It could not be said that he was the last living member of the Quarra clan, that statement was false on two points; the first point being that Volrina Quarra still existed, as did other members of the clan. The second point being that no member of Clan Quarra, once one of the most powerful and feared Vampire bloodlines in Vvardenfell and the Telvanni Peninsula, could in good conscience make claim to be truly living, not as mere mortals lived, or used the term. And it was the shortness of mortal lives, in combination with Jelkar's desire to remain hidden, that forced him to relocate every forty or so years, though he would occasionally grow tired of a place and leave well before that.
Jelkar had not yet tired of Heljarchen, though he felt that he was not so far away from doing so. Heljarchen was certainly not Druscashti, but it had been a good home for him the last five years. It was well situated, with a plethora of camps and mines within easy reach, and when men or women went missing from those camps or mines there were seldom inquiries, workers being plentiful and easily replaced. Any suspicion that vampires were responsible usually fell upon the Volkihar Clan as they rampaged across Skyrim.
There were many unaffiliated groups of vampires in Skyrim, and many of those only lacked a cause, and leadership, in order to coalesce into something stronger. Not as strong as Quarra had been in centuries past, but strong enough for Jelkar's purpose. It was one of those groups that Kjan was visiting now. Kjan was handsome, and personable, and exuded charm and power, and he was a natural emissary. Everyone liked Kjan, which accounted for a fair number of inhabitants in Skyrim that Kjan himself had turned into vampires, and recruited to Jelkar's cause; though Jelkar thought Kjan's tendency towards flamboyance a bit excessive.
It was only a short time later that Kjan's aforementioned tendency was placed on full display
Jelkar watched as a cauldron of bats approached before transforming into a man.
"Can you not simply travel as a mist cloud like a normal person?" Jelkar asked him.
"You have no sense of style," Kjan replied.
"I have a sense of modesty, which is more important when one wishes to remain anonymous, and hidden," Jelkar said.
"We will not have to hide much longer," Kjan said, "no thanks to these wretches. They will join us, though I doubt they will be of much use."
"Everyone has their uses," Jelkar said, "even those of us with no sense of style."
It was now Kjan's teeth on full display as he smiled, his laughter startling a flock of birds that were perched nearby.
"What of your trip to the north?" Jelkar asked his smiling cousin.
"She will not join us," Kjan answered, "she is committed to her Brotherhood. Do you know, she is over three hundred years old? She founded their Sanctuary in Falkreath."
Jelkar's eyebrows rose before he answered.
"I had no idea," he replied, "I knew she could not be as young as she looked, but I would never have thought she was that old."
"What should we do with her, now that she has declined?" Kjan asked.
"Nothing," Jelkar said, "leave her be. There are enough groups roaming the countryside searching for our kind. We do not need to add the Dark Brotherhood to that list."
"Agreed," Kjan said, "what would you have me do next?"
"Again, nothing," Jelkar said, "you have been out and about too much of late. Let the inhabitants of Skyrim forget you for a year or so. Signy will continue your work. And Bravos will search for a home that can accommodate our growing numbers, a home that has a sufficient layer of earth between us and the Sun."
"As you wish," Kjan answered with a courtly bow and a slight smile.
"Stop it," Jelkar said with his own smile to the man who was his closest relative, and his second in command; the man who had survived the Great Culling just as Jelkar had, and had been at Jelkar's side ever since as they evaded Aundae, and Berne, and Telvanni death squads as they fled Morrowind and wandered the more foreign lands of Tamriel.
"Age has made you petulant," Kjan said.
"Neither one of us has aged for hundreds of years," Jelkar reminded him.
"You know what I mean," Kjan said.
"Usually, though not always," Jelkar replied.
It was both their laughter that rang out over the nearby Skyrim wilderness, causing more startled birds to take flight.
Gwenyfe had read only half of the letter from her sister before the sounds coming from her mouth forced Sharn to intervene.
"What in the name of all the Gods combined can you be reading that produces such noise?"
"My sister Siubhán writes that she spoke to her friend Rigel Orionis and mentioned my letter to her. Rigel not only knows of Aric, she states that he is Thane of The Reach, and that she, Rigel, is his housecarl in Markath."
Sharn's mouth hung open for the length of time it took her to consider what she had just heard, and for her to use her fingers to count.
"He is Thane of no less than five holds in Skyrim," the Orsimer woman said as she looked at her friend, "can that be true?"
