bygone age. She threw me out, Tolan!"

Tolan bowed his head, "I know, and I'm sorry that happened. But now…"

Isran's voice rose to cut him off, still stinging from his past treatment, "Now what, Tolan?! What did you expect? Didn't I tell you? Didn't I warn you this would happen? Look at your fellow Vigilants! They're so concerned with their holier-than-thou attitude, that they don't acknowledge how dangerous this task is! They might as well scream at the tops of their lungs, 'Here we are, monsters! We're oh-so-tasty! Come and get us!'"

Something in Tolan's face made me look sharply at him. When he spoke again, he was holding something back, "Isran, these vampires are different. I know you've disagreed with the Order in the past…"

Isran crossed his arms, his face stony, "Let me guess; Keeper Carcette decided to send out teams of Vigilants. Her plan, from the beginning, was to start slaying vampires on sight. Now that the Vigilants have stirred up the vampires, you've come begging for my protection?"

The Redguard's lip curled and his voice burned with disgust and flat-out dismissal. "And for some reason, I'm supposed to throw myself in front of you all and just offer it? Years of mocking, of dismissal, of being cast out of the Vigilants completely... and now here you are, begging for my help. Tell Carcette that if she wanted my help, she should have come here herself. I won't accept anything but an apology from her own lips, and a full admission that she was wrong, and stupid to boot."

Tolan's expression crumpled into despair, "Isran… Carcette is dead. The Hall of the Vigilants... everyone... they're all dead. The vampires came in force; lit the Hall on fire. Half of us went down beneath the fangs of their damned death hounds; the rest... were set upon by the Master Vampire and his lackeys. You were right, we were wrong. Isn't that enough for you?"

I felt my face freeze. Death hounds? What in Oblivion are death hounds? I thought, and felt horror begin to tighten in my chest. I don't like the sound of that!

Isran bowed his head, "Yes, well... I never wanted any of that to happen. I am... sorry, you know."

"It's not an apology I need, Isran; I need men. I need supplies! We need to exterminate these blood-suckers," the warrior priest growled. "They're planning on going to a place called Dimhollow Crypt. Brother Adalvald was sure it held some long-lost vampire artifact of some kind. They wanted his knowledge, and they took him, slaying everyone else. We have to stop them!" He strode over to the map spread out on the table and jabbed a finger at a location.

Peering at the map, I realized it was close to a tiny mining settlement called Stone Hills. Morthal was a stone's throw down the road. First Movarth, then this artifact. Morthal and its settlements were in a nasty area for vampire activity, it seemed.

Isran shook his head, censure on his face, "Tolan, for Stendarr's sake, look around. We don't have the means to wage a full-scale assault on the vampires yet. The Dawnguard is still training on the basics of handling our weapons. I knew we would need time; that we couldn't start poking the bear until we were more prepared. I warned Carcette that we needed to come here to train. To build. I knew that the war could not begin yet. I tried to warn everyone… but no one cared to listen."

I had been watching the exchange, my eyes bouncing back and forth between the two men as they spoke. I decided to butt in. "This looks like my next step, Isran," I pointed out. "Maybe I can go to this… Dimhollow Crypt."

Isran grimaced, "This was not the kind of task I had planned, and I don't like the idea of you going alone."

"I'm used to this kind of work," I reminded him.

"It does sound like it's the next logical choice… And I do need someone out in the field…" He heaved a deep sigh. "All right. While we're getting the fort back into shape, I want you to see what kind of artifact the vampires were looking for. With any luck, they'll still be there. With even more luck, you'll prevent them from getting a hold of it."

Tolan perked up, eyes burning into mine, "I'll meet you at Dimhollow. It's the least I can do to avenge my fallen comrades."

"Tolan, I don't think that's a good idea. You Vigilants were never trained for..." Isran started, but the Nord cut him off.

"I know what you think of us. You think we were soft… that we were cowards! You think our deaths proved our weakness. Stendarr grant that you do not have to face the same test and be found wanting!" The man raged at him.

Isran glared, "Don't be a damned fool, Tolan. I have never thought of any of you as cowards. What I do think is that you haven't trained to take on a threat much bigger than you expected. Your grief is still raw, and your mind is clouded with thoughts of revenge. That will get you killed as surely as the vampires themselves."

The Nord turned his back on Isran, "I'm going to Dimhollow Crypt, one way or another." His eyes met mine, desperate hope in them; "Perhaps I can assist you in some small way."

I hesitated, silently agreeing with Isran. This Tolan fellow was thinking more with his anger and grief than with his smarts. But I could also see that, short of throwing him in a cell, he was going to go charging into the wilderness. He was, after all, a Nord; they were renowned for stubbornness and an over-exuberance for battle.

I sighed and tried to shrug casually, "If you wish. I'm going to visit the Hall before I continue, though. I want to see if I can pick up anything from the wreckage."

Tolan waved a hand, as though to erase the idea from the very air, "There's nothing for you to learn there."

"Yes, there is," I glared into the man's eyes. "For one thing, I want to know what in the Sixteen Planes of Oblivion is a death hound?!"

Tolan blinked, "You've never encountered one?" He gave a full body shudder, "Then consider yourself blessed. They're nightmarish versions of a dog, twisted and mutated by some strain of Sanguinare Vampiris. Even their dead bodies are a horror."

"All the more reason for me to go to the Hall. If vampires are infecting other creatures besides humans, we need to know what to look for. What other kinds of experiments could the vampires be doing, in the darkened corners of the world?" I shared a concerned look with Isran, who blanched and nodded vigorously.

