Isran seated himself next to me the next morning, "Saw your notes from last night. Well done."

I grunted into my breakfast, having gotten approximately five hours of sleep.

The corner of his mouth moved in a way that suggested that a smile was trying to find its way onto his usually sour expression. In a tone that was almost affectionate, he said, "Well, when you've eaten and woken up a bit, I could use your help."

I grunted again, slightly affirmative, and took another spoonful of boiled oats, honey, sliced strawberries, and nuts. The man sat by my side, eating his breakfast in silence, and letting me come to awareness on my own.

After splashing my face with water and a few other morning wake-up rituals, we again faced one another across the map with the flags on it.

Isran sighed, "I know we need to do something about this. We just... we need help." His expression wavered again and he rubbed his face with his hand wearily. "If they have an Elder Scroll… well I don't know whether that makes our mission impossible, but we need all the help we can get. I have good people here, but... there are other people I've met and worked with over the years. We need their skills, and their talents, if we're going to survive this. If you can find them, we might have a chance."

I nodded briskly, "Then that's what I'm doing next. Where can I find these people?"

Isran smiled, approval in his gaze, "Right to the point, aren't you? I like that. Not like those fools in the Vigilants."

I scoffed, "I haven't survived a decade and a half of vampire hunting by dithering." I paused, then said, "Speaking of which, how are the Vigilants from the Beacon working out?"

"Only a shade less green than Agmaer, and he's a farm boy. And at least with him, I don't have to untrain a bunch of bad habits..." Isran growled in disgust. Then he blinked and looked more closely at me, "A decade and a… When did you start hunting vampires?" Isran's gaze roved over me with new respect, and not a little concern.

My eyes narrowed and my thoughts darkened, but I answered, "I was sixteen, and enthralled the night before I was to wed my wife. I've been hunting them ever since I watched her die at their hands."

Isran's hard expression softened a little and gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze before he continued. "You've lived this long, and you've done a lot of good, exterminating those bloodsuckers. Make no mistake, Lasirah; you've impressed me and earned my respect, and that's damned hard to do. I'm grateful you threw in with us."

We were silent for a moment, both lost in our own dark thoughts. Finally, he cleared his throat, let go of my shoulder, and paced, his hands tucked behind his back as he moved. "We should keep it small. Too many people, and we'll draw unwanted attention to ourselves. I think we'll want to start with Sorine Jurard. Breton girl, whip-smart, and good with tinkering. Fascination with the Dwemer. Weapons in particular. Last I knew, she was out in the Reach, convinced she was about to find the biggest dwarven ruins yet. Rest assured she'll stay in one spot for a good length of time."

He pointed to a spot on the map. I took careful note and made a tiny X on my map with charcoal. It could be rubbed clean later. "Dwemer tech, huh? Those Dwarves were masters of ingenuity, all right. If she can help us with our arsenal, we definitely want her. Do you think she'll help?"

I saw him hesitate, "She... might need a little convincing, but she should."

I could see the truth behind the hesitation. Apparently, separating from the Vigilants on poor terms was not a one-off thing.

I sighed mentally, preparing to have my work cut out for me. "Okay. Anyone else?"

Isran nodded curtly, "Gunmar. He's a big brute of a Nord, and hates vampires almost as much as I do. Got it into his head years back that his experience with animals would help. Trolls in particular, from what I hear."

"Trolls," I said flatly, scowling at the other Redguard, suspicious that he was laughing at my expense.

Isran spread his hands and shrugged, "Last I knew he was out scouring Skyrim for more beasts to tame."

"Yes, but… trolls? Trolls. Big, hairy yetis with three eyes and a real ugly taste for human flesh. Those things?"

The other Redguard's mouth quirked, as though hiding a smile at my disbelief. "Yes. Those things. They're carnivores, but it doesn't have to be human flesh they consume." He crossed his arms and tilted his bald head, eyes on some distant point in his memories. "Apparently, they don't like vampires very much, so he's having some success with them."

I blew out a breath and scowled, "If you're laughing at my expense..."

