Advik felt someone prodding and shaking him in an attempt to wake him.
"Hey kid. Rides over, time to get up."
A brief pause followed but the attempt resumed, slightly more agitated when it was evident he wasn't getting up.
"Nap times over, come on get outta my carriage."
Still he was greeted with nothing but light snores.
"Wake the hell up!" The man yelled angrily, following up with a smack to the back of the head.
"Ow! What was that for?" Adivk whined sleepily rubbing the back of his head.
"Finally! You sleep like a troll in hibernation. If you didn't pay so well I'd have rolled you off into the street by now." The middle aged nord chided from the driver's seat. "We've arrived in Helgen, now get out."
"Yeah yeah, I'm going" Advik stood stretching before adjusting his hood and mask.
He stepped off of the carriage and took in the sight of the rebuilt town; paying no mind to the carriage that was now speeding off back toward the empire capital.
A huge wall surrounded the town it was protecting, hiding all behind it other than the tall guard towers that peered over it. All this made the place look more like a military fort than a civilian town.
Helgen, the first town on the border between Skyrim and Cyrodiil. Good to see it's not the bandit infested, scorched ruins it was the last time I was here.
He lifted his goggles to rub the last traces of drowsiness out of his eyes.
"Fossil could've been a little nicer."
He spared a glance back at the man, now barely a speck on the horizon.
"And trolls don't hibernate."
Now he returned his attention back to the fortified town. He made his way to the gate where two legion soldiers stood guard. Already seeing they were preparing to stop him, Advik eyed the contents of the guards pockets.
"Halt citizen."
The guard stepped in front of the gate holding up a hand.
"State your name and business in Skyrim."
Advik, unfazed, simply side-stepped the man while shooting off a remark.
"The names noneya, and your sister ordered a male escort."
"Why you little- stop right there."
The guard, taking offense to his intractable attitude, moved to stop him. But he was stopped in his tracks by the sound of jingling keys and the door unlocking.
"Nah I'm good, I've got better stuff to do."
Advik tossed the guards keyring back to him. The guard clumsily caught them, his mouth agape with shock and confusion.
"Thanks for letting me borrow your keys friend."
He grinned back at the dumbfounded soldier from behind his mask. as the gate closed behind him. Advik chuckled to himself as he strolled through the town.
That look on people's faces when they realize I swiped something right under their nose and they didn't even notice till I handed it back to them never gets old.
He took in his surroundings as he walked. It was around noon, the sun hung high in the sky with not a cloud to be seen. Thatch roofed wooden homes and businesses surrounded him, appearing as maintained as the day they were built. The occasional stone gate divided up sections of the town, lined with soldiers. Oddly the streets weren't much busier than the first time he'd been here, there weren't many people other than the patrols of soldiers scanning the perimeter. Though there was a distinct lack of Stormcloak prisoners, and there were the occasional groups of children playing.
It's all so much easier to take in when I'm not waiting in line for the chopping block among the empires most wanted.
After a couple hours of supply shopping Advik found himself in front of the local inn, a long cozy looking two story building, with a bag of supplies slung over his shoulder and his coin pouch only slightly lighter. A silver tongue has its benefits afterall. He was glad that this time he would be walking in through the front door rather than jumping through a flaming hole in the roof.
He pushed open the door and was immediately struck by the smell of mead and the merry sound of drunk off duty soldiers. He made his way over to the counter and laid down ten septims.
"Which one?"
The woman behind the counter scrutinized him suspiciously before gesturing towards the stairs in the corner behind him.
"Upstairs and first room on the right, It's yours for a day."
Without another word Advik nodded in thanks and headed for his room.
Can't blame her for being suspicious, my getup isn't the most friendly looking. If Isran could see me now, covered head to toe and armed to the teeth. He'd immediately assume I'm a vampire and waste no time getting rid of me.
He smiled to himself reminiscing about his time with the Dawnguard. His time with the dawnguard had been one of the best periods of his twenty-five year long life. Part of the reason for that was in no small way thanks to a certain vampiress. Advik realized where his thoughts had begun to drift to and snapped out of it.
"Haven't even been back in Skyrim half a day and you're already back to thinking about that," he scolded in a mutter.
He entered his room, making sure to lock the door behind him before unloading his gear. First he slung his bag into the empty corner by the door. Then, he went over to the desk in the back left corner across from the bed and laid down his many weapons.
A sword from his hip lay on the table next to its scabbard. The pale white blade stood out even among his vast collection of rare weapons, afterall it wasn't everyday you see a sword made from the bones of a dragon. Dovahzul Runes were etched into the bone blade. In the language of the dragons they read "Mir-mul-nir" or in common tongue "allegiance strong hunt". It was the name of the first dragon he ever killed and who's bones the sword was Forged from.
Next to that was a pile of daggers that came from the numerous hidden sheaths on his person. Nothing was too special about them, they were just plain steel daggers.
After all the knives were set aside he hung up the coat that concealed most of his armored body. It was custom made to suit his sense of style. It was a black leather coat that extended down to just above his boots. A single slit was placed on the back to facilitate movement during combat. On either side of the opening were pockets that were more a place for Advik's hands than somewhere to put his possessions. And at the shoulders was a hood that helped hide his face and protect from the weather.