"There is more," Gwenyfe said before handing the letter to Sharn, who scanned the document quickly before coming to the paragraph that brought news that Sharn had not just heard.
"What does Champion of Dibella mean?"
"How much do you know of Dibella?"
"She is one of the eight, or rather nine, Divines recognized in Skyrim."
"She is the Goddess of beauty and love."
"I thought Mara was the Goddess of love."
"Mara is the Goddess of spiritual, or emotional, love. Dibella is the Goddess of physical love, Goddess of the art of love making. She has a grand temple in Markath."
"Goddess of the art of love making," Sharn said almost to herself before she addressed her friend, the familiar smile once again painting her face, "how is it that I am not familiar with her? She is just the sort of deity for me."
"This is not a matter for jokes," Gwenyfe said earnestly, "he is a Champion of Dibella. Dibella herself gifted to him a portion of her immortal essence. He carries Dibella herself within him."
"Is that why he is so beautiful?"
"No, Dibella only chooses those of great beauty to server her as her Priestesses."
"There are no Priests of Dibella?" Sharn asked as she began to build an erotic daydream of her and Aric, Champion of Dibella.
"Not that I know of. Siubhán might know more. She has lived in Markath proper for several years. But I know for fact that the Priestesses of Dibella are stunning, and Champions of Dibella even more so."
Both women were silent for the span of several breaths as each of them imagined experiencing the skills of Dibella's Champion first hand.
"Why do the two of you sit here in silent prayer?" Clesa asked as she entered their shared room, "and what is it that both of you pray for with such rapt expressions?"
"It is nothing," Sharn said to the Redguard Vigilant, "Gwenyfe's sister writes with news of the newest Companion."
"In addition to being Thane of Whiterun and The Pale, and most probably of Eastmarch and Haafingar, Aric is also Thane of Markath. My sister's friend is his housecarl there."
Clesa's eyebrows traveled upwards slightly at the news.
"I have met several Thanes in several holds. I cannot recall one that was not conceited, or self important, sedentary, and soft around the middle. This man who is Thane in almost every hold in Skyrim, in addition to being a powerful warrior, and healer, seems bent on redeeming all of his fellow Thanes single-handed."
"If that is his goal, he will achieve it in short order," Sharn said, "he ranges far and wide, and I cannot believe that his behavior in Windhelm is in any way different from his behavior in Markath."
"I have never met anyone who was able to endure the infinity of stairs in Markath without an overabundance of profanity," Gwenyfe said.
Clesa had never visited that city, and therefore had no idea why it was that Sharn and Gwenyfe laughed as much as they did.
"You are not offended?" Dyus asked.
"Soran frequently includes me in these sorts of missions," Urul replied, "He gives you the responsibility of command. My responsibility is to ensure that all of you return alive and, more or less, in one piece."
"More or less?" Anja asked.
The large Orc considered his words for several seconds before speaking. "If one of you were to return missing only an ear I would still feel that I had done my duty."
"Then my helm would not fit properly," Balan said even though none of them had ever seen him wear one.
"But you would have an easier time shaving your head," Anja said, her smile finally emerging as she looked at the Redguard warrior and his shining dome.
They were a mixed group, Imperial, Nord, Redguard, and Orsimer, though only two of them were full members of The Silver Hand. Balan and Anja were two of the six men and women that had been plucked from Krev's clutches by Hellina, courtesy of Dyus' request. They were not a pair in the romantic sense, but they had been recruited as a pair, and it had formed some sort of association between them. They trained together, they ate together. They were not siblings, though at times the Redguard man and the Nord woman acted as if they were. And they were not the only ones. Lyra and Salama had exchanged Krev's damp cave for a small wooden cottage near Dawnstar, and the Imperial woman and her Dunmer companion had formed a similar bond, as had Aenar and Langley.
Hellina had been surprised by Dyus' commission when she had returned, but her attention had quickly shifted to Soran's well being, and it was only afterwards, when she had sufficient time to observe the new Subaltern, that she saw clearly that Soran's opinion of the man had been correct, and that Dyus' opinion of the six men and women who had filled up all the open spaces in their dwellings had also been correct.
