A blood sun rose above Whiterun. The 2nd of Morning Star, year 202 of the 4th Era, was beckoned with the wrenching cries and despair of the people in the city's smouldering streets. Family clasped their fallen loved ones, guardsman grieved for their friends. Homes were caved and destroyed from the collateral damage of the vampire raid, leaving Whiterun's people poor and their hearts grieved.

Kodlak sifted through the last of the remains. So many faces from his lifetime behind Whiterun's walls. Good men who fought for their city. Veteran soldiers, humble guardsmen, and young recruits all cluttered the faces of the fallen. They were taken to the Hall of the Dead to be left forever, to slowly decay with the lineage of ancestors who once walked the same streets. Kodlak bleakly ambled down from the market, his eyes weary and teared.

Cries of a woman wailed loudly down into the Plains District. Saffir, Amren's wife, wailed wrenchingly as she held her deceased husband. Her body rocked as she screamed hoarsely, as their young daughter, Braith, haplessly tried to console her. Skjor walked behind Kodlak who stared at the despair helplessly.

Skjor crooned behind Kodlak's shoulder as he approached, "How many dead?"

Kodlak gloomed stiffly, "Too many to seek comfort in our efforts."

Skjor breathed out shakily and asked, "I know… we weren't prepared. But still, I need an exact number for the Jarl."

Kodlak winced and turned back to Skjor with a hollow glare, "Twenty-two. Mostly town guard. We did lose a few civilians. Amren, there, was a mercenary. Used to come up to Jorrvaskr to watch the training. Uthgerd the Unbroken; strong lass. She tried to join us last year and was involved in the incident with the young whelp. Sadly, her heart flailed in her last moments, but she didn't go down willingly. Sinmir… Farkas's friend, he will be devastated at the news. Commander Cauis, his remains were littered all over the Plains District. Severio Pelagia, Acolyte Jenssen, and Jenassa; a dark elf mercenary, all died last night. Their bodies have been moved to the Hall of the Dead. The guards, as well. Most of their families are outside the Hold. Jarl Balgruuf should contact them of their passing before proceeding with burials."

"Shor's bones…" Skjor seethed in anger and disgust, "So many dead. All because of this vampire raid. The damn fanged menace will pay dearly for this."

Jarl Balgruuf sat to his throne with his face in his hands, hunched over and breathing lowly. Irileth approached gingerly, keeping a respectful distance from her grieving Jarl.

"My lord…" Irileth cooed, "Perhaps in this time… we should prepare to accept General Tullius's legionnaires… in recuperating what's been lost."

Jarl Balgruuf stayed silent and unmoved to Irileth's suggestion. She continued, "I understand your indifference to the war. I know you do not wish to take sides within Stormcloak or Imperial control, but we need help now more than ever. The Stormcloaks have less to offer. We should…"

"Enough," grumbled Balgruuf through his hands, and looked up at Irileth with red rimmed eyes, wilting in tears, "I will not invite more suffering to my people. The Stormcloaks and Imperials have no place within these walls. Surely picking one side, the other will declare war against us. We are already weakened as it is. This is Whiterun's fight. I have asked for help, Irileth. It's the best chance we have…"

Irileth stayed a respectful distance and remarked, "With all due respect, my Jarl. These fools are no better than either sides of the war. I have done my research into Isran and what I found was troubling. He's a former Vigilant of Stendarr, with an estranged past in the faction. He's been known to use means of torture, feigning, and using innocents as bait. His methods are… twisted. You still are of mind he's honourable enough to protect Whiterun?"

Jarl Balgruuf shook his head, "This isn't about honour. This is about knowledge. At this time, we don't know enough about these vampires to have the upper hand. Isran does. Half of my men were killed in that attack because I didn't prepare them. I softened them up with mead, I allowed their guard to break down. All for that needless festival that only cost my people greatly. It might as well had been a last feast. I prepared them like goats for the slaughter."

Irileth stepped closer, as her heart demanded to console her lord, "My Jarl, you couldn't have foreseen this. Those men came here with flights of fancy. They reeked of ambition and spoke of matters that were far from the norm. Vampires have never dared to intrude the city, and by their nature they wouldn't. This is far from anyone's imagination."

"Except theirs. The Dawnguard," the Jarl stated, "It happened, Irileth. Which means what Isran stated was true. The vampires are up to something wrong. They weakened our defence which is exactly what they wanted."

She muttered back, "So you think they will attack again?"

Jarl Balgruuf alarmed, "I know they will. It's only a matter of time. We need that gate back up before they do."

She abided, "Of course, my lord, I agree. I will make the arrangements to get it repaired, immediately."

He sighed, "Thank you, Irileth."

Jarl Balgruuf sat up from his throne and beckoned his court wizard's quarters. Farengar stayed fixed to dusted books he had procured from his library; all on vampires and their abilities. Farengar raised to his Jarl who approached with a somber look,

"My Jarl, please do come in. I have made some discoveries on these pests that you may be inclined to hear."

The Jarl asked, "Like what?"

"Well," Farengar cleared his throat and continued, "What happened last night was most unusual, as you know. Vampires usually don't raid a city if they wish to control it. They are cunning and like to work secretly, to a far larger, ambitious end. In fact, most vampires prefer a natural order. They scavenge for victims; certainly not pillage a city. This was likely a stepping stone for them. Where we see a forest fire, they see a stray flame; working to create that which we fear the most. World invasion."

Jarl Balgruuf growled, "I already figured that, Farengar. Tell me something I don't know."

Farengar coughed in his hand and flipped through pages of his tomes earnestly, "Um… alright. There is very little they can do during the day. The sun is searing to them. So, I don't completely understand how they could conquer such a feat in just the hours of the night. They'd need thralls for feeding, too. So yes, they are working on something big. Firstly, by weakening the major city defences and wreaking havoc on Skyrim's country. Those vampires last night wore a different set of armour under their cloaks that I haven't seen before. It's traditional design that goes back millennia. These are ancient vampires, my lord. They aren't wild and primitive like the ones we have today. They are coming from somewhere mythic. Possibly the source of what's going on."

Jarl Balgruuf inquired, "Can you tell me a location?"

Farengar explained, "No, sadly. But there is a few locations of possible interest I have read in these tomes. A place called 'Dimhollow Crypt' is a revered vampire lair, and rumoured to have something ancient within. Possibly a relic, but this is hearsay."

Jarl Balgruuf and Farengar were interrupted by a panting soldier who raced into the palace for the Jarl's attention.

He blathered, "My Jarl! They are here. The Dawnguard!"

Outside the palace, the Jarl paced down into the Plains District to the market, where Kodlak and Skjor resided. They all looked anxiously to the road facing the fallen gates. Inside walked a small brigade of Dawnguard soldiers, all armed to the teeth and riddled in hateful scowls. To the front led Isran. He made a determined stance to the Jarl, who awaited his counsel with the Dawnguard.

Isran stated aloud for not just the Jarl to hear, "Jarl, would it be poor taste to say I told you so?"

"Don't you dare make light of this," scornfully growled Jarl Balgruuf, his fists clenched, "Don't you dare make a mockery of my fallen people."

"So, in short, yes, it would be. I don't attain any gladness from this, Balgruuf. I'm pleased you called for aide, even if too late. I think you and I both know this will not be the last from these fiends," divulged Isran, "But I'm sorry, besides myself this is all I can offer your city now. I am needed at the fortress as our aim is to strike the vampires directly from the source. I can't waste my energy on one city as I'm trying to save a province."

With Isran, Balgruuf counted six Dawnguard soldiers, who Isran turned to order them, "Go to the barracks all of you, start training the remaining guard and spread the crossbows. We're going to need talented archers, that is our main focus. Don't disappoint the Jarl, or me."