Now came the specially made crossbow that was holstered on his hip opposite of Mirmulnir. It's different from the crossbows the Dawnguard use in their quest to wipe all vampires off the face of Tamriel. Those are roughly the size of a bow, weigh a ton, and require two hands. His was handheld, it wasn't big enough to use two hands if he wanted to. It still had some weight to it, but that's not really a problem when you're strong enough to lift a frost troll over your head. Though there is a trade off for these benefits. Due to its smaller size, the bolts don't get as much velocity, greatly shortening the range as well as decreasing the stopping power. As Advik removed his bolt quiver from his outer thigh just below the crossbow holster he was reminded of its other unfortunate drawback. Its smaller size once again being at fault, the mini crossbow also needed mini bolts. Meaning Advik had to make the bolts himself rather than the usual looting or simply buying them.
Next to be set down was a copper mask that covered the lower half of his face. Who's color nearly matched the tinted lens of the goggles that obscured the warrior's eyes.
Though the goggles lost their faint orange glow when Advik removed them, setting them on top of his mask.
And lastly on the furthest end of the desk he set down a sword from his back like no other. It wasn't contained within a scabbard like the bone blade. Instead this sword was wrapped tightly in a protective cloth that prevented any attempt of even looking upon the blade. This sword hasn't seen the outside of its cloth prison in years, and he hoped it never would have to again. Simply looking upon the blade brought back memories that made Advik shudder.
"Not even in death will you escape from me."
"I am the end of all things, no matter how desperately you try, you will be no exception."
The taunts of the devourer echoed in Advik's mind. But what haunted Advik to this very day were the final moments of the Dragon King.
"Zu'u unslaad! Zu'u nis oblaan!"
The souls of Sovenguarde heard a final, desperate plea to cling on to his wicked life, that they couldn't translate. While he knew what his last words really meant, the truth in them. It wasnt begging, it was a promise, one he couldnt let come true.
Advik shook his head, dismissing the thought.
"You're dead. And it doesn't matter what I have to do, I'll do everything in my power to make sure you stay that way."
Drained from an unrestful sleep he plopped down on his bed.
I hate carriage rides, can never actually get comfy. Though I suppose it's better than walking all the way here from the imperial city.
His mind drifted back to his earlier dream before he was woken up.
Been a while since I dreamt about back then. Being back in Skyrim must've triggered it. I should probably head for Riften sometime soon. Brynjolf's gonna strangle me if I keep putting off visiting. Then again, I know the guild's doing just fine. Afterall I just sent in a massive haul, they better not have spent it all already. Besides, if I go to Riften I'll have to stop by Fort Dawnguard. I don't think I'm ready to do that yet. I haven't even thought of what I'll say to her when I do. She might be mad, we've never been apart for more than a few weeks since I met her, let alone almost two years. And I don't know if I'll be able to-
He was broken out of his musings by a knock at the door followed by a young woman's voice.
"Excuse my interruption sir, I was sent to ask if you'd like something to eat."
His stomach rumbled at the mention of food. He hadn't eaten a decent meal since crossing the border.
"Yeah I'll be right down. Go ahead and put in the request for a beef stew please," he called out, reaching for his mask and goggles.
The sound of footsteps was already fading into the background as Advik examined himself in the mirror hanging on the back of the door.
He stood at around six foot five. His messy black hair hung at medium length. The light complexion of his face was already hidden away under his mask, his dark amber eyes hidden under tinted goggles. On his slim form he donned a near full set of dark copper armor with midnight black trim. Around his neck was an amulet made from the skull of a bone hawk with an amethyst embedded in the forehead. On his hands and feet he wore the Dawnguard's brown fur boots and gloves.
He returned down stairs and immediately when he sat down at the inn's bar he finally took notice of how uneasy the townsfolk seemed. Their eyes constantly shifted around the room, watching even the subtlest movements of the people around them as if everyone could be out to get them.
"So who died?" He nonchalantly asked the bartender as she delivered his steamy stew.
"Huh? What do you mean?" The tall blonde woman confusedly inquired.
"Everyone here who isn't blackout drunk looks super paranoid. Like they think someone's gonna get them if they don't stop to look over their shoulder every few seconds."
"Oh that? It's nothing. Just a bunch of nuts spreading rumors that's putting everyone on edge," she waved dismissively.
"What, do they think Alduin's hiding under their bed, waiting to gobble them up if they're not good little boys and girls?"
"No nothing quite that severe," she giggled
She nervously glanced around the room. Then she leaned in with a hushed voice.
"It's just that apparently some bodies were found around Falkreath."
Still working through his stew, Advik was uninterested. This wasn't anything special.
"Probably some wild animal or something." He paused to sip his stew. "Maybe the local Lumberjacks pissed off a spriggan."
"But that's just it, from the way they tell it the bodies are nearly intact."
This caught his attention. Some poor sod getting mauled in the woods wasn't much to worry about most of the time. Even a clan of bandits wasn't a big problem if there weren't too many, but bandits don't leave bodies anywhere close to intact. Had he finally tracked it down?
"Nearly?"
"They're rumors so the finer details get jumbled. But from what I can put together from local gossip, the cause of death is always the same. A precise puncture through the neck. People are saying that it's the return of the dark brotherhood." The lady explained, unable to hide the hint of fear in her eyes.
Advik stood, adjusting his mask back into place. He dropped a bag of coins on the counter, that made a thud as it hit the oak, before giving the woman some reassurance.
"I highly doubt that, I saw the raid on their sanctuary first hand." The man turned to go back to his room, giving one last glance to her over his shoulder. "Plus, if the dark brotherhood was back. You certainly wouldn't have heard about it."
He was already ascending the stairs when she called after him.
"Hey this is way over what the stew costs!"
The man merely waved his hand dismissively, not bothering to stop. Advik spent the rest of the day lazing around, eventually falling asleep, returning to his dreams.
