I checked the map and pointed at the road we were going to take. Eastmarch wasn't very populated; the majority of the land was taken up by a massive plain of hard, dry ground, broken by volcanic pools and geysers. It was popular for travelers who liked to bathe in the heated water. Sadly, its largest city was an eyesore in more than appearance.

My plan was to stop in Kynesgrove: a small mining settlement about an hour's walk outside the walls of Windhelm. That way, we could avoid entering the city, and detour to another inn farther down the road.

The discussion of why I was avoiding the city lasted throughout most of the day.

Windhelm was a city of black stone; icy and snow encrusted, and ruled by a Jarl notorious for his views of Nord superiority. In fact, he was so infamous for his nationalistic views that the sarcastic phrase 'warm as Windhelm,' was gaining popularity among non-Nord inhabitants of Skyrim. If it weren't for his raging hatred of the Thalmor, one could say that the Jarl Ulfric and the high elves were very nearly twins in their attitudes.

Serana got to learn about the White Gold Concordat, and how it forbade the worship of Talos. She got to hear more about the high elves, and their hostilities toward humans. She learned how no one had particularly cared about Talos worship despite the concordat. Then Ulfric started making rallying cries about a Nord's right to worship how they pleased. She got to hear how his behavior had finally forced the Empire to help the elves jail, torture, and even execute those who continued to worship. By the time we got to Kynesgrove, she solemnly agreed that avoiding Ulfric's city was for the best.

We stopped at the Nightgate Inn, a few hour's walk out of our way, before doubling back early the following morning. The long, icy road to Winterhold had no other stopping points, and we had to get an early start.

The roads turned out to be sound, though the Three Hold Storm had dumped a considerable amount of snow. I felt as though we were walking through miniature canyons, as walls of fallen snow and ice soon loomed over our heads. The hold guards had spent considerable time and effort opening up the main road. Still, the route was long, and we ended up arriving after sundown despite our best efforts.

The only inn in Winterhold was aptly named The Frozen Hearth. Very inviting sounding place. There was a huge taproom with a long fireplace in the center, and the counter was situated farthest from the door. Several wooden tables were scattered around, all occupied by the city's dour-faced citizens. These were too focused on eating and knocking back tankards of mead to notice us coming among them. The place had three rooms, only one of which was available for now. I paid for the room, which was, thankfully, also situated well away from the door. We could enjoy the heat thrown out by the fireplace in the middle of the room.

Dagur, the innkeeper, handed me an iron kettle and a small metal shovel with a wink. "I know you Redguards have a bit of a thing about the cold," he told me kindly. "Take some coals from the fire, and grab a few split pieces of firewood from our pile. The inn is made so the smoke will vent, but you'll be able to warm your room sufficiently with the pot."

I pressed a few more coins into his hand for his consideration and blessed him to the best meals Sovngarde had to offer when his time came.

The room was simple enough: containing a bed, a dresser, and a chest. It would serve for our, hopefully, brief stay. Serana set up her bedroll on the far side of the room, once again declining to take half the bed.

The next day, we were allowed into the college on the promise that we simply needed information and were not there to cause trouble.

In the college Arcaneum, I found myself confronted by a large, bulky old orc. "I am Urag Gro-Shub," the orc growled around a mouth full of tusks, "and you are now in the Arcanaeum, of which I am in charge. You might as well call it my own little plane of Oblivion. Disrupt my Arcaneum, and I will have you torn apart by angry Atronachs. Now, is there anything I can help you with?"

"Er… nice to meet you too, sir," I replied, caught somewhere between sarcasm and wary respect for the power required to summon the elemental beings. "I only have a request for information. We're looking for a Moth Priest, and I suspect one came through here."

"A Moth Priest? What in Oblivion do you need a Moth Priest for?" His nose crinkled at me.

I scowled back at him, "My business is my own. Can you tell me where to find him or not?"

This seemed to amuse him, as his scowling face transformed into something a little more relaxed. "Your little human teeth are not large enough to impress me with that expression, human." I opened my mouth to retort, but he waved his hand, "Fine, fine. No need to get your breeches in a twist. The obvious answer is to go to the Imperial City. The Moth Priests make their home in the White Gold Tower. Sometimes they go out looking for Elder Scrolls. Lucky for you, there's a Moth Priest in Skyrim right now, doing just that. He stopped in to do some research in the library, then left for Dragon Bridge. If you hurry, you might catch him there."

I let out a heavy breath, "Thank you, sir."

"No 'sir.' Just Urag is fine. I have no interest in formalities. If you want to impress me, treat my books with the proper respect. Now get going, if you want to catch up with them." He waved a hand dismissively at me.

.

Arriving in Dragon Bridge late in the evening, four days later, I wearily caught a guard's attention. "Do you know anything about a Moth Priest visiting Dragon Bridge?"