The vampire slaying soldiers saluted and bowed to their leader before making their way to the guard's barracks.

"Six?!" exasperated Balgruuf, "You came all this way to grant my city six of you?!"

Isran assured in a gritty tone, his voice austere like midnight, "That's all you'll need to get your guards frosty for the next attack. My men are solid and esteemed at killing vampires. They can help train your men and tighten up your defences."

Skjor raised haughtily, "What about you? You can't fight?"

"Ha. Don't believe we've met before. You want to find out if I can fight, I'll be happy to test my mettle against yours, anytime," chuckled Isran darkly at Skjor, who scowled in response. Isran continued, "Like I said. I'm fighting a war not for Whiterun, but for Skyrim. I can stay here and defend this city for years from the vampires until our strength wanes and your city crumbles to ash with your people beneath it. There's no hope in fighting if the source of the blight stays building. That is what I'm seeking and if you wish to save your city, you'll let me."

Kodlak interjected, "I apologize for my shield brother, here. Our hearts are lit in the fires of deep vengeance and rage as we see the toll of last nights raid. We wish for the destruction of the vampires as much as you, maybe even more."

Isran began to cackle darkly to Kodlak, who returned a startled gawk. Isran stated, "I'm sorry, but I don't think anyone could possibly despise those wretched beings as much as I do. I've been hunting them all my life. So, you can imagine my displeasure to see their recent skirmishes across Skyrim. I'm sorry for your kinsmen. Whiterun is a golden pillar of Skyrim. If I can gather more willing soldiers with a burning rage for the creatures like mine, we may yet be able to stop whatever their planning."

Jarl Balgruuf rejoined, "You are lacking forces?"

Isran scowled and groaned grievously, "Yes. It's surprising how many like to claim they hate vampires, then wail like a child and run at their first meeting with one. I need staunch warriors, and between the war and recent attacks from the dragons and now vampires, there isn't enough to spare. So our recruitment is slow… painfully slow."

Jarl Balgruuf glowered and claimed to Isran, "We have some of the strongest warriors within our walls, but if what you say is true; they would be of greatest use at your call, if it means stopping the vampires for good."

Kodlak looked to his Jarl and crooned, "You don't mean…"

Jarl Balgruuf confirmed to the Harbinger of the Companions as he stayed stoic, "Yes, Kodlak."

Isran asked in seldom annoyance, "What are you talking about here?"

"The Companions. The best damn fighters in Skyrim. If there is anything I can do to stop the vampires it's offering their services to you," declared Jarl Balgruuf to Isran, who raised an eyebrow at the two men to the Jarl's side, Skjor and Kodlak.

Skjor glared and blurted, "What?!"

The Jarl addressed the men to Isran, "This is Skjor and Kodlak, both accomplished fighters in Jorrvaskr. Kodlak is the Harbinger, Skjor a high ranking member of the Circle. Together, they can assemble the rest of the Circle to go with you to Dayspring Canyon." Skjor began to seethe in displeasure.

Jarl Balgruuf turned to the two men with a glare and pressed, "Their services may only be for hire, but Whiterun is their home, and vengeance boils within each of us. They will agree to this, right?"

Skjor blathered, "Of course, not!"

Kodlak said directly after, "I will go."

Skjor balked at his Harbinger who stayed valiant and undaunted to the Jarl's request. Kodlak added, "Our people died mercilessly here in their own streets. Men I used to see as children playing along the Wind District, they all died without an ounce of warning. I'll be damned to spend the last of my days within a city knowing our fate is sealed in the vampire's clasp. I'd rather die now then live like that. So, I'll go. If my shield siblings refuse, I cannot make them. Neither can you, my Jarl. But I will go of my own accord."

Skjor's face drowned in worry, as Isran held his head high in respect to the elderly warrior, and Jarl Balgruuf beamed a hopeful smile. Isran approved contently.

"Very good. I've heard grand tales of you, Kodlak. I know you won't disappoint. If you can assemble more of your comrades alongside you, it would be the god's work," Isran replied, bowing lightly to the esteemed Companion. He added, "The Jarl and I can discuss further defence tactics while you meet with your Companions on the matter. I wish you luck and Talos guide you."

Kodlak nodded to Isran as he and Jarl Balgruuf ventured up towards Dragonsreach, leaving Kodlak alone with Skjor.

Skjor spoke rashly, "Kodlak, this is a suicide mission, and you know it. What on earth are you doing?"

He proclaimed proudly, "For me? Perhaps. For the Companions, not in the slightest. You underestimate our power together, Skjor. We took back our city from those fiends, even with the unpredictability of the attack. We survived. I know we will reign victorious, together. It could be our greatest triumph."

"I won't leave," Skjor stated firmly, "I will not leave Whiterun without the Companions. Even if it's just me, I will put my city and Jorrvaskr first."

Kodlak nodded amicably and rejoined, "I respect your decision. I agree. You should stay and help the defence of Whiterun. However, Farkas and Vilkas will undoubtedly come with me, they are unwaveringly loyal. Aela may stay if she wishes but her skill with archery is the perfect weapon against the vampires. I will be pitching to them, and you cannot stop me from doing so. Ria, Athis, Torvar and Njada can stay. They are not yet ready for this kind of mission and will need the training from the Dawnguard soldiers."

Skjor replied in a grisly tone, "Mimzi, too. You forgot her."

Kodlak curled a smile and shook his head before replying, "No I didn't, how could I forget her? She has a power the Companions have never known, only dreamt of. She'll be coming with me."

Mimzi was coated in ash and soot, her face was left in sorrow from the dead bodies of men she had once drank with at the inn. Whom had let her off easy when she was caught squatting in the town limits, and familiar faces of men that helped bring down the dragon at the watch tower, and trapped Odahviing in the palace. She even felt a rot in her stomach at the dead guardsmen that once passed crude comments of her figure as she passed them on the streets. They were all simple and kind-hearted men. They left behind parents, siblings, spouses and children. Herself and Aela struggled as they lifted the last of the bodies with the other grieving guardsmen. Those that had survived gloomed in misery to the Hall of the Dead as they carried their kinsmen for burial.

Inside the crypt, Aela set the corpse of the last guard down to a coffin by his shoulders, as Mimzi laid him down gently by his feet.

"Alright… the priest and guards will take over from here," informed Aela as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. Four more guards walked in carrying Sinmir, whose heavy body required the strength of many guards to bring him to the Hall of the Dead. They strained as they put him down and clumsily dropped him hard on the ground.

Mimzi horrifyingly shrieked, "You morons! Be careful, damnit!" she irked at the disrespectful care of Whiterun's valiant dead.

One guard exclaimed, "Sorry! He's heavy!"

The priest, Andurs, ambled through the other bodies shawled on tables and in coffins, and to the body in the coffin where the two dull-eyed women stood. He carried a quill and scroll in his arms.

"Right, then," observed Andurs, he looked over to Sinmir, and scribbled to his scroll, "Sinmir… deceased…" he looked down at the guard in the coffin, a young man with a ginger beard and shaggy blonde hair. He asked to Aela, "Who is this then?"

"I…" Aela sullied as she struggled in thought, "I don't know…"

"Well does anyone know?" raised Andurs in a slighted tone, he looked over at the guards with Sinmir and squawked, "Who is this man?" he pointed down at the guard in the coffin.

"Uhh…" one guard mumbled dimly, "Dunno… he was always stationed outside the gates, but I never really talked to him."

"Can't tell ya…" another guard shrugged aloofly.