Eleven years ago
Advik's eyes slowly peeled open and looked around, still in a daze. His surroundings were unfamiliar. He was in a small wooden room lit only by the morning sun shining In through the window directly next to his bed. It felt as though he had been trampled by a horse. He rubbed his aching head, trying to remember how he got here.
I remember the caravan stopped for the night. Then the guy guarding me went to grab me some dinner. And while he was gone I-I… Ran! I was running!
The boy shot up and almost jumped out of his skin when something wet suddenly dropped onto his leg. It was a wet cloth that had previously been on his forehead. Embarrassed by the feminine shriek that just escaped him, he examined the room in depth.
Next to the bed was a pale of water, used rags lined the rim of it. Not far from that were bandages lying on an end table in the corner of the room. And at the foot of the bed sat upon a dresser, there was a golden statuette he was sure was staring at him.
"That's not creepy whatsoever." He muttered sarcastically
That's when he noticed that he was wrapped in enough bandages to pass for a mummy. Running his hand over the bandages, he thought aloud.
"I'm warm, apparently being cared for, and lying in a bed rather than a steel cage. Where in Oblivion am I?"
As if to answer his question a panicked redguard man dressed in yellow priest's robes burst into the room holding a bundle of rags.
"Is everything alright? I heard someone scream."
Advik immediately scooted back against the wall tensing up. Seeing this the man relaxed, raising his hands in surrender.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you."
"Who are you? What is this place?"
"My name Is Maramal, I'm a priest here. This is the temple of Mara in Riften."
"Mara." He echoed trying to recall what little he knew about the nine divines. "That's the divine of beauty right?"
The man gave an amused chuckle.
"Close but no. That would be Dibella. Mara is the goddess of love and kinship. Do you remember how you got here?"
The boy, only slightly relaxing, merely shook his head.
"An older elven couple brought you here. They said they found you passed out on the road covered in bruises. All they could get out of you was your name, Advik."
With the last part he gave a questioning look, as if to ask for confirmation.
The boy nodded, seemingly finally relaxing, and motioned for him to continue.
And so Maramal did just that, kneeling down to change out the rags lining the bucket beside him.
"Well Advik, I'm glad to see you finally conscious. It's been about a day, I was starting to worry. Your quite the heavy sleeper you kno-"
"Why are you helping me?"
Maramal was silent, obviously shocked at such a question.
"Why help a total stranger who probably can't return the favor."Advik hesitated for a moment before gesturing at his ears, exposed without any long hair to cover them."And one like me."
The priest looked at him with a confused look, that then changed into a warm smile that did nothing to hide a gleam of triumph in his eyes.
"My child, you don't owe me any kind of favor. I'm happy to help simply because you were in pain. It's my duty as a servant of Mara to spread her gifts by tending to the sick, the poor, and the lost." Briefly he paused to emphasize the last point. "And as for what you are… I have to admit, I'm happy I was correct in my guess."
Advik gripped the bedsheets, his emerald eyes gazing downward as he spoke.
"You're certainly not the first person to be entertained by my situation. Not everyday you see a freak of nature in the flesh, " he muttered darkly.
Maramal jumped up and was quick to correct the boy.
"No no no, you misunderstand! I meant no offense!"
Seeing that he had startled the young boy with his sudden outburst he quickly collected himself and continued.
"Ahem, what I meant was that it warms my heart, seeing the result of such an unlikely love in a cruel world such as this one."
Advik found his words hard to believe. But it was hard to deny the genuineness in his voice. After a moment of pondering he realized that the priest's smile had faded and he was eyeing the bandages that covered his torso. A few seconds later he realized what the man must've been thinking.
"You're fine, the "unlikely lovers" didn't do this," he reassured, gesturing to the bandages that covered his body. "And no, they didn't stick around long enough for me to know which one was what."
Maramal gave a sigh of relief knowing he hadn't just spoken so highly of the boy's abusers. Then he stood and walked over to the dresser with the creepy statue. He pulled out a white shirt and a pair of ragged brown trousers. Then a pair of black boots from under the foot of the bed.
"I'm sorry I can't offer you much, but at least it's better than what you arrived in," he apologized, handing in the folded clothes. "I'll leave you to get dressed."
After a few minutes Advik emerged from the room dressed in his new ill-fitting attire.
He had to roll up the pants, and the shirt was a few sizes too big. But it wasn't so bad that he couldn't use them so he was still grateful.
Looking around, this must be the main hall of the temple. Candles and dark red banners of Mara's crest lined the wooden walls. Leading from the entrance to the center of the room was a brown carpet with a dull yellow Diamond pattern. Lining the aisle created by the rug were two long rows of pews, at the ends of which were lit decorative braziers. And in the center of it all was a long ornate stone table, sat in front of a golden motherly looking statuette extending her arms.
Mara
"Ah you're finished."
Maramal emerged from another room.
"Normally, now that you're up I'd help you get home but-" his voice trailed off seeing Advik begin to tense back up. "That doesn't seem like something you want. Or need for that matter."
Advik was quick to confirm, shaking his head.
"I thought not. But I'm sorry to say you can't stay here. We don't have the room or the resources to care for you."
"It's alright I was leaving anyway."
"Oh?"
"Yeah there's an orphanage here right? I'm only fourteen, they should still take me."
He turned to leave. The man's sorry expression flipped into panic.
"Wait, no you can't go there!"
Advik jumped back at the outburst. Maramal collected himself.