"No joke," Isran reassured me. "If you can bring the two of them back here, then we can get started on coming up with a plan. Gunmar is much closer to home; he's been hanging around Ivarstead, hunting bears." He pointed to a town only a day's travel away.

I glared.

Isran held up his hand to stop me from speaking, anticipating my next question, "No, I think he's sticking to taming trolls. This is more of an extermination job for him."

"Okay then," I let out my breath.

Isran handed me my pack, already well stocked with supplies. "I don't need to tell you to be as quick as you can, because I know you're well aware of the need to hurry. But I will say this: be careful. We've been recruiting, and the vampires are sure to take notice sooner or later, if they haven't already. I don't want you waylaid on the road."

I took my pack and nodded solemnly, "I'll do my damndest, Isran."

.

"You there! Traveler! Over here!"

I had left the canyon and passed through Riften, keeping a firm hand on my coin purse. I'd had to scoff my rejection at a con man who was trying to pressure me into buying 'Falmerblood Elixir.'

Now I was walking along the long road that would bring me to Ivarstead by the end of the day. The birch forest here was just starting to turn vibrant; the fall colors crowned the white trunks with oranges and reds, though green still peppered the branches here and there. The ground was littered with color as well. I felt like I was walking through a living sunset.

I had been thinking that Serana would have enjoyed this walk, when the imperious, slightly commanding voice rang out.

I jerked my head to the left and was surprised to see three people off the path. Two wore the hooded robes of mages, but one was wearing clothing like what Tolan had been wearing. Amulets of Stendarr hung about each of their necks, in plain sight.

A small hope fluttered in my chest. Vigilants, perhaps?

"Who calls?" They looked like Vigilants, but out in the woods, you don't go prancing off the path to answer just anybody's random call.

"We are the Vigilants of Stendarr," came the reply, "and we have found the site of a vampire attack. You are the only other person in the area. Come forward, so that we may know who you are."

I approached cautiously. I could imagine the unpleasant results from a blast of magic if I refused outright and raised their suspicions. I had no desire to be blamed for a vampire attack, and likely the fastest way to convince these people that I wasn't one of the undead was to let them see me. The lack of glowing eyes would be my best bet. That being said, I was still in the woods, and bandits were still a problem.

I stepped around a bush and caught a fleeting, but clear glimpse of the warrior priest's face. Instincts screamed before I could even process what I had seen and I was landing with a thud from my sideways lunge. There was a vicious crackle, and a bolt of Shock magic exploded where I had been standing.

Stendarr preserve me, I swore silently; that 'Vigilant' had glowing red eyes!

"Oh, I can smell your blood..." one of the mages purred. "Come out, come out, come out. You know we'll catch you, little human. You can't get away."

I looked around wildly, then scrambled behind a nearby fallen tree as another blast of shock magic hit the rock I had been hiding behind.

Dressed as Vigilants, using cover fire... These vampires are cunning little fetchers.

I peered cautiously over the log and saw that one mage was providing cover fire. The other two had separated and they were closing in on the rock I had left behind. The mage was closest to me, a shock spell primed in her hand, her back to me as she slunk toward my previous cover.

I drew my bow, notched an arrow, and dropped her. Her body hit the ground at the same time another bolt of shock energy hit the rock, foliage obscuring the fact that she wasn't moving. The remaining two were about to realize that I wasn't there anymore, so time was slim.

No time for pride. Second arrow: notch, draw, loose! The Vigilant dressed vampire spun in shock as the second vampire mage screamed in agony, clutching at the arrow embedded in her gut. Damn. Not a kill shot, but at least she has more to worry about than concentrating on casting magic.

I leaped over the log, drawing Dawnbreaker in a single move, and chopped viciously at the place where her neck met her shoulder. The blow halfway decapitated her. She gurgled, unable to scream again, as the holy blade set her on fire.

She dropped to the ground, the brittle grass around her catching alight as her flesh was consumed.

I turned and sneered at the last vampire, who had drawn a familiar-looking, ugly black blade. Damn, these vampires have daedric weapons too!