"Ottis…" stated Mimzi in a glower, "His name is Ottis. He used to patrol the plains outside Whiterun… he'd always check up on me when I lived out there. He'd make sure I'd stay safe asleep during his night patrols. No one ever talked to the Khajiits outside, but he would. Just early morning chatter, asking how their day was, asked them about Elsweyr. He loved being out in the plains because he never cared for the city life, he enjoyed the quiet. He was quiet… but a good man…sweet and caring. He deserved to be known, at least. He didn't deserve to be this. To be murdered in a vampire raid and lie in the Hall of the Dead where he can't even be identified by his own damn comrades!" she blurted at the guilt-ridden faces. Aela kept her head down in shame. Mimzi scoffed and shook her head in disgust before barging out the doors of the crypt irately, leaving the misery behind her.

Vilkas stayed to Eorland as they watched Olfina healed by Danica, the Temple of Kynerath was brimming with injured and infected individuals; leaving Danica and her fellow priestesses overwhelmed. Arcadia diligently worked at the alchemy table, brewing cure disease potions and ailments for injuries. It was a fast-paced and panicked environment, with the roar of chatter, helpless cries of pain, and frantic yelling. The seldom number of priests barked orders at each other on who to heal next, and what ailments to be used.

"How are you feeling, little flower? Do you feel any better?" asked Eorland over the clouding noise and knelt down to his daughter's side, with his hand over hers. She looked up as Danica stayed her incantation to her chest.

Olfina dimly smiled and stated, "It feels a little better, I'm still kind of tired," she raised, "But… Jon. Have you heard from Jon? Or… any of the Battle-Borns? Vilkas, have you… heard anything?"

"Olfina…" Eorland groaned, trying to stay calm for his daughter.

Vilkas interjected, "He's doing just as fine as the last time you asked, they all are. Now give it a rest, your father doesn't need to hear it every minute."

Eorland chuckled in his throat as Olfina sighed with a dim smile, "I'm sorry, pa. I know you don't like him, I'm just… worried."

"Don't be worried, little flower. Everything will be okay. We love you and we have you. That is all you need," consolingly smiled Eorland and kissed Olfina on her forehead. Danica released the spell and took her hand away, standing upright. Eorland stood up with her.

Danica informed to Eorland, "She should be cured now. Typical Sanguinare Vampiris, not hard to cure at all. She should be back to herself within the next few days."

He smiled gladly and rested his hand to his daughter's shoulder in relief. Danica pondered at Vilkas who uncomfortably avoided eye contact. Danica then pried at Vilkas's shoulder; making him jolt.

He moved himself away, and barked, "What are you doing?! Get off!"

Danica glared him down and lectured, "You have a bite, you foolish boy. Why have you not asked for healing yet? What's wrong with you, you want to become a vampire?"

"I'm fine," growled Vilkas, "Stop worrying about me, tend to those who need it."

She rejoined, "I am. You need to be healed now. Every minute passes with the illness, it becomes harder to cure. Once you become a vampire it'll be too late. Do not test me, boy. Let me heal you. I'll be damned if I let a Companion fall through the cracks over pig-headed stubbornness."

Danica lingered to Vilkas with her finger wagging scoldingly, and an incantation lit up in her other palm.

Vilkas shouted, "Stop!" and slapped her hand away instinctually, causing Danica to gasp then glare him down. He resolved as Eorland and Olfina met him in confused stares, and he said, "I'll get a potion from Arcadia, I don't like hands on me."

Danica put her hand down and crossed her arms, still glaring, and affirmed, "Clearly not. Fine, as long as you get the potion, that is. You best get to it, only a fool doesn't act on this matter immediately."

Vilkas snarled, "Whatever…" and paced passed and over the bodies of writhing villagers and guardsmen. He saw Farkas at the far side of the Temple to the doors, with his arms crossed and leaning against a pillar. He stared on at the injured with an anguished glare. Vilkas approached him and stated, "I can't be in here, anymore. The heartbeats and smell of blood is too much."

Farkas replied, "It's too much for all of us, not just you," his eyes weary at his friends who filled the temple, all bloodied and beaten, he muttered, "People are suffering."

Vilkas glowered, "The last thing any of these people need after a vampire attack is a werewolf attack in their temple. So, I'm leaving. You just stay here and stare all day, if you want. I don't care."

Farkas growled back at him crassly, "When have you ever cared?"

Vilkas shook his head and grumbled before walking towards the door, "Shut up, Farkas."

Farkas growled back, "You shut up."

Vilkas rejoined petulantly, as he opened the doors, "No, you shut up."

He was greeted to a chilled morning, and clouded sky as he walked straight to Jorrvaskr, his breath turned to mist through the brisk air. As he made his way up, he could hear the patter of small foot steps behind him to the other side of the incline. He took two glances to Mimzi, who stomped up the steps behind him; her gaze kept to her feet as she breathed hoarsely. She was still in her dress from the night before, yet it been ripped and stained in black ash and smoke. Her face and arms were also covered in soot, as herself and Aela assisted the guard in putting out the fires. Vilkas thought nothing of her until he remembered the Shout displayed in the Plains District. He couldn't help but stray glances at the young woman; knowing full well she was the Dragonborn the city had hailed for the past few months, since Last Seed. He didn't expect it to be the likes of her. An arrogant, naive, and dopy whelp.

He growled back at her as she approached the other doors, catching her attention, "You shouldn't have any problems keeping our secret, seeing you've been keeping your own."

Mimzi shot her gaze up from the ground and returned an exhausted look, "Gods, not you again. Please, my day has been worse enough, I don't need you in it too," she threw the doors open and stomped inside the hall, nearly jogging to the downstairs living quarters. Vilkas glowered as he went inside behind her.

As Mimzi beckoned the barracks she could hear chatter from inside.

Ria crooned lightly, "You think Aela was telling the truth?"

Torvar replied, sounding more sober than he usually did, "When has Aela ever lied? She must have been."

Njada grumbled to her peers, "Explains a lot. I mean, she's nothing special, I couldn't help but wonder why she was accepted so quickly and then immediately taken for her trial. Of course she's going to be the favourite, now. Why would she even join? What does she gain from it?" Mimzi stayed to the doors entrance, listening intently to their gossip.

"Why keep it a secret?" spoke up Athis, "I mean, does she think she's going to be flocked with adoring fans? Bah, not here she is. Dragonborn or not, she's still a whelp, just like us. Now she wants to use it to seem special to the Circle. What a manipulative little wench…"

Torvar warned back, "Say what you want, Athis. She's the Dragonborn. I don't know about you, knife ears, but here in Skyrim, Dragonborn deserves respect. Always."

Ria exclaimed, "So she was the one who invited that dragon here a few months ago? We all had to go into hiding till they trapped the thing. I heard that shout all the way out in the yard, it scared the life outta me!"

Njada claimed in a snide tone, "Must have been. Inviting a dragon here for what? She's a Dragonborn with impeccable judgement. Great." Athis tittered to this, as Ria and Torvar remained silent.

Mimzi scowled and emerged through the room, where their giggling hushed to silence as they gawked at her. She made her way to her drawers and pulled out fresh clothes and gathered her armour and weapons. She could feel their eyes burning into the back of her head. Mimzi pressed her lips irately and shot up at them with a piercing glare. They all everted their eyes to elsewhere as she kept pacing her glaring blue eyes to the four of them, her breath stagnant.