"Sorry, it's just that Honorhall is the last place you want to go. The head mistress, Grelod The Kind, despite her title, isn't someone you want to call your guardian."
He waited for the priest to elaborate, when he just squirmed anxiously the boy was left a little confused. When he stepped out he was greeted with the sight of the biggest city he'd ever been in.
Riften, Skyrim's most notorious city.
He spent most of his first day there exploring the city. He found it was separated into different sections for various purposes.
Dryside, the northern, eastern, and southern edges of the city, built on the shore ofa nearby lake. Most of the residents of Riften have their homes here. The temple of Mara takes up a good portion of the east. And in the south is Mistveil keep. A Great castle and seat of power in Riften. A canal runs through the city splitting Dryside from the western edge.
Plankside, The western edge of the city. Located directly atop the waters, built atop wooden docks. There are three main docks projecting from Plankside onto the lake, one taken up completely by a huge Meadery and the other two used for commerce and fishery.
The Riften Canal, the lower level of the city; small residences and an alchemy shop are built into moisture ridden stone. It's dark and traversed only along rickety catwalks. It also contains the entrance toThe sewers. He'd heard them described as a place to avoid, even in a city ridden with crime.
In Riften crime is commonplace, muggings, foul play, thieving, corrupt guards, and most other crimes you can think of being part of the daily routine. The buildings are old and ramshackle. The city gives off an old and run-down feeling. Most visitors were either repelled or driven off by it. But the city's inhabitants seemed unbothered by it.
Given that he had no money and was scared of the orphanage, Advik didn't get to eat that day. For sleep he found a spot in the outskirts of Dryside less horribly dank than the rest of the streets, even if that's not saying much. The next two days were more of the same. Advik tried asking for scraps, offering to do odd jobs, and even digging through garbage among the vermin. All eliciting the same responses from the 'lovely' people of Riften. He was laughed at, chased off, and sometimes beaten.
On the fourth day the boy sat just outside the marketplace leaned up against the local tavern, surveying the open area.
No, he's too big
No, she's broke
Nah not him
No
Nu-uh
Well hello there
After spending all morning people watching, at last someone caught his attention.
Old, dressed all fancy, and stinking more of booze than the meadery. He's perfect. I just hope he's feeling generous today.
Advik quickly fell in step behind the man as he stumbled through the street. As they both began down an alley he saw his opportunity. He reached his hand out, trembling as it went. In a lapse of control his hand overshot, tapping the man on the back.
Shit!
"Huh?"
The man sloppily turned, slurring as he spoke.
"What do you want?"
"Uh-uh I'm so sorry to bother you sir. It's just um well."
His gaze was locked downward, hands fidgeting.
"Spit it out Brat I ain't got all day."
"It's just I haven't eaten all week and I've no money. I was wondering, if-if you could spare a few septims?"
"Buzz off you little urchin, I've got nothing for you," the man spat, waving him off and kept walking.
"Tch, crusty old bastard."
Advik had no idea he'd even been heard until his feet left the ground. Now he found himself at eye level, the stench of alcohol assaulting his nose worse than ever.
"What'd you call me, you worthless little shit?"
Advik flailed in his grasp.
"Lemme go ham hands!"
The man winded up his free fist. "I'll teach you some respect, you little-"
When the anticipated blow never came he unclenched his eyes. The man was just staring, a dumbfounded look on his face.
"Just what the hell are you?"
Oh here we go again
"I thought you were human… then those ears… but since when do knife ears other than dark elves have black hair? And if you ain't a dark elf aren't you supposed to be kinda yellow?"
After examining every oddity in the boy's face he dropped him and began to stumble away.
"I really need to lay off the mead. I'm starting to hallucinate."
While the drunk left, rambling confused slurs, Advik grinned down at his prize.
Ninety-one
Ninety-two
Ninety-four
Ninety-six
Advik sat on the street corner he'd chosen for the day, mentally counting his Ill-gotten gains. Zoned in, he paid no heed to his surroundings.
"That was quite the save back there," a strange accent said next to him.
He let out a yelp as he jumped back.
"Shor's beard!"
The man next to him chuckled
"Sorry lad didn't mean to scare ya. But tell me. Was the whole almost getting a broken jaw thing, part of your master plan, or were you improvising after you failed to snatch his coin purse?"
"H-How did you?"
"it's part of my job to notice these sorts of things. And I must say, you're not half bad, young as you are."
"How I feed myself has got nothing to do with you," he growled.
"Ah, but you see it's got everything to do with me. Because while you're good, I'm a whole lot better," he said while lifting a coin purse.
Advik looked down at his own to compare only to see he was now instead holding an apple.
"Huh? Wait a minute, Give that back!"
The man obliged with a huge grin plastered across his face. He caught it and tucked it under his shirt.
"What do you want from me?"
"Like I said, you're good. But you could use some work. How about we go for a walk?"
"A walk?"
"Yeah, nothing special. I just want to gauge your skills some more, and teach you some things along the way. What do you say lad?"
Wearily, Advik agreed.
"The names Brynjolf lad. And I think we're gonna get along just fine."
Present Day
Advik strolled through Falkreath's large stone gate, his hands in his coat pockets. He'd spent the walk here daydreaming about the past. Even though Helgen wasn't that far it still took about half a day. Nightfall wasn't far, it would be dark in the coming hours.
Damn, I've only got a couple hours before they're active. If I'm right that is.
Deciding it would be best to eavesdrop on locals for info he headed straight for the tavern. On his way past the Jarl's longhouse he noticed a commotion.
"This is an outrage, you're supposed to protect us!"