"Ah, so that was a Moth Priest, then? He rode through town not long ago with an escort of soldiers. They didn't stop, just headed south across the Dragon Bridge." I thanked him profusely, pressed a few coins into his hand for the information, and led Serana beyond the town's edge.

We found the carriage, just around the corner and out of the line of sight from the town. The carriage was tipped on its side, the horse was dead, and the body of a soldier lay near the body of a vampire. An ambush, and only barely far enough away for the screams of the dying to go unheard over the rush of the river. These bloodsuckers were bold.

Searching the scene, I found a note on the dead vampire's body;

.

I have new orders for you.

Prepare an ambush just south of the Dragon Bridge. Take the Moth Priest to Forebears' Holdout for safe keeping until I can break his will.

- Malkus

I shared a look of horror with my companion. The bodies were only half a day old, and we knew we couldn't delay for rest yet. I sighed. This was one of the more… not-so-glamorous parts of the job; coming to a scene of death too late to help anyone. Worse was knowing that if I wanted to avoid more death, I would have to keep going, regardless of how tired I was.

We followed a series of bloodstains along the ground, occasionally finding the body of yet another soldier who had lost their life while trying to protect the Moth Priest.

Another attacked cart lay overturned across a bridge. Two unlucky travelers had gotten dragged into the desperate battle, and had been killed. The blood spatters continued until we found the final corpse of a soldier. He was so recently dead that the blood hadn't gone tacky yet.

Nearby was the entrance to what could only be Forebears' Holdout. Five columns of stone led up to the entrance, which looked like nothing more than a wide crack in the stone cliff.

Inside the cave, we found what looked like a dilapidated stone fort, patrolled by a couple of death hounds, and several vampires. A glowing aqua dome of magical energy formed within the courtyard of the fort, visible even over its stone walls. Nothing good would have come from charging in to stop whatever ritual was happening. I carefully counted the patrolling enemies, determined not to go the way of Tolan.

"Are you ready for this?" I whispered, "These will probably be vampires that you know, or knew."

Serana nodded, a small smile of gratitude on her face. "Maybe I knew a few of them long ago, but we were never friends, and they won't be my friends now, after so long."

My companion didn't hesitate to put down several vampires on her own with gouts of flame. I used my bow to pick off the death hounds and several vampires that were too far away for short-range weapons.

Serana engaged with a more experienced vampire, who led her on a deadly game of hide and seek amidst the half-crumbled parts of the fort. She paused only long enough to shout, "I've got her! Stop Malkus!" Flame, frost, and shock spells darted back and forth between the two.

I prayed that Serana could handle her opponent, and hurried through an arch toward the glowing aqua light.

Malkus, the orc vampire who had authored that note, was too busy to pay attention to the shouting and flying spells. His attention seemed to be centered on trying to enthrall the imprisoned priest. The swirling aqua-colored light had formed a shield around him, trapping him in what I could only guess was some sort of amplifier for the Vampire Seduction spell. Even as I watched, the figure wavered, then sank to his hands and knees.

"The more you fight me, the more you will suffer, mortal," Malkus sneered, as I crept toward him.

"I will resist you, monster. I must!" The old man's voice cracked with the strain.

"How much longer can you keep this up, Moth Priest? Your mind was strong, but you're exhausted from the struggle." Malkus chuckled in dark satisfaction; "I can feel your defenses crumbling. You want it to end. You want to give in to me. Acknowledge me as your master, and it will all be over."

I swung Dawnbreaker at Malkus' back.

It was too shallow to be immediately fatal, as the hardened leather armor protected him from a proper blow. Even so, the vampire screamed in pain and rage as the holy blade carved a slice up his back. His infected flesh suffered from a brief burst of fire, burning his pale green skin.

A blast of Frost magic knocked me back and caused the flames to gutter out before too much damage had been wrought. Ice and snow flew in a circular storm around Malkus, whipping stinging wind into my eyes. His right hand clutched a glowing core of magic as he maintained his spell.

"Well, well, well," the Orismer snarled, as I struggled to get back to my feet, even as the ground beneath me began to ice over. "We've got ourselves a hero here! You've made a big mistake, little human. Cold doesn't affect us Volkihar vampires much, but it has the delightful effect of slowing your kind down."

He closed in, and I lashed out with the point of my blade. He stepped back, warily, but continued to smirk as I tried to steady myself enough to get to my feet. My armor fit well enough that it didn't whip or tug in the wind, but my hair was doing a lively dance and my face stung from the cold as I was pelted with bits of ice. My boots skidded on the floor, which was now slick, and nearly impossible to maintain my footing.

"Say goodnight, little warrior," his right hand maintained the ice storm spell, even as red light flared in his left. I felt my life force draining away, rapidly weakening my already weary body. I fumbled back, grabbed my bow, and drew an arrow, my arms shaking with the effort to aim.