He snarled back at me, baring fangs and glaring. "You're a clever little mortal, but I am not so easily dispatched. In the end, you will bleed for me."

"Oh my," I mocked, "Witty repartee. Surely I've never heard that threat before."

He scowled, but still stalked cautiously closer, "Mortal fool, you can't stop us. The night already belongs to us, and when the Tyranny of the Sun is broken, it will not be able to protect you anymore."

The words sent an icy chill down my spine, though I faked intense boredom, "Blah, blah, blah." I held up Dawnbreaker, and the sunstone blazed, making the vampire rear back in pain. I smirked in triumph, "Looks like the sun is still a tyrant to you, for now, bloodsucker."

The mages had been quick kills. At a glance, I'd have said they were fledglings; new vampires. They had been good at magic, but vulnerable to a would-be victim that didn't cower in place.

This is the leader of the group, and the brains. My eyes narrowed icily at him, "You want my blood? Let's dance for it."

A lazy smirk slid across his face, far too familiar in its shape. Harkon. I realized. This is a Volkihar vampire. Even as the Vigilants stalk the land… so too, do Harkon's minions.

"Dance? Why my dear, I have three centuries of 'dancing' lessons under my belt. Would you like to see my skills? I'm certain we can have fun." He made a rude grabbing gesture at crotch level as he sneered into my eyes.

Ugh. Vampire men. Definitely not the cream of society.

"With such a delightful dancing partner, how can I refuse?" I smirked back at him, then closed in.

The fight was brutal, but telling; the vampire had, in fact, taken dancing lessons for three centuries. He moved with grace and poise, but his fighting skills were somewhat lacking. All that time to learn real fighting, and instead he fought more with flash and show than deadly efficiency. It was like fighting a spoiled nobleman who fenced, rather than a seasoned warrior.

He scored several shallow wounds, but relied far too heavily on his ability to drain a person with that damnable red magic. Unfortunately for him, I gave him very few opportunities to do so. Magic needed distance and concentration, so of course, I kept close and harried him. With no way to drain my strength, and not enough experience with a blade in a real fighting situation, he was no match for me. In the end, Dawnbreaker's powers consumed him from within as it plunged straight through his chest.

Panting, I stomped on the cinders of the small fire that had lit, then thankfully guttered out, around the body of the other vampire mage. One body with an arrow through the head, and two neat little piles of blue and white ash nestled amid the black char of burned foliage.

I made sure that no one else was around, and that I wasn't going to spark a forest fire that the people of Riften would have to contend with. Once satisfied, I sat down and began healing my various injuries. A few more scars to impress the Nords? I wondered, then laughed to myself. Nah.

Scars were favored in Nord society as a sign that you had fought and survived. A decent mindset, and I had some scars on my right cheek where my former vampire 'master' had cut me with his dagger. I had chosen to keep those. But I was also a vampire hunter, and some scars would pull and hitch; hindering my ability to fight.

Eventually, the pain was healed away, and my breath came easily once more. I pulled a pouch from my pack, as well as a hand trowel, and shoveled up as much of the blue-white ash from the vampires as I could.

Vampire ash, or 'vampire dust' as the Alchemists politely called it, was a key ingredient in potions that cured all manner of diseases, including the early stages of Sanguinare Vampiris. Disgusting to think about when you realize that you have to mix it with other ingredients and then drink it, but also invaluable in my work. You learn not to ask about specific ingredients after a while.

After a little more investigation, I found the three stripped bodies of humans. That would be where the vampires had gotten their clothes and amulets.

The Vigilants had… not died well. It was like Tolan all over again; brutal signs of feeding and a multitude of wounds and bruises said the vampires had overpowered them despite their struggles. I murmured a prayer to Akatosh over them, then sighed sadly. Isran was right; they were foolishly unprepared for the dangers of vampire slaying.

There was little I could do but continue.

.

Hours later the angry growls of a bear, and the shouts of a man, made me break into a run. A burly-looking Nord was wielding a war axe against a large, brown bear. Before I could draw my bow and get a bead on the beast, the Nord swung the axe with a roar and buried it in the beast's head.