Mimzi then threw her things to her bed angrily, and announced with a steely tone, "Yes. I'm Dragonborn. You're all so shocked, right? Well don't worry, I'm not using my blood to get ahead with the Circle. Oh, and I called that dragon to save us from Alduin. His name is Odahviing, he's not too bad, one of the better dragons. Hmm, what else… Oh! I joined the Companions because I figured I could do some good with my skills at fighting as I can't just fight with my shouts. Let's see, and I kept it a secret to avoid this. Your stupid, slack-jawed stares and your running mouths, that I heard perfectly fine before entering this skeever den. You can judge me all you want, think less of me or think highly of me, I really don't care. Because I think we have more pressing matters than me. While you idiots stayed at Jorrvaskr, picking your asses and twiddling your thumbs— I was down there. Watching good men and women die by those… monsters! Yet, you think the most pressing topic here is me? Just great. I'm glad to know I get to bunk with such wise cracks. But please! Go on. I'll be leaving now so please talk about me all you want! I'm fine with it."

Athis, Ria, Torvar and Njada went silent and stayed their gazes away from Mimzi as she ranted. She snatched her belongings and marched out the door, huffing angrily as she did so. Outside the door was Vilkas who overheard the rant. His stare was almost sympathetic in a way, but still held a brooding scowl. She rolled her eyes and pushed passed him to get to the door upstairs.

Mimzi barged up the stairs and through the hall, passed the dining table towards the doors leading to the yard. She walked to the nearest stream and cleared the ash from her face and body. She equipped her armour and weapons then made her way to the centre of the yard with her sword drawn. Aela practiced her shooting at the archery post. As Mimzi stomped out to the yard with her sword drawn and began practicing her melee maneuvers, Aela stayed her focus to the post but began to speak passed her shoulder at Mimzi.

"Thank you for your help last night. You fought well. A lot more than what I'd expect from a whelp," announced Aela as she shot another arrow right in the centre of the post.

Mimzi fell a swipe with her sword and looked to Aela then breathed out, "Thanks, anytime the town is getting overrun by bloodsucking animals— I'm there. You fought great, too. Well, you always fight great. You're a really good shot."

Aela smirked and replied, "I am, thanks for noticing. I've been using this bow since I was a few years younger than you. My father and I used to hunt when I was little. We'd hunt anything. Eventually, it led me down the path of the Companions. Where did you learn to fight?"

Mimzi stated, "A Blade; her name was Delphine. Taught me a few things, so I'd stop getting my ass handed to me."

Aela chuckled and replied, "Ha. We've all been there. Especially someone your age, you have to get beaten to understand the strength needed to push through it. We try to do that for the whelps, but I knew you were already there when I saw you."

Mimzi sheathed her blade and asked intently, "Did you know I was Dragonborn?"

Aela looked from the post and finally turned her green eyes to Mimzi. She shook her head and replied, "No I didn't. Not till last night, at least. Don't be ashamed of your blood. It's miraculous what you are, and the others will be jealous, of course, and they'll hate and mock you. But don't let it stop you from being great. You crack mountains with the power of your Voice, while they whither in fear at the echo. I saw it for myself in the Hall of the Dead, you're a good woman. You'll be an astounding Companion, Mimzi. Don't forget it."

Mimzi's steely glare turned to a soft and warm smile, still remaining forlorn. Aela smiled back and turned to the post in earnest— continuing her training. The doors from the patio opened again and out beckoned Skjor, with a dejected look.

"Aela… Mimzi, come quick," he announced aloud to the two women and quickly fled back inside. The two women looked at each other in shared confusion, then ambled inside Jorrvaskr. The two were greeted by the rest of the Circle, and whelps. They stood before the roasting fireplace and dining table; with their arms crossed and faces torn. Kodlak stayed before them, he turned his head back to the women and greeted warmly.

"Ah, the fair heroines have arrived. Good. We can begin."

Kodlak signalled Aela and Mimzi to stand amongst the others. She stayed close to Aela, avoiding her fellow whelps as their burning scowls followed her. Vilkas and Farkas stood to the other side of the group; glancing irately at each other. Skjor stood in the middle of them. Kodlak began to sermon to the Companions.

"My brothers and sisters. Last night carried many atrocities to our city and people. We fought valiantly, but even in our fiercest moments we could not save the twenty two innocents who succumbed to the foul vampires. This failure is not the end of Whiterun's suffering; far more evil awaits our land. In time, the vampires will come back. With Whiterun's forces weakened, the city will surely fall. All we can do is hopelessly prepare with no guarantee of triumph, or we can face our villains head on, and avenge Whiterun's fallen," spoke Kodlak in a mythic tone, his voice bounced off the tall walls of Jorrvaskr's mead hall.

Vilkas, with his arms crossed and a dejected scowl— he asked cynically, "How exactly are we supposed to do that?"

Kodlak continued, "The Dawnguard, a group of staunch vampire slayers, has asked for our aid. By the order of our lord, Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, I am sworn to answer the call. This is a fight I will face alone, if need be, but if your hearts are true as I know they are, you will assist in the call and journey with me to their fortress."

Farkas crooned in worry, "Wait, what? You are going where?"

Vilkas berated in a humble tone, "Master, how could you agree to this? I mean no disrespect, but you are in no shape to be fighting the vampires in the field."

Aela exclaimed, "You expect us to just up and leave Whiterun?"

Kodlak nodded and put his hand up to hush the panicked faces, "I know this is shocking. Perhaps, you're all thinking I'm mad, or my age is finally affecting my judgement. However, my decision has been made. My fate is at the horizon of Whiterun, driving back the clamours of malicious intent from our brethren. Ysgramor's Companions were united by a greater evil, and with their steel and proud hearts, they drove that evil back into darkness. That is where our fold enters in this age. Once again, Ysgramor's Companions are sworn to the call. To defend our families and freedoms. Now, what say you?"

Skjor interjected, "I should add, I'll be staying in Whiterun to defend the city from further invasion if the monsters are dim enough to return. The whelps are staying here with me, you all need training on vampire combat. This is not a discussion."

Athis, Ria, Torvar and Njada began to uproar in disappointed pleas and sighs.

"You can't be serious?! You made us stay in Jorrvaskr last night, we didn't even fight a single vampire!" whined Ria through a shrill voice.

Athis began to uproar, "What has our training been leading up to then? This is what we are meant to do!"

Njada glared and grumbled, "This is ridiculous."

"Yeah, and what if we want to go?" shouted Torvar over the others, "I lost friends in that damn raid! We are sworn to our country and Ysgramor's call, too! Let us fight!"

"This is not up for discussion," hotly scolded Skjor, "You rabble are in no way prepared for this kind of risk. Worry about your city first. Train up and pray to the Divine's your skill at arms won't be necessary against the vampires once more. This is not a call to piss away on thirst for fame or fortune. This is about our livelihoods, our culture and our people."

Skjor glared down the four irate faces that beckoned him, while Mimzi glared down to the floor in silent anger. Kodlak looked to the three members of the Circle in earnest, and continued, "Right then, we have that squared away now it's time to ask of my Circle to join me. Vilkas, Farkas and Aela, will you accompany your old Harbinger to the fortress of the Dawnguard?"

Farkas stammered for a moment, then spoke clearly, "I'll go."

Vilkas said immediately after, "Guess that means I'm going, too."

Farkas looked to Vilkas aghast, "You think I need you to protect me? Piss off."

Vilkas chuckled and spat angrily, "I don't think, I know you'll need me to protect you. I'm going, deal with it."

Kodlak nodded with a smile, "I knew you two wouldn't disappoint me. What about you, Aela? Your skill in archery will be an important asset in the field. Will you come… or will you stay to defend Whiterun?"

Aela pondered for a moment and looked to Skjor, who held a worried, longing stare to her that eased as her green eyes met his own, she looked back to her Harbinger in a steely glare, "I'll go with you, Harbinger. To Oblivion and back."

