Yazir is a member of the Vigilants of Stendarr. Having grown up in Honorhall, the light of Stendarr found the Redguard and led to him joining the Vigil. When the Hall of the Vigilants is destroyed in a coordinated vampire attack, Yazir must join forces with the Dawnguard to exact his revenge on the creatures of the night who took away the only family he ever knew.
Rated M for violence, language and future sexual content. A slight deviation from my previous works, this tale is more of an adventure/love story than 50/50 smut and adventure, although there will be some sexual content in the appropriate chapters. Although this project is meant to focus more on character development as well as developing actual relationships, it shares the same universe as my Skyrim: Blood and Lust project and is meant to for me to practice connecting different stories in a shared universe as opposed to just alternating POV. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1: The Hall of the Vigilant
Yazir moved quietly through the Bannered Mare. It was the last hour of Sundas, and Mikael the Bard had conned some poor woman into taking him home that night, so the inn was empty aside from the serving girl Saadia sweeping behind the bar. Yazir waited for his fellow Redguard to turn her back to the door, and he snuck quietly past her to the stairs that led to the large room overlooking the firepit in the middle of the inn.
He crept quietly up the stairs, and paused just before the closed door, listening hard. He heard a soft slurping sound, followed by a quiet, weak moan. To any other citizen it may have sounded like a couple having intimate relations, but Yazir knew better. Keeper Carcette had requested him personally for this assignment. Yazir held his crossbow with one hand, and opened the door slowly when he heard the slurping resume. The crossbow wasn't a common Vigil weapon. Yazir had won it from an old friend, Celann, not long after the latter had abandoned the Vigil to join the newest incarnation of the Dawnguard.
Yazir had scoffed at the news when Celann had shared it. What a waste, he had thought. Of course vampires are dangerous, he had told his friend. But vampires didn't cause the Oblivion Crisis. The real enemy is the daedra. The Vigilant shook his head to clear his thoughts. How many times had he told his own brother that losing focus for even a moment could mean death for any of the Vigil?
When Yazir was sure it was safe to continue he crept into the room, silent as a mouse. Laying on the bed was a Nord woman with golden hair, and bright blue eyes that seemed to glow in the firelight. She was naked and lying spread eagle on the bed. The fur blankets were stained a deep, dark red, and she had bite marks on her arms, legs, and other areas that made Yazir burn with rage. On either side of her, a pair of vampires lapped the blood that was still oozing from her various wounds.
The vigilant cursed silently. He had expected only a single vampire, and this mission was covert so he was unable to use magic while there were others so near. He knew that once he fired his crossbow the second vampire would be on him like a cave bear on a traveler. The woman moaned once more, and Yazir knew she was close to death. Stendarr, help me.
He aimed carefully, and fired. His bolt took one vampire in the back, piercing its heart. It died without a sound. Its partner stood, and hissed at Yazir, flashing a pair of bloody fangs. Sure enough, no sooner had Yazir drawn another crossbow bolt from behind his back, than the vampire was upon him. It was already too late for the monster. As soon as it grasped Yazir in its arms ready to bite, the vigilant stabbed it in the heart with the bolt. It too died without a sound.
Yazir released the breath he had been holding, and walked over to the woman. Her eyes stared at the chandelier on the ceiling. She was dead. The Redguard bowed his head and whispered a quick prayer for the woman before covering her body. He left the vampire's bodies behind as well. Let the town be reminded that evil lurked in all corners of the realm. He made his way back down the stairs and snuck from the Bannered Mare, making his way to the Drunken Huntsman. Once back in his rented room, the Redguard took a large swig from his wine bottle before discarding his crossbow. He fell onto the bed, and allowed sleep to take him.
*
The journey to the Hall of the Vigilant from Whiterun was not a long one. On horseback, it was only a day's ride, but Yazir had not woken until well past the 9th hour, and then had spent another hour in the market so he knew he would not return to the Hall until after sunset. He had promised his brother Nizaam a new silver sword, and Adrienne made the finest in Whiterun in his opinion. He would never spend his coin on anything from the Skyforge. A smith who crafts weapons for werewolves, is no better than the beasts he arms for war, Yazir thought venomously. The redguard purchased the sword and exited the city, heading towards the stables where his horse rested. The vigilant was content knowing that Keeper Carcette had plans for the inner Circle of the Companions.
As he spurred his horse into a gallop, the redguard thought of the rumors he had heard over the past month. There had been rumors of a new Dragonborn circulating all around Skyrim, although no one seemed to know for sure who he or she was. Yazir knew that not that long ago a traveling orc had saved Whiterun from a dragon attack. Maybe he was the new Dragonborn. Rumor had it that the orc had left Whiterun in the companionship of Aela the Huntress as well as Uthgerd the Unbroken. Yazir swore to himself that if the orc were the new Dragonborn, he would do well to avoid contracting the Beast Blood. Dragonborn or not, Yazir would see him cured or destroyed if needed.
He turned his thoughts towards the brother he had left behind. Nizaam was several years younger than Yazir, but he had followed his brother out of Honorhall when Grelod the Kind had kicked the elder out once he had come of age many years ago. With no money, or prospects for them in Riften, the pair had made for Snow-Shod Farm seeking work. The choice had almost killed them. During a storm, the pair got turned around, and it was only by sheer luck they found themselves near Stendarr's Beacon when they were ambushed by a pair of vampires. Patrolling vigilants had come to their rescue. Impressed by the boys' tenacity, they had both been invited to join the Vigil.
With a warm bedroll and food to fill their bellies, it was a dream come true for the brothers. Eager to prove himself so that he could guarantee the security of his younger brother, Yazir had taken to their new life quickly. Nizaam on the other hand, had been forced to continue training with wooden swords until only last year, just after his 20th year. The elder brother looked forward to continuing helping his younger sibling train when he returned. Perhaps owning his own sword instead of a Vigil hand-me-down would be the final piece of motivation Nizaam needed to push himself to the next level. Yazir spurred his horse faster, eager to return to his brothers.
*
It was well past sunset when Yazir was nearing the Hall of the Vigilant. Despite the darkness that covered the land, he could see plumes of smoke rising up in the glow of the moons from the direction of the Hall. That's odd, he thought. Only the Beacon of Stendarr normally kept a large fire going throughout the night. The Hall did not hold the same practice. Yazir's heart dropped as the Hall finally came into sight. No no no! He thought frantically. The entire structure had been reduced to cinders. The smoldering ruins crackled from the still-burning wood. Yazir leapt from his horse, and ran for the remains, drawing his crossbow as he went.
The first thing he saw as he entered what remained of the structure was the head of Keeper Carcette sitting on a smoldering table. Dried blood caked the table, and surrounding floor. Bodies were scattered all around the inside. Yazir saw many of his comrades lying dead on the floor, but his eyes continued to scan the area. In a corner of the room, Carcette's body lay with her mace in her hand. Next to it, another figure in Vigilant robes lay face down with a hole in his chest where his heart used to be. Please Stendarr no, Yazir thought desperately. He set his crossbow to the side and dropped to one knee. He turned the corpse over--and looked into the blank eyes of his brother Nizaam. Yazir howled like the werewolves he had sworn to kill, as he cradled his brother's body in his arms.