I whistled softly and clapped, impressed. Bear skulls were well known for being hard to crack; the fact that he had sunk an axe into it said a lot for his strength.

The man looked up sharply at my whistle, then smiled, "Impressed, I take it?"

"Very," I allowed, putting my bow away before clasping his arm warmly, "Lasirah, Warden of Dawn. Might you be Gunmar?"

"I am," he clasped my arm with welcome in his eyes.

"Excellent. I'm here at the request of Isran. I'm afraid we need your help."

Gunmar's expression drained of warmth, "Isran? Needing someone else's help? Never thought I'd hear that. I'm afraid he's a few years too late. I've moved on, and I have more important business to attend to. Besides, he can handle anything alone! He assured me so himself."

"Things have spiraled out of control, I'm afraid," I said.

"Hmph. Well, that's not my problem," Gunmar's voice was coldly dismissive. He shook out his shoulders, wrenched his axe from the bear's skull with a wet crunching noise, and checked the blade for damage. "My problem is that I've been tracking a vicious bear for two weeks. It's developed a real taste for people, and I need to kill it before it claims the lives of any more victims."

My mouth fell open, "Wait, another bear? Not this one?"

Gunmar's expression softened at my genuine concern, "That's right. The bear I'm after has holed up in Honeystrand Cave." He led me over to a small ridge and gestured down a slope that led into a depression in the earth. At the bottom, a cave entrance could be seen in the stone face of the mountain.

"Bears aren't my usual prey, but..." I drew my bow and nodded to Gunmar, "Let's both take care of this."

The Nord gave me a respectful, appraising look, "No hesitation? Just jump right in? That's pretty Nord of you."

"No need to be insulting!" I stuck my tongue out at him, earning a laugh. "I'm no Nord, as you can tell. But… I started my life's work to protect people. As I see it, it's my duty to kill anything that threatens human lives."

Gunmar's expression broke into a smile again. "I'll tell you what: I can't leave this bear to prey on more innocent people, and I'm starting to think it would be unwise to go after it alone. Once it's dealt with, then I'll at least listen to the story of why Isran has sent someone to recruit me after all this time."

"Fair deal."

We slipped through the entrance, creeping soundlessly along the narrow tunnel that soon opened out into a cave. The huffing growl of a bear drew my eyes upward. A broad ridge along the back wall of the cave flattened to a shelf of rock wide enough for a bear to be pacing around on. Lower, almost lost in the shadows, a much larger brown bear hunched over something bloody and badly mangled that I couldn't identify in the shadows. I wasn't sure I wanted to identify it.

"That's the one," Gunmar all but breathed in my ear. "The big she-bear that's eating. The bear I killed and the one pacing around might be her grown cubs. We'd better kill them both, as we don't want a generation of man-eating bears to start breeding. They're bad enough when they only attack when provoked."

I nodded, took aim with my bow, and shot the smaller bear. The bear made a yelp of surprise and pain, then bellowed in rage. The big female looked up, just in time to get a sweeping cut to her face by Gunmar's axe. It took several arrows to down the smaller bear, and then I drew Dawnbreaker and leaped into battle with Gunmar.

The she-bear was enraged, and battered the Nord's armored torso with her claws. The holy blade was only an ordinary sword against a normal animal, but it worked well enough to distract her when I sank it into her hind leg. The two of us worked in tandem; hacking and slashing until the beast finally collapsed to the sandy floor of the cave. Gunmar finished her off with a powerful blow to the skull.

I was luckier than the Nord, coming away with a graze from the bear's claws and a bruise or two. Gunmar's torso was mottled with bruising, and was bleeding from a bite and a score of claw marks. I made him drink a spare potion of Cure Disease, just in case she had been carrying something. Then I set about dressing his injuries with some of my weaker potions.

"Leave the scars," he ordered, a note of pride in his eyes, "They're badges of honor for my fight against a man-eating bear."

Obliging, I wrapped up all his wounds, but held off on the potions to give him an impressive set of scars for the ladies.