Kodlak beamed a grin as Skjor sighed in defeat whilst looking down to the floor, "That's my girl," proudly smiled Kodlak, "You have all echoed your deeds in great pride for Whiterun. I know without a glimmer of doubt, your swords will hasten forth our victory."

Kodlak looked over slowly to Mimzi, with her eyes still to the floor and arms crossed. She glanced up at his eyes, looked around to the others before nervously staring back at Kodlak.

He proclaimed, "What say you?"

Mimzi cooed, "Me?" she glanced around to her; certain he was talking to someone else.

"Yes," affirmed Kodlak, "It is our honour to invite the Dragonborn to assist our call. Your power is mythic in legend and revered in tale. Ysgramor, himself, beckons your resolve."

Njada roared in a belligerent tone, "You have got to be kidding me!"

Athis scoffed and rolled his eyes, where Torvar and Ria remained respectful and silent to Kodlak's bidding, yet internally slighted.

Athis joined in, "Master, with all due respect, she may be the Dragonborn or what, but she's still a whelp! If she goes, it's only fair we get to go!"

"Shut it! All of you!" barked out Skjor to his recruits, that sullied their advances at Kodlak. Skjor continued in a harsh voice, "Another word out of any of you, and I'll send you outside to scrub the outhouse. Your Harbinger has made his decision, and you will serve him respect or you'll be given none."

Vilkas diligently hid a protruding snicker as Skjor scolded the whelps. Athis and Njada grumbled in irate tones, sneaking glares at Mimzi, who looked on flummoxed.

Kodlak spoke to Mimzi directly, "Will you come with the rest of the Circle to the Dawnguard fortress?"

Mimzi looked on in guilt as the fellow whelps glared at her. Farkas stared at her in a promising smile, while Vilkas kept his brooding, stale scowl. Aela looked down at her with a friendly smile, telling her with her eyes to say yes. She remembered the faces of the fallen littering the streets, the screams of Amren as his innards were torn to shreds, and the homes burned and beaten by wicked monsters. She had the gift of the Voice, and she wasn't using it. This calling would grant her the chance to use her Voice for good once more, even if it meant another journey of peril driven by an impending doom.

"I'll come," she nodded stoically. The whelps huffed in frustration, and Kodlak smiled greatly.

"Then my feeling about you was true. I knew you had a spark in your soul," brightly grinned Kodlak. He faced the full breath of his Companions and spoke aloud, "Then it is decided. We will make our journey in earnest, then. We work to avenge Whiterun. The guardsmen who fought till their last breaths, and the towns people who only leave their stories to their families. We will avenge all the suffering the monsters have caused our home, and if death beckons, our swords and shields will rise. We will fear not the shadows! We are the Companions!" Kodlak's voice rose to further heights and those who heard it trembled at the staunch words.

The Circle chanted in unison. "For Whiterun!"

"For Whiterun!"

In due haste, the five warriors readied themselves for their journey. Farkas grabbed his steel, Nordic heavy armour and equipped it with his Skyforge steel greatsword, and a steel shield. Vilkas packed a satchel full of cure disease potions, tomes on vampire lore and torches, and equipped a bow and quiver. Aela filled her quiver with steel arrows and sheathed a boot knife. Kodlak brought along his books for his research, and sheathed his steel Skyforge sword that was dusted for months on his weapon rack. Mimzi loaded her satchel with food such as cheese, bread and apples. She snuck in two bottles of mead. As the five prepared to leave, Skjor approached Aela as she rummaged in her bedroom for more things to bring.

"Aela," coolly said Skjor as he sauntered into her room with a gloom look, "You're certain you think this is best? You won't be able to use your beast around the boys and Kodlak— never mind the Dawnguard. Vampires… they are a force to be reckoned with. I fear for you."

Aela looked up from her bag and sighed deeply and eased her eyes at Skjor, "I'm not certain of much, anymore. I am certain that I do not shrink in fear at the unknown. You say what you like about the old man, but he's the greatest harbinger I've ever known, and I'd follow him into Oblivion if he only asked me."

Skjor crooned, "And what if I asked you?" he came closer to Aela and placed his hands to hers. She softly pressed her fingers into his palms and looked down with a solace smile as his rough hands caressed hers.

"Skjor…" Aela purred nervously.

His hands went up to the ginger hair that lingered to her face; and gently folded the locks behind her ears. Skjor muttered, "I know you don't wish to air our relationship to the others, and I feel I've done well in respecting that."

Aela smiled, "You have."

Skjor lamented sadly, "You've given my call to the beastblood a new meaning. A mate at my side during the hunt has bequeathed a new sense of purpose. I feel a strong yearning to protect you, but this… I can't shield you from. I feel like I'm losing you if you walk through those gates with the others. I'll be left here with only worry in my heart. I don't know how I'll lead this rabble without the comfort of you in the next room."

Aela chuckled softly, "Oh, Skjor. All your tough talk and ruggedness really does boil down to a soft heart. You don't need to worry about me, you should know I am a force to be reckoned with, with or without the wolf."

Skjor nodded and creased a grin, "That you are."

Aela placed her hand to Skjor's cheek, his eyes wilted but remained dull; fighting the emotion that flood through from the warmth of her touch. He gently leaned into her hand, and she said softly, "Don't worry while I'm gone. Keep your sword hand strong and keep the hunt. Hircine's boon will always protect you. And I will always love you, no matter how far my trails take me." Skjor leaned into Aela and kissed her softly on the lips— a silent farewell that spoke volumes to the two warriors.

Vilkas hiked up his satchel over his shoulder as his armour tinged up the stairwell to the main mead hall. Farkas awaited at the doors already, leaning against a pillar and tapping his foot restlessly. He noticed Vilkas coming up and stood straight, but still remaining unapproachable. Vilkas sighed as he scowled at Farkas, and everted eye contact. He sat on a chair a few feet from his brother, where the silence of the two flooded the room in tension. Even Tilma left her duties to escape the stressful aura of the two men, scowling angrily at each other.

Farkas finally grumbled to Vilkas, "You sure you can keep it together around a bunch of monster slayers?"

Vilkas scoffed and shook his head, looking away from Farkas. He replied in a low husky tone, "I should be asking you that. You being so eager to transform when it suits you."

Farkas barked aloud, "At least I don't sop the floors in my own sweat when I hear a heartbeat."

Vilkas returned in a sharp tone, "Well if you bothered to ask, you'd know I'm doing better today."

Farkas snarled, "Really? Could have fooled me."

"Just stop," snapped Vilkas, "I'm done arguing with you. You're a damn child."

Farkas grumbled, "You're a jackass. I'm done arguing and talking to you."

"Fine," sneered Vilkas.

"Fine," grumbled Farkas under his breath. The two stayed in silence as they awaited their shield siblings to leave for the Dawnguard. Kodlak crept up the steps to the doors where the brothers remained, still seething. He sauntered up to them and immediately caught notice of the strained relationship between the two.

Kodlak announced to the twins, breaking the silence, "You two. You know, I haven't seen you fight like this in years. Not since you were boys. But you're men, now. It's time to put your hatred aside and work together if we have any hope of victory."

Vilkas scoffed in response, "Hmph."

Farkas rolled his eyes and stayed his glare down to the floor. Up the steps came Mimzi, cluttering with her bags and weapons; still adjusting them under her travelling cloak. She breathed hoarsely as she ambled to the three, who met her in varied stares.

Farkas greeted her amicably, "Hey, Mimzi. You ready?"

She replied, "Oh yeah, I'm ready. Pretty sure I packed enough… I hope," she was still adjusting her bulging bag.