There was a crackle and a wet squelching noise. The icy storm and life-draining spell faltered. Blood sprayed as a spike of ice erupted through Malkus' chest from behind.

The orc gave a breathless wheeze and slumped, his expression fixed in an expression of shock and uncomprehending pain. He groped for the point of ice that had punched through his rib cage. I dropped the bow, grabbed Dawnbreaker, and gave a clumsy, upward sweep across the vampire's throat. It was another shallow blow, but this time the Orc couldn't summon frost to put it out, and his body went up in flames. A stone tumbled out of his ashen remains, glowing the same aqua-colored light as the spell that still engulfed the Moth Priest.

I sighed heavily in relief.

"Are you all right?" Serana hurried over to me, and I gratefully accepted her help in getting up.

"Fine, fine. I'm fine. Not my proudest moment; skidding around on a cave floor; but I think I'll survive a little lost dignity." I smiled gratefully at her.

The worried crease that had formed between her brows smoothed over.

I picked up the stone and limped to the back of the fort's courtyard, where a pedestal lit by a pair of braziers lay in wait.

The stone slid into a waiting slot with ease, and the whirling magic shield collapsed with a crackle, plunging the cave into silence.

Once the glowing field collapsed, I could see that the Moth Priest was an old man in pale gray robes. He gave a full-body shudder, then rose to his feet with an expression of fury. "My master may be dead, but I shall still serve his will. His enemies will pay!"

"Daedra curse it," I whispered, and ducked as the old man summoned a fireball and aimed it at my head. I had thought I had struck Malkus in time to prevent him from breaking through the priest's last defenses. Apparently not...

Serana retaliated with a bolt of shock magic. The old man immediately turned on her, and the two exchanged magical blows back and forth. Serana moved, forcing the old man to turn away from me.

A distraction! And a precious one. As soon as the old man's back was to me, Serana hit him with a shock spell that staggered him. I lunged out from behind the pedestal, and struck a glancing blow across his temple. It wasn't enough to knock him out, but it was enough to knock him down. He sprawled on the now defunct altar where he had been imprisoned.

I growled and rushed over to knock him out when he threw up a frantic hand, "Wait, stop! I yield!"

I skidded to a stop and stared down at him suspiciously.

"Please believe me. That... that wasn't me you were fighting. I could see through my eyes, but I could not control my actions. Thank you for breaking that foul vampire's hold over me," he looked up and met my eyes.

The rage was gone. Instead, his gaze was calm and clear.

"You're no longer enthralled?" I asked, wary. "Are you… all right?" I had never encountered someone who could simply be… knocked back to their senses. The Seduction spell was usually too powerful for that.

To my surprise, he smiled warmly and got back to his feet, "I'm quite alright, thanks to you. Dexion Evicus is my name. I'm a Moth Priest of the White Gold Tower. These vampires claimed they had some purpose in store for me, but they wouldn't say what. Probably hoping to ransom me, the fools."

I shook my head, "No, they didn't need money. I know why they needed you because we need you for the same purpose."

"You do? Alright then, enough mysteries. Honestly, as the years advance, I find myself with less and less patience for those who cannot give a simple answer to a straightforward question. Please, tell me, whom do you represent, and what do you want with me?"

"We're called the Dawnguard, and we need you to read an Elder Scroll." I was aware that Serana had made her way to my side, and was standing just behind my shoulder.

Dexion's face lit up, "You have an Elder Scroll? Remarkable! If my knowledge of history serves me, I recall that the Dawnguard was an ancient order of vampire hunters. I will be happy to assist you with your Elder Scroll. Where is your home base, hmmm?"

"We've set up at Fort Dawnguard, near Stendarr's Beacon," I unrolled my map and showed him the roads. We were quite a ways away from the Fort; nearly across the entirety of Skyrim. It would take several days of travel by foot.

The old man straightened with a smile, "Very well. I'll hurry on my way there before more of those vampires turn up."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not so sure parading off down the road alone is the best idea," I protested. "There's a lot of ground to cover, and it is chock full of bandits, wildlife, and roaming groups of vampires who still want to get their hands on you."

"Please," Serana interjected, "travel with us. At the very least, we can try to avoid having to come back here if another group attacks you."

Dexion blinked and then nodded. "Very well."

"Okay, I don't know about the rest of you, but I need a rest, and I need it soon. We can head back to Dragon Bridge and rent a couple of rooms for the night. Dexion, I'm sure you too could use a rest after having your mind battered by the vampire's spell." I was on the verge of swaying with exhaustion now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

"I'll admit I am rather weary," Dexion admitted. "Training to safely read an Elder Scroll for all your life gives your mind defenses against vampire powers. But today, I'll be the first to admit that this amplifier was too much, even for me."