"The city guard is doing everything we can. You must be patient, we don't even know What's causing these attacks," a guard pleaded.
He stood between the entrance of the longhouse and a furious nord man. The two were surrounded by the forming crowd of concerned citizens.
"Oh but you do know! And that milk-drinker of a Jarl you're protecting has done nothing about it!"
"Sir, I'll ask you one more time. Keep your voice down."
Now the man was in the guard's face.
"Or what? You gonna make me the next victim? Or maybe that's that's the idea! Maybe the spoiled Brat in there hired the dark brotherhood to end all those who would-"
Just as the two were about to come to blows Advik pushed in between them. Keeping his tone light-hearted as always.
"Hey hey now let's not do something we all know is stupid. What's the problem buddy?"
"The problem is, that once again we're being picked off, and once again the Jarl does nothing about it!" Despite responding to Advik's question he was still yelling toward the guard.
"Mathies, I'm sorry Sinding got away back then, but this has nothing to do with any of that."
At this Mathies attempted to charge the guard but was stopped by Advik, who laid an arm over his shoulder and brought him off to the side.
"Alright now, calm down."
"But he-"
"Look, I know Siddgeir is a pitiful excuse for a Jarl. I can't begin to list all the reasons he needs his ass kicked."
"So then why are you stopping me?"
"Do you mean besides the fact that you'll be dead before you can open the front door?"
Mathies gave him an unamused glare.
He continued, and gestured at the crowd that had formed around them.
"See them?"
The man looked around, not getting what he was referring to.
"So people are watching. Big deal."
"Kids are watching, waiting to see what the big smart grown up does. Is this the kind of example you want to set?"
For a long moment Mathies looked at a group of kids in the crowd with a somber expression across his face.
"No," he answered quietly.
"And don't worry whatever is happening I'll deal with it," Advik said, giving him a thumbs up.
The man hesitated for a moment but quietly left to not cause any more of a scene.
"Thank you citizen, I didn't think he would ever back down," the guard said as Advik approached.
"No problem. Thank you for not killing him. Anyhow, I'd like to see the Jarl myself."
"I'm sorry, but you can't come in either. The Jarl is… busy."
Yeah right, with some whore maybe
"Yes, I'm sure he's so very busy. but I dare say the town's safety might be a little more important," he said sarcastically.
"You'd think so," he muttered under his breath. "Regardless, orders are orders."
"OK fine, but could you deliver a message for me?"
The guard looked apprehensive for a moment but nodded.
"Ask him how his protection racket is going."
The guard was visibly shocked. He seemed to wait for Advik to elaborate, but stepped inside when it was obvious their conversation was done.
Oh I wish I could see his face right now. Not to worry though. The guard will be back in…
3
2
1
As if on cue the guard reappeared, motioning him to come inside.
Inside the hall was just as he remembered. Purple Banners with the brand of Falkreath hung on the stone walls and wooden supports. A rectangular fire pit led up to the throne where a Weasel of a man sat, some of his court standing by him.
The young man looked down upon him, his disgust even more evident when he spoke.
"I hope you have a damn good reason for dragg-"
Advik interrupted, his tone nonchalant.
"What's up Money Bags, still using bandits to extort your people?"
Siddgeir's eyes widened with shock as his eyes darted between his subjects.
"Keep your voice do-"
"Scratch that, I don't care. What's with the killings?"
"How should I know? A few farmers dropped dead, who cares."
"You would know because whenever something shady happens here you either have something to do with it or are behind it in the first place."
"This is absurd! First you come into my home unannounced then you accuse me of murder?"
"Look, I know that you know something that could help. So, just cough it up and I'll get going."
"I've had just about enough of your attitude. I don't know who you are, but I am the esteemed Jarl of Falkreath. I can have you in chains before you can snap your fingers. I have more wealth in my back pocket than you'll ever see in your worthless commoner life. I demand respect, and you will give it to me!"
A satisfied smirk formed as he gave his brief reply.
"Bite me."
Rage burned into The Jarl's expression.
"Come again?"
Advik repeated, still showing no concern whatsoever.
"I said bite me. I couldn't care less what you demand, I just want to find our mystery killer."
Siddgeir slammed his fist down on the throne.
"That's it, guards arrest this cretin!"
On command half a dozen guards drew their swords as they advanced on him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Offset by his calm warning the guards hesitated for a moment.
"What are you waiting for you fools? Arrest hi-"
"Wuld!"
A sudden gust of wind blasted through the longhouse, nearly toppling the guards.
"By the gods! What was that?" one of the guards questioned.
Another piped up, his voice trembling.
"H-hey guys, Where'd he go?"
"I hope you're willing to fill me in now," Advik said from behind the throne.
He had leaned up against the back of the jarl's throne with his arms crossed. Siddgeir was trembling now, his eyes wide in realization.
"Y-You your-"
"Tired of your crap. Now tell me what you know before I test your houscarl's reflexes," Advik threatened, placing a hand on his sword.
"We think It's the brotherhood," the jarl's steward stepped up.
"That's not possible, I killed them myself. But this isn't the first time I've heard that rumor. Why does everyone think they're back?"
"It's just a bunch of commoners trying to make a big deal out of nothing," Siddgeir snided.
"It is a big deal, people are dying. Now zip it, the adults are talking."
Siddgeir looked mad but couldn't work up the courage to do something about it. Advik motioned for the steward to continue.
"Like I was saying, we think the brotherhood might be back. After the Dra- I mean you and Penitus Oculotus raided the place, the jarl was charged with keeping an eye on their sanctuary down the road."