Infected dogs would be bad enough. Neither of us wanted to know what a bear or sabre cat would become if infected with Sanguinare Vampiris.

Undead. I thought in horror. Immortal. Always seeking blood. Normal animals are dangerous enough when they are only hunting for food and come upon a human by chance. What happens when their usual prey won't satisfy them and have no choice but to turn to humans? What happens when a single bite… a single scratch could infect the survivors of their attacks?

An outbreak, I knew. One that would be damn near impossible to stop.

"Well, fine." Tolan's voice softened for a moment. "But I won't be joining you at the Hall. I don't want to see my comrades like… like that."

"I understand," I agreed, but had to press on. "Tolan, I have another question, and it's important: are there other Vigilants still out there?" I hoped that I could redirect any surviving Vigilants to the Dawnguard.

Isran scowled, not liking the direction my question was going. I hastened on, "We need all the help we can get. We don't want to leave a bunch of disorganized, green wanderers roaming around, with no idea how to protect themselves."

Tolan sighed, "Of course there are. Most of us spend our lives as nomads, traveling from place to place in our endless war against evil." He shook his head in dismay, "I wish I could say how many we numbered, but only a privileged few knew that, and they're dead now. All I know is that there's Stendarr's Beacon; it's a little south of here. A small detachment of Vigilants is usually stationed there. It's… one of the last holdouts now that the Hall of the Vigilants has fallen." His face fell, and I could see a moment of melancholy sweeping over him as he realized exactly how dire his situation was.

I looked over at Isran, "See if you can get them to come here," I encouraged him. "At the very least, the Beacon can become a watchtower for us once they've trained up a bit."

Isran nodded at me, his eyes narrowed in thought, "You are a shrewd woman, Lasirah. As little as I like dealing with the Vigilants again, this is not the time for personal grudges to stand in the way."

"Is there ever a time?" I murmured rhetorically. "They're going to need leadership," I added. "More importantly, anyone that can perform Stendarr's Blessing will be invaluable to us. A few murmured words to cure vampiric infection when the potions run out..." I trailed off, knowing that Isran at least, would understand immediately.

Tolan gave himself a hard shake, his voice becoming harsh as he shot a burning glance at Isran, "Fine. I'm trusting you to help whoever you can find of the Order." He turned toward me, "As for you, well, you can poke around in ashes for hours if that suits you. I'll be at Dimhollow Crypt whenever you're ready to take action."

"Tolan, please," I begged, "I promise you, I am taking this very seriously. All I'm asking is that you give yourself time. Time to heal. Time to grieve. Time to clear your thoughts so you can fight the vampires with everything you've got."

"There will be time to honor the fallen later," he brushed off my words with a curt wave. "For now, we've got to put a stop to these vampires." The man stormed out of the fort and disappeared into the late morning sunlight.

"Damn fool," Isran muttered, then leveled a gaze on me. "None of them bothered to learn the fighting techniques necessary to combat vampires. Carcette herself felt that weapons and the blessing of Stendarr alone would be enough. It took a week of arguing before I got Carcette to understand the need for Potions of Cure Disease on every Vigilant. She felt that since her Order doubled as priests, Stendarr's Blessing would be all they needed."

I shook my head in dismay.

"Glad you understand. Blind faith is a blindfold, and I have always said that faith is but a single tool among many. A wise slayer should have a full arsenal."

"I've found both Meridia and Stendarr serve my needs." I gave him a small grin and patted Dawnbreaker's pommel. The holy sword was the greatest weapon I had.

Isran blinked at me, "You serve a Divine… and a Daedric Prince?"

"Meridia is Daedric, but that does not make her evil. A little overbearing, perhaps," I smirked, "but not evil. She stands for life, and against all undead. Meridia had me clear out her temple of a necromancer and his shades, and the reward was my blade. It's enchanted to be especially powerful for our line of work. And Stendarr… well, the Divine of Justice and Mercy is surprisingly useful as well."

Isran nodded his acceptance, "So you have a sword. And you have your bow, of course," he gave it a dry look, remembering how he had been on the business end of it mere hours ago. "Well and good. Follow me. Tolan may be willing to run into battle with nothing more than a war hammer and some magicked robes, but I want you outfitted in our finest. We don't have much, but we can prepare you with some armor. We can also give you plenty of traveling supplies." He led me outside, where I could see several people had already begun preparing the exterior with defenses.

He introduced me to the men and women, and they all paused to have a word with me. Many of them were like me: they had personal reasons to be hunting vampires. I heard many sad stories, and met many determined gazes. These were all people who had turned their grief into purpose. These people fought with strategy, and I could see that they trained themselves and honed their skills. I shook hands, clasped forearms, and made myself known to the men and women who would be my companions in the fight against vampires. It was good to meet so many people who were taking their cause so seriously.

Once I had made the rounds, Isran led me to a pile of crates.

At Isran's gesture, a young man named Celann took a pry bar to a few crates. "Specialized armor, once famous to the Dawnguard. With luck, we'll make it famous again. Help yourself."

I smiled and began suiting up. My armor had been of elven make; good and lightweight but golden in color in the way of elves, and a bit too shiny for my liking. The Dawnguard armor I chose was an earthly brown and would blend in better with the environment, especially at night. It was comparable in defense but less restricting for my movements. A sun sigil nestled at my throat to signify my membership with the Dawnguard, and I had no objection to that.