Urul was, once again, the only member of their party that had any experience in fighting vampires, though all of them had abundant recent experience fighting werebeasts and trolls. But werebeasts and trolls to not cast spells immobilizing their prey, and his experience in the subterranean castle convinced Urul that it was wise to take no chances. Every member of their party was equipped with at least one (and in some cases, two) item that would protect them from Illusion spells that caused fear, or Alteration spells that caused paralysis. And they had spent many hours training as a group in the days before beginning their journey towards Morthal, and the reported den of vampires a short distance north of that village. How each man or woman would perform in actual combat with such a dangerous enemy depended now on the gifts of the man or woman in question. Urul was much more comfortable with this group of four than he was with the last group.
Urul recognized Thane Aric immediately, and the Nord woman with the broad shoulders and narrow waist, both of which were encased in expensive glass armor. The tall, golden haired woman wearing equally expensive even armor standing with them was almost certainly the woman Vala had met in whiterun, Thane Aric's eldest daughter.
They were not the only warriors present. Including Urul's, officially Duys', group of warriors there were no fewer than twelve men and women assembled and prepared to enter the vampire's lair.
"This will not take as long as I thought," Balan said.
"It will take even less time than that if you are killed immediately," Urul replied, "do not become complacent. We do not know how many night walkers, or their pets, or thralls, are inside."
"Remember your training," Duys said as he looked at the assembled men and women, "none of them look like novices. That is reassuring at least."
"She is certainly no novice," Anja said quietly as the tall woman in elven armor approached them.
"Well met friends," she said before her eyes landed on the badge of rank that Dyus wore, "sir, do you answer the call of the Jarl of Hjaalmarch?"
"No lady, were were commissioned by The Vigilants of Stendarr to take up a task that they would themselves have performed if their number had not been so depleted recently."
She carried a beautiful staff that was capped with the head of a serpent, the mouth of which was dark and charred; which Urul recognized immediately as a staff that dealt fire, either in a steady stream, or in large balls that appeared more like lava than fire. Her sister had stopped at the midpoint between Dyus' group and their father, her right hand holding the glass sword whose blade rested on her right shoulder.
"Well, whatever brought you here, we are glad for your company, and your assistance," she answered just before her father called to her.
"Lucia, bring your friends and let us begin."
"What possessed you to do something so monumentally stupid?" Jelkar asked Movarth Piquine after Movarth had explained the recent developments in and around Morthal. "Did I not state plainly that you and your group were to remain hidden? Did I not state plainly that this condition was required of all of us? And did you not agree, when you and your group joined with me and my family, that you would follow my orders? It was you I spoke those words to, was it not, not merely someone who resembled you?"
Jelkar could see Signy's smile from where she stood behind Movarth, and as her eyes met Jelkar's he found it difficult to keep his face from smiling in turn and ruining the effect his anger was having on Movarth.
The former member of the Fighters Guild and vampire hunter, who had himself hunted and killed members of the Volkihar Clan, was bowed by Jelkar's anger, but not broken.
"We need hide from Harkon Volkihar no longer," Movarth replied, "in a short time Morthal will be mine, a village populated by either thralls or cattle. And once it is mine I will hand it in its entirety to you."
"It is not only Harkon Volkihar that should concern you." Jelkar answered, his anger growing. He had intended it as a threat, and Movarth took it as it was intended, but not quite the way Jelkar had meant it. Movarth's mistake was understandable given the circumstances. Jelkar had meant that he - Jelkar, was the threat to Movarth; but in that moment the unmistakable sounds of weapons clashing and men or, more specifically, members of Movarth's band of thralls and vampires, dying was clearly evident from the outer sections of Movarth's lair, clearly evident and approaching them with deliberate speed.
"It would seem that your plans for Morthal will yield nothing, and deliver nothing, Movarth." Signy said in almost a bored monotone as she looked out the doorway of the room the three vampires occupied and towards the sounds of battle.
"Whoever they are, we can defeat them." Movarth said as he retrieved his sword from a nearby side table.
"There is no we in this battle." Jelkar said. "You brought this upon yourself. You may deal with this yourself."
Jelkar's eyes met Signy's. She waited only for Jelkar to nod his head slightly before her physical form was replaced by a cloud of mist, a cloud that quickly retraced the path it had, in bipedal form, trodden a short time before.
Jelkar followed his cousin in quick order, passing over the violence that took up much of the large common room that was filled with many men and women, some of whom wore the armor of the Dawnguard. One man in particular wore armor of a design that Jelkar had never before seen which, given how long Jelkar had walked the towns and cities of Tamriel, was a true novelty.
Jelkar's last glimpse of the battle convinced him that he need not bother himself with visiting Movarth Piquine again.