"Thank you for the help, Lasirah. I'll admit it; I don't know how well I'd have managed by myself. You have my thanks. You've helped me, so I suppose the least I can do is find out what Isran wants. Tell me the whole story."

"We've got a vampire problem: it's big enough to have wiped out the Hall of the Vigilants," I explained. "They've also gotten their hands on an Elder Scroll."

The Nord whistled softly, "That... Well, that changes things. But you look like you have more to say on the matter. What else is there to the story?"

"On my way here, I fought some vampires who claimed that they had a way to… defeat the 'Tyranny of the Sun.' I don't know what that means in detail, but they seem to think that they'll be able to stop being affected by daylight."

Gunmar paled, "By the Eight... All right, you've convinced me. Tell me, has he finally made his way to that fort near Stendarr's Beacon?"

"Fort Dawnguard? Yeah." I nodded.

The Nord smirked, "Of course he did. He's been harping on getting that place stocked and manned for years now. If Isran is anything, he's stubborn. It's no surprise he's recruited some followers and gotten his own little dream fortress under his thumb. Well, I guess I'll get to see what he's been up to all this time. I'll prepare the furs, gather up some teeth and claws, and meet you there."

.

It took a week of hunting through the wilderness before I found Sorine's camp. She was muttering over a Dwemer contraption, and grousing about mudcrabs stealing her gyros. It took approximately two minutes of looking to find her pack, set down and then forgotten at the edge of a nearby river.

Huh boy. I'm dealing with a forgetful eccentric, I rolled my eyes. This is going to be fun.

Handing the pack to her, I tried getting straight to the point, "Isran sent me to find you. He needs your help."

Sorine was fiddling with the technology using a set of tools in her hand. There was a soft sproing noise, and the convector's lid popped open, unleashing a tiny, coiled piece of metal that plinked against my chest armor. I raised a mildly annoyed eyebrow at her, and she finally looked up.

Her expression wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy. "Isran? Wants me? No, you must be mistaken. He made it exceedingly clear the last time we spoke that he had no interest in my help. I find it hard to believe he's changed his mind. He said some very hurtful things to me before I left. Anyway, I'm quite happy with my current pursuits. So if you'll excuse me."

She scooped up the coiled piece of metal out of the dirt at my feet and set about trying to fiddle it back into the Dwemer tech.

"We've got some vampire problems," I prodded. "They're brazenly attacking people."

"Vampires? Really?" a sarcastic smirk curled her lip. "Oh, and I suppose now he remembers that I proposed no less than three different scenarios that involved vampires overrunning the population. Well, what are they up to besides the usual life-sucking ventures?"

"Isran is concerned-" I started, but she waved her hand dismissively.

"In case you haven't noticed, Isran is always concerned about something." Sorine scoffed, "That's what got us working together in the first place. What drove us apart were his methods. And sorry to break your heart, but I'm not going to abandon what I've been working on here. It's too useful."

There was another sproing noise, and I jerked my head to the side as the coiled metal piece went flying past my head.

"Damn," the Breton muttered in annoyance, not even looking up at me. "Well, I'm less concerned about the convector panel opening at the push of a button than I am about the internal synchronization of..."

And that's where I lost track of her muttering weird words to the metal doohickey in her lap. I grimaced at the top of her head as she bent over to peer into the convector she was fiddling with.

"As I was trying to say," I said firmly, "Isran is concerned because the vampires have gotten their hands on an Elder Scroll."

Her head snapped up, forgetting about the thingamabob whizz batting in conjunction with the whatchamacallit; choosing instead to stare at me in appalled alarm. "I... Well... In all the scenarios I imagined, this never came up in any of them. Interesting. I'm not sure what they would do with an Elder Scroll, but in this case, Isran is probably correct in thinking it isn't good. All right. If nothing else, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to learn more about what's going on so I can better defend myself."

I let out a sigh of relief, "He's in Fort Dawnguard."