Vilkas asked her sternly, "Did you pack cure disease potions? You'll need them."

Mimzi went stunned and panicked, "Uhh… no."

Kodlak wondered, "Camping supplies, then?"

Mimzi smiled nervously, "Umm… nope."

Kodlak rejoined, "What is all that, then?" his brows furrowed at her brimming knapsack.

Mimzi pattered and crooned, "Food… mostly. I eat a lot."

Vilkas, Farkas and Kodlak returned baffled stares at Mimzi, who quickly added, "But I can share! I mean, if any of you need food, I got you covered! It's a long way to the Rift."

Vilkas grumbled under his breath, "This is the Dragonborn… Divine's help us," he winced, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Farkas chuckled, "Ha-ha, you're a good egg, Mimzi."

Kodlak affirmed, "Of course, Mimzi. Food is just as valuable as potions or tools."

Mimzi smiled dopily, still fussing with her bags. Aela emerged from the stairwell, fully equipped in her supplies as she met the rest at the doors.

"Alright, we going then?" she asked to the others as she approached.

"Yes, with no further ado, let's be off," proclaimed Kodlak to his shield siblings as they made their way out Jorrvaskr and into the cool streets of Whiterun, where a smokey haze and gloomed emptiness still stayed over its inhabitants. Isran awaited at the broken gates that lay in embers to the entrance of the city. He beckoned the five warriors as they eagerly approached him. An armed redguard in burgundy and brown armour, with the Dawnguard emblem over his cloak.

"So…" Isran exclaimed in a deep, growly voice, "These are our warriors then. Hmm… varied options indeed."

Kodlak nodded to the redguard as he addressed the four, "Yes, these are my finest members of the Companions. Aela, here, is an exceptional huntress, she can take down nearly anything with her skill at a bow and brimming wits."

Aela spoke up, "That I can. Nice to meet you, finally."

Isran nodded as Kodlak addressed the others, "The brothers are Farkas and Vilkas. Farkas has the strength of 10 men. He can kill with his bare fists, alone. Vilkas here, is brilliant. A great investigator. He has a fierce heart in battle, to boot."

Isran shook their hands, Farkas rattled Isran with a firm shake as Vilkas lazily shook still keeping a discontent glare. Isran nodded and replied, "Very good. Strong pillars of men, just what we need. It'll take me a while to tell you two apart, though. But still… very good."

Kodlak turned to Mimzi and addressed her, "And this is Mimzi, our newest whelp. She is Dragonborn, as it appears. I'm sure she'll be a valuable asset against the vampire menace."

Isran scoffed at the young, docile Nord girl before grumbling, "We're not slaying dragons, Kodlak. But still… I'm sure that 'Shout' or whatever it is, will come in handy. Can't say she'll be good at much else with those dainty, little hands."

Mimzi scowled in response but held her tongue, certain not to offend the vampire slayer out of courtesy to Kodlak.

"Right then," Isran continued, "It's nearly a day's ride to Dayspring Canyon from here. I hope you lot have horses, because that's how we came."

Kodlak affirmed, "We do."

"Good," Isran concluded, "Let's make haste."

The six warriors made their way to the stables and saddled their steeds. Mimzi greeted an excited Sunshine with a hug to her muzzle and plucked an apple from her knapsack for the mare to munch on before saddling her. They mounted their horses and Isran took the lead towards the Rift, travelling swiftly on horseback through the plains. Slowly their clouded city of smoke and desolation was left behind the horizon. The skies stayed blanketed in looming clouds and the cold; winter air of Morning Star reddened their cheeks. As they reached the border of Eastmarch, Isran slowed his horse, and they began to trot through the volcanic wastes, keeping a sharp lookout for giants and other dangers. Kodlak rode close behind Isran, where Aela lingered in the middle, with Farkas trotting closely next to her, and Vilkas and Mimzi at the back.

Kodlak asked to Isran, "What will be our first mission when we arrive?"

He replied huskily, "Right now, I'm looking into rumours of a place called Dimhollow Crypt. It's supposed to be infested with vampires. Possibly pursuing a relic of some kind— a weapon or tool. We need to find out where it is so we can infiltrate before the vampires find what their looking for."

Kodlak rejoined earnestly, "What could they be looking for? What is this tool?"

Isran informed, "If I knew, I'd have it in my clasp as we speak. My guess, nothing good. I won't know more until we get back."

Vilkas rode to the back of Mimzi, keeping quiet as they trotted along the dusty surface of the volcanic wastes. He shuddered at the thought of housing with vampire slayers, who would undoubtedly hate werewolves, as well. His heart still raced from the smell of blood, and the beating heart of Mimzi flustered his head. He knew it was only a matter of time before another episode started, and he'd be in distress for all the Dawnguard to see. He began to pick up pace passed Mimzi. She looked to her left as he passed; his head down and lost in thought. She balked at the sight of the bite into Vilkas's neck.

Mimzi informed to him, "You have a bite," she stayed aloof, not wanting to come off as too concerned to the crass Nord.

Vilkas snapped, throwing a glare to her, "What?"

Mimzi croaked, "A bite. You get that looked at?"

Vilkas scoffed and rolled his eyes, "You know our secret, you fool, so why are you telling me this?"

Mimzi pressed her lips and groaned, "Nevermind, I actually didn't know if that stopped you from turning or not. Remind me to stop talking to you."

Vilkas glowered and sighed. His breath released the tension to his face and shoulders before relenting, "No… we can't get the disease, we're immune. We're immune to most diseases, just another 'boon' to this curse. You, on the other hand, you can get infected almost immediately. Which is why you should have packed cure disease potions."

Mimzi grumbled, keeping her gaze to the front of the convoy, "Yeah, I figured. Whatever… I'll manage."

"Don't worry about it," gruffly stated Vilkas, "I packed a few. Figured you'd need extra; in case you ran out. That is, if you'd packed any in the first place."

Mimzi smiled in relief, "Thanks… Hard to believe you were actually considering me, but thanks."

"You're our whelp," added Vilkas, "It's my job to look out for you, despite how irritating you may be."

Mimzi grumbled sarcastically in a low, exaggerated voice, "Oh, well, thank the Divine's for you."

This created an amused smirk to Vilkas's face which he tried to conceal, "Don't mention it…" he smugly teased, "I take pity on the daft."

Mimzi smirked and pithily snapped back, "I take pity on the depressing. Do you ever smile?"

"Not really," Vilkas grumbled, which turned to a light smile to Mimzi, "Only rarely."

"Well, would you look at that…" Mimzi feigned astonishment at Vilkas, who pressed his lips and looked away, she teased him, "A smile! I'm surprised your face didn't crack, did it hurt?" she chuckled heartily as Vilkas looked back at her with a rested smirk.

He huskily muttered as he diligently fought a smile, "Shut up."

She giggled wholesomely, relieved to have finally made a positive interaction with Vilkas that wasn't threats or passing scowls. She snatched an apple at her knapsack, but with his company, she grabbed another one. She threw it up to him and he caught it, and he returned a faint smirk. They both ate from their apples in content silence.

They made their way through the throes of Eastmarch, where autumn-coloured leaves, that flourished off their branches and over their path, began to appear.

Farkas and Aela rode alongside each other. He kept his concerned eyes to Kodlak, scared that any minute he'd flop off his horse from the Rot.

He muttered to Aela, "You sure the old man is thinking clearly here…?"

She staunchly replied, "No, I don't. I have no idea if this is where we should be, or if he's trailing us along on a suicide mission. I honestly can't decide, all I know is he's Kodlak. He's our old man. There's nowhere I'd rather be than honouring his call."