"There's only a few people in Skyrim capable of ordering a jarl around. Who did this order come from?"
"General Tulius did after he got your report."
Surprising, but nice to see he takes my warnings seriously. Even though half of what I've told him sounds like a bad fever dream.
"Ok so what, did you see them at the sanctuary?"
"Maybe, we're not sure. Scouts as well as a few civilians have reported seeing activity around there but…"
"The last scout you sent never came back and a body still hasn't popped up Right?"
She looked shocked like the words had been stolen straight from her mouth.
"Thought so. And I'll bet my next payday that you've only seen them come and go at night."
"Yes, exactly. How did you know?"
"Call it intuition. Anyway, thank you for your help ma'am. Now I can deal with your little infestation."
He gave a cold stare to Siddgeir
"As for you. You know, I'm starting to get fed up with your lack of concern for your people."
The jarl did his best to hide behind a mask of toughness.
"Are you threatening me kinsman?"
"Of course not, I'm promising you. Behave or we'll ruin you," He said flashing the backside of his amulet.
Advik didn't bother to stay for his reaction. He left the longhouse and started traveling westward from Falkreath.
That went how I thought it would. Getting under pompous jerks' skin is always fun. It might have been easier if I just flexed my thane status from the start. Nah he would just send me on some quest fixing his mistakes before he'd give me any info. Anyway it's almost dark. If I hurry I might be able to catch them before they go out to hunt.
It wasn't long before Advik found himself deep in Falkreath's dense forests in front of an ominous stairway hidden off the side of the main road.
The Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary
Odd, the black door has been ripped off. Definitely not the brotherhood. Heh, at least now I won't have to remember the passphrase.
He crept down the stairs silently. He stepped down into the planning room where he was alone.
No guards? Not even a rune or some other trap? Maybe the Jarl gave me crap info.
At that moment a familiar metallic scent filled his nostrils.
Blood
He looked over to see a table with two city guards slumped over cold and lifeless.
Drained of blood. Thralls most likely. Forced to guard these parasites and tossed aside when they were done with them.
Then he heard hushed voices further down. He descended the stairs until just before the doorway at the base. Peeking out he knew exactly what he saw. In the center of a large overgrown cavern stood a group of about half a dozen chanting figures.
Just what are you up to, my little fiends.
Six of the creatures stood in a circle chanting, all dressed in pitch black robes. In the middle were two people that he couldn't quite see.
Standing here won't figure it out. Time to have some fun.
Advik emerged from the door and stalked up to the group casually.
"Hey guys!"
All the figures' attention snapped to the mortal strolling toward them without a care in the world. They all reached for weapons and bared fangs.
"Who dares intrude here?"
"Sweet roll gifting service. I have a delivery for a creepy den of vampires."
Suddenly one of the vampires lunged at him, sword raised. Advik side stepped the swing and countered, slicing off his attackers head before he could hit the ground.
The rest were visibly shocked at the display of speed. Each began to circle Advik, waiting to see a chance to strike.
"Geez I get it. You're not a big fan of sweets, you don't have to get that worked up."
"Just what is it you want mortal?" an altmer vampire asked from behind the main group.
"Told you, I have a delivery. I'm just not sure if one of you is who I'm looking for."
He pulled a crinkled up piece of paper from his pocket. He tossed it to the one in the back.
There was something different about this vampire. The way it was dressed in more regal armor than the rest. How it carried itself, how it spoke. It gave Advik the feeling that he was talking to something very old. And very powerful. It excited him far more than it should have. The vampire caught it easily.
"What's this then?"
"Let's call it a list of my bestest friends. And I've been trying very hard to find them for a while," Advik beamed sarcastically.
"Uh-huh. And just what did these 'bestest friends' do to get on your hit list?"
He unfolded the paper and scanned the list. As he scrutinized the list an expression crept across his face. Just the expression Advik was hoping for. Recognition.
Advik let out a cold satisfied laugh.
"That's exactly the reaction I was hoping for. Recognize some of the names? How many here are on there?"
He pointed his pale blade at the elder vampire.
"And which one are you?"
The elder dropped the list and stepped back.
Someone stood beside him apart from the rest. He was big, reaching a little higher than the naturally tall altmer vampire. Long black hair obscured his face. His outfit was a collection of mismatched heavy armor.
"I've entertained this for long enough," he hissed. "Kill this fool."
On command two of the vampires rushed Advik from opposite sides. In unison his attackers swung, he dropped down causing their swords to clash. A kick to the chest sent one tumbling away. Still crouched down Advik spun around severing the other's legs at the knee. Advik had barely stood back up when his opponent returned, attacking with a flurry of enraged blows. He returned the ferocity, deflecting each one.
"This can't seriously be all you have," he taunted.
Swords clashed once more when Advik sent the vampire's blade upward. Taking the opening, a horizontal slash went for the creature's neck. A searing pain shot through his side as his body convulsed, allowing the vampire to jump back. Advik rolled to the side, as another bolt of lightning ripped through the space where he just stood.
Mages huh? Good, at least it'll be a little bit fun now.
Not giving him any breathing room, the swordsman vampire was back on the offensive. A barrage of slashes was hurled his way, supported from afar by the other three's spells. Unable to focus completely on attacking, he resorted to dodging. Despite the supernatural speed of his enemies' attacks, Advik had no trouble avoiding. With every attack he evaded he watched for an opening.