"Ah. He finally went in to work on his secret hideout, has he? It'll be interesting to see how much progress he's made." She twisted a tool, and some component in the Dwemer tech popped free into her waiting hand, "Right. Let's go."

Returning to Dayspring Canyon, I was in such a distracted state with my thoughts that I nearly collided with the nervous young man loitering at the entrance.

He was barely an adult; a blonde Nord wearing farmer's clothes and leather bracers on his wrists as his only armor. His chin had a few sparse blond hairs, and I pegged him as somewhere between eighteen and twenty-one by his shy, young voice.

"Oh, hey there! Are you here to join the Dawnguard, too?" he asked, but nerves had him babbling on before I could respond. "Truth is, I'm a little nervous. I've never done anything like this before. I hope you don't mind if I walk up with you?"

I smiled reassuringly at him, "I don't mind. But no, I'm not here to join; I'm already a full-fledged member."

He immediately flushed, "Oh... I see… Hey, uh, please don't tell Isran I was afraid to meet him by myself. Not the best first impression for a new vampire hunter, I guess."

"It's perfectly fine, mister…"

He blushed again, "A-Agmaer, miss."

"I'm Lasirah, Warden of Dawn. It's good to meet you. What brings you to join us today?" I clasped his forearm warmly before we turned to walk along the path to the fort.

"I've heard the rumors around Skyrim. I know something's going on. And I've seen the vampire bodies after the guards fought them off. I felt I had two choices: I could either live in fear of the night, or I could do something to help protect my people."

At my reassuring nod, Agmaer continued. "Isran's men have been visiting all the cities and towns, inviting recruits to join. So here I am." He paused and then said, "You've probably killed lots of vampires, huh? Not sure he'll take me. I hope so."

We came to a stop at a newly erected wooden wall, sealed by a sturdy gate. Fort Dawnguard loomed beyond it.

Agmaer paused and gazed up at the towering gray stone edifice beyond the gate. "So… that must be it. Fort Dawnguard... Wow. Bigger than I expected. Where is everybody? This place looks almost deserted."

"Appearances can be deceiving," I said with a smile, then raised my voice. "Hey Celann, are you on guard duty or butt-warming duty by the fire?"

Agmaer jumped when the figure of the Breton vampire hunter seemed to melt out of the shadows at the top of the gate. "Guard duty, you mouthy Redguard witch," he sniped back, and then laughed heartily. "Get in here! Isran's been getting antsy about how long you were taking. Been harping like a mother hen whose chick got lost."

The gate creaked open and my own chick followed in my wake as I led him past several campsites. I waved a greeting to several members on the way to the front door, and received welcoming calls in return.

"I… I guess this is it. Wish me luck." Agmaer took a steadying breath as I pushed one of the double doors open.

"You don't need it, son," I soothed. "Anyone willing to risk their lives fighting vampires is welcome here, even those who have never lifted a weapon before."

I found Isran perusing the map, where a few new flags had been set. His eyes rose to meet mine, and I saw relief wash through them before his face shifted back to its usual dour expression. "You're alive," he said gruffly. "Good. I was starting to think I had sent you off to your death. Not a good start to a fight with the damned bloodsuckers."

"Your heart is made of mush, Isran," I said with a small smile.

He fixed me with a scowl that curdled the blood of the poor recruit behind me. He made a meek sound in the back of his throat and tried to slide sideways to hide behind me.

Unfortunately for him, the movement attracted Isran's attention. He barked, "You there. Boy. Stop skulking in the shadows and step up here. What's your name?"

"I'm, uh... my name is Agmaer, sir," he squeaked.

Isran snorted, "Do I look like a 'sir' to you, boy? I'm not a soldier, and you're not joining the army."

"Yes, sir... uh, Isran."

"Didn't I tell you to step forward?" Agmaer came cautiously forward to face the stern vampire hunter. "Hmm... Farm boy, eh? What's your weapon?"

"Uh, my weapon? I mostly just use my pa's axe, when wolves are attacking the goats or something."

Isran laughed a little, "'My pa's axe,' Stendarr preserve us." Then his voice gentled a little, "Don't worry, I think we can make a Dawnguard out of you. Here, take this crossbow, and let's see how you shoot."