Farkas blathered, innocently watching his father figure ride ahead, "Last time he fought was when? Three years ago? Now he wants to go vampire hunting with Dawnguard. I don't want to lose him, Aela."

She remarked, "Neither do I, Farkas. None of us want to lose him. But we'll follow the old man's word, as ever. He may have the Rot, but he's still the same Kodlak I've always known. If he thinks this mission is best for us, then I won't argue." She kept her head held high as her horse trotted against the path.

Evening slowly dimmed the skies as the sun began to set across the Rift. Isran barked aloud to those behind, "We're coming up to the cave, soon. Keep an eye on the shadows!"

Mimzi stared in awe at the glistening leaves of gold and brown atop the trees. The sun shined generously through the branches as it gently set over the horizon. Vilkas still rode to her side, and he stayed his glance to Farkas, who ignored his presence for the entirety of the ride, yet his seldom company with Mimzi was enough to distract him from the discontent.

"So…" Vilkas asked to Mimzi, "When did you find out you were… Dragonborn?"

Mimzi looked back to him and shrugged, thinking back to her grim moments in Last Seed. Spurts of memories of Alduin's furled wings appeared. She could see herself on the chopping block at Helgen staring up in utter horror as he soared just above. Delphine beckoning her from the Sleeping Giant, and the dragon fight outside Whiterun at the Western Watchtower. She could see herself being chased through the grove as the pursuing dragon flew over head. She snapped back to her reality and spoke.

Mimzi stated, "Like… five months ago. When the dragon attacked the western watchtower."

He replied aloofly, "Of course, those were grim days, indeed. That was shortly after word of Helgen. Guards were coming up to Jorrvaskr, especially friends of my brothers, speaking of this 'Dragonborn' that shouted the dragon to its back. I thought it was just flight of fancy, but soon after, more stories were shared. Two separate attacks on Kynesgrove and Rorikstead; but the Dragonborn slain both beasts," Vilkas made a bewildered glare and confided, "Then that dragon was called to the city… A guard came to Jorrvaskr and told us to get underground, but I didn't listen. A dragon coming to Whiterun? I was prepared to fight if it came down to it. I saw the whole thing from the yard. The beast was larger than life, like it could eat the sun out of the sky. Then a second terrible, thunderous sound was heard, pulling it to the ground of the palace. That was you?"

Mimzi pressed her lips and nodded, "Yup."

Vilkas replied, baffled to comprehend it, "You did that all… by yourself?"

Mimzi slighted, "No… I always had help. Sad to be a Dragonborn and not kill a dragon entirely yourself, huh? That's what you're thinking?"

Vilkas shook his head and snickered, "Not at all. I was just thinking how hilarious it would be to see you Shout at a dragon."

Mimzi balked and asked, "What?"

"Come on," Vilkas broke out in a chuckle, his grin revealing his teeth and dimples to his cheeks, "Such a large force from such a small person, bringing down an entire dragon. I just pictured it… thought it was funny."

Mimzi began to snicker in response, "Shut up… it wasn't funny. Maybe… okay, well imagine all that and me being flung left and right holding onto dear life by one of their heads. I kid you not, I nearly went flying…"

Vilkas began to break out in a chortle in his throat, suppressing the laughter, "It sounds like the time I saw Farkas flailing around his leg, because his pet skeever had its teeth in his ankle."

Mimzi broke out in fits of giggles as she imagined it in her head. To think how many moments of her fighting off dragons, she could have easily been compared to an unruly pest to them. She chortled along with Vilkas, who was also engaged in warm laughter.

She chuckled, "Oh gods… don't compare me to a skeever, I hate those damn things."

Their laughter deflated as they beckoned through the woods into darker reaches. Mimzi stared up at the blanketing forestry. She shuddered at the darkness and feared the red eyes that could appear within it.

She cooed, "Look to the sun… and the shadows fall behind you," she almost uttered it to herself, as she glared into the abyss, afraid of what could be lurking within.

Vilkas stated, his face shrouded in the darkness, "That's… profound. If a bit random."

Mimzi looked back to him, "Just something I heard once. I've never trusted the dark. Definitely won't, now."

Vilkas replied, snarling out to the darkened groves, "Given the situation, it's fitting."

The warriors halted as Isran stopped and led his horse through a large crack of stone leading into a tunnel. The five hopped off their horses and led them through, as well, beckoning the light that remained to the other side.

Aela muttered, "The fortress is through… here?" her voice echoed off the walls of the cave.

"Just you wait…" Isran replied, breaching a smile. Through the tunnel it opened into a vast valley adorned in autumn and pine trees, and shoaling cliffs. They continued down the path which revealed a magnificent vista of waterfalls coming off the mountain side, filling into a body of water. Looking over the mountains and ahead of their inclining path were giant, adjoining towers made of mortar and stone. The towers were aligned in arrow slits and cradled the main keep.

Mimzi awed at the majestic sight of the behemoth fortress, "Wow…" she gasped, "Cool."

Isran explained, "This fortress was left behind by the ancient Dawnguard. I've been assembling this abandoned keep into the fortress it once was. You can say it's my pet project, well… something to do besides gutting every vampire to walk the face of the earth," he stayed stoic, glimpsing at the towers in seldom pride.

They beckoned to the keep where only a few Dawnguard soldier's trained in the yard, and rested by a small fire pit. The fortress was almost abandoned.

Vilkas grumbled, "So much space… so little to occupy it."

They left their horses to the stables outside the keep doors, and Isran led them to the Dawnguard soldiers awaiting at the large entrance. An orc, and a Breton. Mimzi recognized the two soldiers right away, the faces she'd seen in Whiterun's Wind District, and outside Movarth's Lair. Celann and Durak.

Durak claimed to his leader, "Ha. You leave with half our brigade and come back with this? Gotta say, our men looked a lot stronger than these city Nords. An old man, two women, and a pair of twins?"

"These are Whiterun's finest, as I'm told. These are the Companions of Jorrvaskr, I'm sure their skills will be revealed when it's tested in battle," defended Isran back to his comrades, who began to crowd and gawk at the newcomers with silent judging.

"The Companions? Didn't we just have a run in with you lot?" raised Celann, then looked to Farkas and Mimzi, "You two…"

Farkas nodded, "Nice to see you again. We're joining up."

Durak guffawed at Mimzi, "Nice to see you're not carrying this one on your back. Bear trap bite healed pretty quickly, huh?"

The Dawnguard scattered in laughter at Mimzi's expense, who crossed her arms, and her eyes went droll. She muttered in annoyance, "I'm not going to outlive that, am I?"

"Probably not…" quietly snickered Vilkas as he passed her to go inside the great fortress with the others.

"Come…" Isran beckoned to the others as the great doors flew open and clanged against the stone. They marvelled at the inside of the keep and the circular, spacious, hollow chamber. It was mortared in dark stone. It had adjoining, arched entryways to other halls of the fortress, and stairwells to the higher upper level which was railed in steel fencing. The chamber was adorned in banners with the Dawnguard emblem of a steel shield in fiery rays, like the sun. It was lit dimly— mostly by the hole in the roof above the ceiling revealing the gloom of the two moons, and the candlelight in adjoining halls. There were crates and barrels all along the walls of the centre, and a cistern under the metal crate floors they stood on. Large spider webs stayed to the walls and ridges of stone, as if life had just started to make reign there. Every step of their boots and clang of their rattling armour echoed loudly against the high ceilings. Weapon racks kept crossbows, dawnguard weapons, while armour sat lazily on the crates. Vilkas, Aela and Farkas looked to the custom-made weapons grimly.