"You know, when I think about it, vampire melee fighters are really rare," Advik said conversationally. "You all usually sit back and cast spells while your thralls fight me for you. It's actually pretty exciting to finally have a sword fight with one of you. Even if you kinda suck."
The vampire's assault grew increasingly aggressive. His formerly precise slashing became little more than a wild frenzy.
"Stop talking!"
There it is.
Advik sliced upward severing the vampire's hand as it winded up its blow. His free hand lifted the monster from the ground by its throat as it gasped for air. He held the vampire in front of him as he ran toward one of the mages. His shield convulsed as bolts of lightning struck it repeatedly.
"Hold this!"
Advik hurled the crispy vampire into its comrade, who caught him out of instinct. Before the pair could recover he plunged his sword through the both of them piercing their hearts. He pulled his sword out just in time to sidestep another bolt.
"Do you guys know any other spells? Obviously you're not hitting me, do something else."
"I'll show you another spell alright," one of the mages seethed. "Die pathetic mortal!"
The crackling electricity in its fingers was replaced by a concentrated ball of fire.
Hook line and sinker.
Advik took advantage of the switching time. He pulled his crossbow from its holster and fired a bolt into the vampire's throat. The spell in its hand dissipated as it thudded to the ground sputtering blood.
He turned to his remaining combatant, and fell into a new stance. He positioned his sword at waist height.
"Wuld Nah Kest!"
In the time it would take to blink he shot across the room, closing the distance and piercing the vampire and the wall behind it. Advik pushed the sword further in, pinning the vampire and eliciting an agonized scream. He drew a dagger from his boot and went for the kill.
"Wait! Wait! Wait!"
Advik barely stopped the blade from slitting its throat. It stopped and rested just on the creature's throat, a small trickle of blood running down.
"Please, I'll do anything! You want money, power, to be a vampire? Whatever you want!"
the vampire begged profusely.
"Name."
"Huh?"
"I want your name," he stated simply.
He pressed the blade further.
"And please, don't lie to me."
"T-Taven, Taven Malthaka. Now please don't hurt me!"
Advik pulled the dagger back and stood quiet for a moment.
"Thank the dread father. I thought I was gonna- AAAAAAH!"
Its prayers were cut short when Advik violently impaled his hand, pinning it to the wall. Another dagger emerged from Adviks person and he pinned its other hand.
"Guess what friend. You're on the list. Pretty high up there too."
"What list? What did I ever do to you?"
"Not me, a friend. And besides, your body count alone has to be enough to justify this treatment. But I'll have to play with you later, be sure not to bleed out before I get back."
Advik left the battered monster pinned to the wall. He made his way back to the center of the room and returned his attention back to the elder.
"So old man. Wanna be my next dance partner?"
"Patience, you'll get your dance partner. But first I must apologize."
"Huh? You can't seriously be apologizing when you don't know why," advik pointed out, more than a little confused.
"No no," it waved off. "Don't misunderstand, I'm not apologizing for whatever petty vendetta you have against me or my kind. I apologize for my earlier underestimation of your abilities. It is clear to me now that you are more than a match for anyone I've encountered."
"I guess you've never heard of not judging a book by its cover. Even if said cover is a heavily armed manchild with an attitude."
"Well, in my defense. Who could have predicted I'd be hunted down by the fabled Dragonborn," it smugly grinned.
"Oh you figured it out? good for you, want a sweet roll?" He asked sardonically. "Tell me, how did you solve that great mystery? Was it maybe the shouting?"
"I think I prefer you when you don't talk."
"Join the club, meetings are once a week. By the way, what strand are you?"
"Excuse me?"
"Y'know what kind of vampire you are. Like Sanguine, Hemophilia, Sanguivoria, Volkihar."
"The kind you shouldn't turn your back to," it said with a devious smile.
It was then he noticed the other one was missing.
Advik jumped to the side just in time to dodge the mace crashing down at him. The ground ruptured where he just stood, split by a sinister spiked mace.
Have I seen that somewhere before?
The black haired vampire from before stood, revealing a sadistic scowl and demonic yellow eyes.
"Quieter than you look, big guy."
Without skipping a beat it continued its attack, powerful swipes barely missing Advik. The vicious swings, powerful enough to make blocking nearly impossible, barely acknowledged Advik's deflecting. The mace came crashing down, Advik back stepped letting the weapon slam into the ground again. One foot stomped down on the mace, the other gave a rising kick to its jaw. It lost its grip on the mace as it stumbled back. Advik seized this opening. He moved forward with a gut punch, as it reeled forward he drew a dagger, driving it into the thing's neck. He pulled out another and went to stab its heart. Blood spattered when it caught the dagger, now stabbed through its hand. It held Adviks right hand in a death grip and grabbed his opposite shoulder, holding him still to deliver a powerful headbutt. As Advik stumbled back it chased with a right hook, following up with a left.
"Fus Roh Da!"
Its onslaught was interrupted when it was sent flying by the Thu'um, slamming into the wall hard enough to create a web of cracks. Clapping sounded through the cavern.
"Bravo, bravo," the elder vampire cheered. "As I expected Bal, your power is already glorious."
"Bal? Man, your parents really hated you," Advik snickered.
"And you. You really do live up to all those tales the nords tell, despite what your immaturity would leave one to believe."
"Aww, aren't you sweet. Yes I'll give you an autograph, Wrinkles."
The vampire scowled.
"My point is proven. Anyway, I'm also impressed at your knowledge of vampirism. Most hunters don't know the difference between the strands, or that they exist for that matter. Though, I find something you said strange."
"A Lot of people find me strange, you'll have to be more specific."