I watched with mild interest as Isran handed the boy a weapon that I had only ever seen schematics of.

"Uh, crossbow? I've never…" he fumbled a little as he took it, having no idea which end to hold.

"Yes, a crossbow. The best thing for killing vampires without getting yourself bitten and infected. Just take a few shots at those crates over there." Isran guided Agmaer into holding the weapon properly and pointed to a stack of crates against the wall. "Take this. It's called a bolt. You snap it in here, and squeeze here to fire it."

Agmaer squeezed the trigger, and staggered a little as the bolt burst out the far end and embedded itself with a thunk into the wood.

"Watch the recoil," Isran instructed. "It takes some getting used to. Place your legs like this. That's right. Now take a deep breath and let it out as you fire. That's it. You'll get the hang of it."

Once Agmaer got the rhythm down, Isran walked over to where I waited so we could talk while he kept an eye on the newbie. "So, you're back, which means we need to debrief. I bet you're hungry."

My stomach growled, and the other Redguard laughed, waving me to the kitchen to grab some food before returning to talk.

Isran started right in, so I answered him between bites. "So, any luck? Was Tolan right about the vampires being interested in Dimhollow Crypt?"

I grimaced and told him the whole trip from beginning to end. I told him about Tolan's death, and described the death hounds in detail. And the gargoyles. Isran looked discomfited by the idea that vampires were creating new monsters. I explained about the sick little mechanism that had revealed Serana, a vampire who happened to be the daughter of a vampire lord. I told him about us freeing Helskr, who should be arriving soon. I told him about the Elder Scroll and about Harkon and his castle.

Isran half leaped to his feet, both hands braced against the table. "They have a what?! And you didn't stop them? You didn't secure the scroll?"

"Isran," I met his eyes so there would be no doubt about the gravity of my words, "I am used to working alone. The upside is that it's easy for me to get on with killing without having to worry about companions stepping in front of an arrow or sword swing. But keep in mind that one of the downsides of this is that I'm limited in my ability to do certain things. Taking an Elder Scroll from a powerful vampire is a short path to an even shorter life."

Isran buried his face in his hands for a moment. "Right. Sorry for snapping at you. So they have this… Serana woman, and an Elder Scroll. They have everything they wanted, and we're left with nothing. I suppose you're lucky you're not dead. Or worse, one of them." He scowled down at his map.

"There's more."

"Of course, there's more," the man groaned. "Fine. Hit me with it."

"Serana and the vampire lord are… different… from other vampires." I explained how Serana and Harkon could almost pass as humans, and about Harkon's transformation into the winged horror.

"By the Divines, this couldn't get much worse. This is more than we can handle." Isran paced agitatedly in front of the fireplace.

I watched him for a moment then said, "Look, I left some of my books here when I left. They're stores of information about vampires. I need to rest from my trip, and I figured I could dig through them. I'm hoping that I can pinpoint possible weaknesses that we can exploit. The vampires are going to start getting stirred up as it is."

Isran nodded, "We found them. They're on the bookshelves over by the enchanting table."

Finding a chair to sit on next to the shelving, I pulled my old copy of Immortal Blood from the shelf and flipped it open. It was written by an anonymous author, detailing a young and living Movarth Piquine. Back then, he had been obsessed with hunting vampires and knowing everything he could glean about them. At the end of the book, the anonymous author confessed to Movarth that he was a vampire as well. Before Movarth could react, the author attacked him, turning him into the undead fiend that I had slain a few short weeks ago.

I drummed my fingers thoughtfully on the table, then began to scribble out notes.

The anonymous author detailed how the Volkihar Clan was paranoid and cruel. It was said that their very breath could freeze their victims' blood in their veins. I hadn't experienced this skill, but it was an interesting thing to note, especially with the death hounds having frost magic in their bite. Volkihar tended to make their lairs in, or very close to icy and remote bodies of water, such as lakes. Castle Volkihar was on an island surrounded by the ice-encrusted Sea of Ghosts, so that was relevant enough. They also tended to be isolationists; venturing into the world of men only to gather up thralls and victims who would not be missed if taken. Volkihar vampires also could reach through the ice of their lakes without breaking it. This created the nasty surprise of being grabbed from below without any warning.