Aela uttered, "Is that…" she glared at the hammers, swords and war axes onto the weapon racks.

"Silver," dourly observed Vilkas, his face distraught and grumbled, "This was a foolish idea…"

Farkas muttered, "Guess we're sticking with our Skyforge steel, then…"

A roaring fire place was straight forward into the next chamber where the living quarters resided, and to the left was the kitchen. Isran turned to the warriors that continued to stare in awe at the vast reaches of the fortress.

"Make yourselves at home…" he chimed, "There's a training quarters down the hall to the right. Get yourselves accustomed to the space, train up and try at our crossbows. When you're not sleeping, eating or sitting on the latrine, I expect you all to be training against the vampires. Your Harbinger and I will make sure of that. Won't we, Kodlak?"

Kodlak nodded, glimpsing to his fellow Companions, "Of course. This is your fort, after all. We'll be respectful guests."

Kodlak and Isran ventured together to the stairwell up the upper level. Vilkas marched urgently to the right hall to find the training quarters— already drawing his sword. Aela quickly followed, where Farkas looked back at Mimzi.

"This is a lot, right?" he raised deeply, "Kinda makes me nervous being in a fortress full of monster slayers…"

"They all look so… serious," she irked, "Jorrvaskr has friendlier faces than this, and that's saying something."

"I'm glad you came… makes me feel a bit better. You're probably the only friendly face here… I'm a little freaked out," gloomed Farkas dejectedly.

Mimzi consoled, "You don't need to be, they ain't hunting you. You guys will be fine. Go on without me, I'm going to look around for a bit. This place is huge!"

Farkas chuckled in disbelief, "Damn right. Don't take too long. I don't want that Isran yelling at you. He's scary."

Mimzi giggled and nodded, "I'll be okay. See you soon."

Farkas jogged into the hallway to catch up to the others, while Mimzi stayed in the circle. She felt afraid, but did not wish to air it for Farkas or any of the others. She knew her rattled nerves would come to show in the training yard, so she kept to herself in hopes she'd grow accustomed to the space. She turned right where the others went down a hall way to the training yard. She went straight up a winding stairwell, instead of following the others. It were lit with candles. To the top of the upper level she gasped in fascination at the view below. From her heights she could see the glimmer of stars out the hole of the ceiling and feel the fresh sweep of wind blow inside. She rested to the railing and looked straight down. Mimzi felt her knees numb slightly at the sheer depth of the ground below. Her hair dangled to the front of her face and she pressed onto her tip toes to look down. She could hear talking between Kodlak and Isran in the room to the other side of the railing. She walked slowly to overhear the conversation, where another voice which was unfamiliar began to speak.

"Kodlak, this is Tolan," Isran addressed, "A Vigilant of Stendarr. Tolan, this is Kodlak, Harbinger of the Companions. As you can see, I have all the help I need. We can investigate this Dimhollow Crypt, for you. You can find solace for your… comrades, elsewhere."

The man pleaded shakily, "That's not why I came here, Isran. You know why. The vampires are much more dangerous than we believed."

Isran growled deeply, "And now you want to come crawling to safety with the Dawnguard? I remember Keeper Carcette telling me repeatedly that Fort Dawnguard is a crumbling ruin. Not worth the expense and manpower to repair. You lot stirred the vampires up against you, so you come begging for my pardon?" Mimzi pressed herself to the wall before the entry to listen, intently.

Tolan quaked, "Isran, Carcette is dead. The Hall of the Vigilants… everyone… they're all dead. You were right, we were wrong. Is that enough for you?"

"Yes, well…" Isran admitted stoically, "I never wanted any of this to happen. I tried to warn all of you… I am… sorry, you know."

Kodlak spoke up, "So where is this Dimhollow Crypt?"

Isran glowered and said, "There is arrangements that still need to be made. We act rashly, your fresh-faced Companions down there will surely get more than they bargained for. These aren't mutt bloodsuckers, Kodlak. These are ancient vampires. We need to make sure when we enter that crypt we are prepared. You all need more training first."

Tolan added, "Brother Adalvald was certain they were keeping some ancient vampire artifact down there. We didn't listen to him anymore than we did Isran… he was at the hall when it was attacked."

Isran replied and claimed to Kodlak, "Sounds good enough to me. Your girls and boys can spend a few days here, first. Get to know more on vampire skirmishing. That little doe-eyed redhead needs some more meat on her bones— looks frail as parchment."

Mimzi seethed silently at the wall as she kept listening.

Kodlak stated, "Very well, it'll give them some time to understand what's being asked of them, anyway."

Tolan interjected, "Well, while you lot prepare, I'm not wasting anymore time not avenging my fallen comrades. I'll be at Dimhollow Crypt by dawn."

"Tolan…" Isran groaned, "I don't think that's such a good idea. You Vigilants were never trained for…"

In an instant, Tolan erupted, "I know what you think of us! You think we're soft, that we're cowards. You think our deaths proved our weakness. Stendarr grant that you do not have to face the same test and be found wanting! I'm going to Dimhollow Crypt. Perhaps I can be of some small assistance to you." Tolan snarled, and marched out the quarters, where Mimzi balked and pressed her back flat to the wall as Tolan walked to the right with his back to her- seemingly unaware of her presence.

Kodlak muttered worrisome, "You're not going to stop him?"

Isran declared, "The Vigilants like to speak as if they are made of daedra's nightmares, but they're the farthest from it. If he wants to go into that pit, let him. Just remind your Companions not to trip over his ravaged corpse when they go in."

Kodlak raised in a steely tone, "You'd let a man walk to his death knowingly?"

Isran snarled back, "I'm not going to sacrifice my assets to save a Vigilant. You came here to fight vampires, not throw yourselves at them because of some fool who was warned again and again, and then one more time. If you care for your Companions, you'll make sure we have the chance to suit them up before they go into a damn ancient vampire crypt."

Mimzi crept away from the wall and began to step back to the stairwell. She was troubled at the conversation that had transpired. She followed Tolan as he made his way out the Dawnguard fortress in haste. He wore Vigilant robes ribboned over steel armour, and a great hammer over his back. He was older than fifty, with a white, mutton chopped beard to the sides of his face and a balding scalp. Mimzi kept at him as he walked down the trail towards the tunnel.

As they cleared from the Dawnguard Fort and passed the springs, Mimzi called out to him and began to jog, "Hey! Wait up!"

Tolan stopped and looked back, confusion on his scowl, "Who are you?"

Mimzi caught up whilst breathing heavily, "Hi… I'm… coming with you."

"What?" balked Tolan, "Why? Who are you?"

"I'm Mimzi, I'm one of the Companions… I overheard the conversation you had with Isran. He seems pretty sure you're gonna die in there alone. So… I'm gonna come with you," panted Mimzi, resting her hands to her hips.

Tolan stated amicably, "You were eavesdropping."

Mimzi shook her head and lied, "What? No!" she stared at Tolan's steely gaze before relenting and breathing out, "Okay, yeah, I was. But… everyone needs a sword at their back, sometimes. I don't look like much but I'm strong and I'm scrappy. What do you say?"

Tolan crossed his arms and stuck his chin up at the young Nord and stated, "I'm not babysitting you in there. You come in with me, you fight with every shred of strength you have."

She nodded and stared intently, "Yes, sir."

Tolan perked up and affirmed, "Alright then, follow me."

Mimzi silently cheered to herself as she followed Tolan, finally pleased to be taking the fight back to the vampires that ravaged her home and killed her friends. Mimzi saddled up Sunshine, as Tolan saddled his own horse and led them through the cave tunnel and to the Rift's autumn groves in the chilling night.