"You are the dragonborn. The same person who slayed Lord Harkon and his entire clan, yes?"
"More or less. Where is this going?"
"You asked what kind of vampire I am. 'Strain' I believe is the word you used. Among the examples you used you listed the Volkihar strand. This would imply that it hasn't been fully eradicated, when you of all people should know that's not the case."
It knows about her, he's just trying to get me to admit she's alive.
"I know what you're doing, and that's not why I listed Volkihar. I did because I know for a fact that's what you are."
Disbelief washed over its face.
"Preposterous. I would have to be thousands of years old. I was only a teenager during the Oblivion Crisis."
Raised pitch, finger and eye twitch.
"You're a shitty liar."
"How would you know? You can't be older than thirty," it hissed, appalled.
"Besides the fact that your tells are super obvious. I know how you turned."
"Bullshit! Now you're lying!"
"What happened to that prim and proper attitude from before?" He chuckled. "Valerica Volkihar."
"W-What? How?"
"Judging by your reaction, you're her direct progeny. Not only does that confirm you're on the list, it means you're somewhere at the top. So, what's your name, monster?"
The bewildered expression on its face turned back into a cold calculating scowl.
"Bal, we're done here. Destroy this fool," the elder vampire commanded as it vanished into thin air.
"Hey! We're not done you bastard!"
Advik chased the shimmering figure out of the sanctuary, keenly aware of the thundering footsteps behind him as they ran.
Dammit, his invisibility isn't perfect but it doesn't need to be when it's this dark. Good thing I have more powers than I know what to do with.
"Laas Yah Nir."
Adviks eyes focused on the red outline that appeared in front of him. Lightning crackled in his palm. He extended his arm and a bolt of lightning ripped through the Elder's leg. As the vampire tumbled Advik drew a dagger then lunged through the air. But Bal caught him by the leg before he could reach the elder. It slammed him against a tree with its brutish strength, knocking the wind out of him, then threw him to the side.
Bal knelt down beside his elder as Advik lifted himself up, gasping for air.
"My master, are you alright? Can you move?"
"My leg is over there somewhere! What do you think?" the elder spat through gritted teeth.
Bal propped its master against a tree before standing to face Advik.
"The fight is with me, coward. But it looks like you may need to surrender, you're unarmed."
Advik laughed as he pulled himself to his feet
"You don't know how many more knives I have under here."
An azure glow emitted from his hand as a bound sword manifested.
"And you really need to stop underestimating me."
Bal rushed him down, resuming his assault. One by one Advik knocked away its onslaught. One thing he noticed was it had gotten stronger.
"Were you holding back before? Oh boy I hope so. That'll make this way more fun."
He stepped back, letting Bal's upward blow catch air. An audible snap was heard when Advik stomped his foot down on Bal's shin. Sparks flew out as their weapons clashed. Bal pushed back against him, confused when it gained no ground.
"What?" Advik chuckled. "You didn't really think you were the only one holding back did you?"
He let the mace slide down his sword, slinging dirt as it scraped the ground. His free hand violently yanked the dagger from Bal's neck. He continued to deflect wild swinging, a horizontal strike was knocked away. Then Advik lodged the knife in Bal's uninjured knee. Bal death gripped his hand, pulled him into a knee in the gut. A powerful upper to chin lifted him off the ground. Bal stopped him, catching him by the foot. He was swung around like a ragdoll and slammed into the dirt, unable to retaliate when he was swung overhead and slammed again. When he was lifted once more he waited till the height of the swing.
"Feim Zii Gron!"
Advik slipped from Bal's grip, getting hurled through the air, phasing through trees as he flew. He picked himself up as his ethereal glow faded and he became tangible once more. Looking up he saw Bal storming towards him, savage hatred in his eyes.
This really is gonna hurt.
He reached up and removed his mask.
"Yol Toor Shul!"
As the words burst out mouth so did a concentrated hose of fire, engulfing Bal completely as it screamed in agony. His throat felt as if he were vomiting burning hot razors. He continued even as every part of his body yelled out in pain for him to stop. Suddenly the flame surrounding Bal dispersed into a wall of fire, showering the forest, igniting the trees around them. Advik cut off the flame, remasking his face.
As the smoke cleared Bal's figure was revealed, using his mace for balance. His armor was melted to his skin, his body charred beyond recognition. One of its eyes had melted and was slowly oozing out of its socket. Still it stood even with burnt flesh peeling off him. On the other side of the flames, it stared Advik down, malice filling its eyes. Surrounding it was a transparent barrier, a powerful ward, preventing the fire from spreading to it. Despite its critical condition Bal braced itself to charge through the blaze.
"Bal that's enough!" The elder commanded, stopping it in its tracks. "Look at yourself, it's time to go while we can."
The elder turned to Advik, showing a cocky grin.
"This was an excellent learning experience. I can't wait to see how it turns out next time when Bal's transformation is finished."
There's no way! It's only a fledgling?
"Oh, didn't I mention? The ritual you so rudely interrupted was Bal's turning. Quite the catch huh? Anyway we must be going now, Bal might fall apart if we don't."
The elder cast invisibility on Bal and got ready to turn himself.
"H-Hey!" He choked out in a raspy voice. "We're not-n-not." He fell to his knees, coughing up blood.
The elder laughed cruelly.
"It looks to me like you are done. Besides, you have a forest fire to contain, we wouldn't want it spreading back to town would we?"
The elder disappeared from sight, leaving one last taunt behind.
"I almost forgot! I never gave you my name did I? Just call me M. Be seeing you, hero."