The author of the book was a type of vampire from Cyrodiil, and had confessed that they were a powerful clan who had ousted all their competitors. They were experts at concealment. If they kept themselves well-fed, they were indistinguishable from living persons. Their vampiric qualities only became visible when they were starving. They were cultured; more civilized than the vampires of the provinces. They preferred to feed on victims while they were asleep and unaware. The author himself had confessed that he didn't know their true name, and that it had been lost in history.

Remembering Movarth's emaciated figure, I tried to imagine how he would have looked if he had succeeded in taking the town. A cold shiver went down my spine at the thought of an entire town of vampires that were almost impossible to identify, surrounded by loyal thralls. The town of Morthal had been lucky that I had been nosy enough to poke around in the ashes of a destroyed home, looking for clues.

I sat back and reviewed my notes. There was good information here, but not enough.

Fort Dawnguard had been built sometime around the Second Era, only a few thousand years after Serana's living days. Supposedly, it had been made for the sole purpose of containing the son of a Jarl, who had become a vampire. Then later, it served as the headquarters for the ancient faction of the original Dawnguard. If any place could contain manuscripts about vampire knowledge, this would be the place.

Isran was no fool; if he or the rest of the Dawnguard had found something, anything at all, they would have collected it for use. Anything and everything that could be a weapon, even knowledge, would be here. The only question was; what condition would they be in after thousands of years of neglect?

I poured over the rest of the books on the shelving, and finally found an ancient-looking book with a faded title: Noxiphilic Sanguivoria. My childhood lessons in Old Cyrodilic made it possible to translate the title; "Night Loving Blood Drinkers." Pretty damn eye-catching.

I had to handle the book with incredible gentleness to avoid making it crumble. It had been transcribed and re-transcribed over the ages. Perhaps one day soon I would have to see to it that the book was renewed and published yet again.

The book detailed an ancient strain of vampirism that did not weaken its victims to sunlight as in other strains of vampirism. They were, instead, strengthened during the nighttime hours. When the sun went down, they gained a very high tolerance to pain and had a powerful healing ability. In exchange had to drink blood to maintain their appearance.

Claims from captured vampires detailed that in order to contract the disease, one had to be bitten and exsanguinated by a vampire, and then receive the gift of their blood in return. There were mentions of a dreamlike passage of time and a ritual chamber where the bitten victim was bathed in a pool of black blood, and rose as a vampire.

I put down my quill and thought long and hard. Sanguinare Vampiris, translated, meant "to become a vampire through blood" which made sense, as people became infected by contact through bodily fluids, usually via a bite or a scratch, though there were... other ways of becoming infected too. It was the most recent strain in Skyrim, and there was a ten percent chance of becoming infected every time an injury from a vampire drew blood. They then had three days to buy a cure, be blessed by a priest, or pray at an altar. This was why Potions of Cure Disease were a necessary part of any vampire hunter's supplies.

The older strain was far less virulent and could not happen by accident, but Serana had more similarities with the older strain than the newer. If the ancient strain had been mutating around the time Serana had been infected, that would explain how she could wander around during the day.

But why the transformation into that… that bat-like monstrosity? What was missing? I was positive that Harkon's transformation was more than dramatic enough to have made it into the lore books on vampirism if anyone had seen it and lived to tell about it. I very firmly did NOT dwell on the possibility of being the only one to do so in millennia. Harkon and, by extension, Serana and her mother, appeared to be unique. I didn't know how this played into their particular strain, but perhaps time would tell.

Speaking of time… I fought a massive yawn and looked around.

Spotting a timepiece on the wall, I realized that I had been scratching notes for the better part of the night. If I wanted to function at all once the sun rose, I needed to get what little sleep I had left to me. I put the book away and found a bed to fall into.