Authors Notes:

Hello! Sorry for the late update, I rewrote sections of this chapter several times. Finally getting this story going!

Please, leave a review and any comments for improvement.

Chapter 3 - Dawnguard

After leaving Kynesgrove, Nightingale headed straight for Fort Dawnguard, determined to arrive as quickly as he could. He continued south and he knew that the second half of the journey would be quicker as he no longer had to deal with ice, snow, and the aggressive blizzards. While he appreciated that his pace would increase, Nightingale would slightly miss the treacherous conditions as he enjoyed the pain and discomfort that came with it.

Due to the war, dragons, and now a recent uptick in vampire activity, the roads of Skyrim have been almost abandoned by the common traveler. Nightingale preferred it this way, not the chaos that had ensnared Skyrim, no, rather he enjoyed the quiet that came with the emptiness of the roads.

Nightingales pace hadn't wavered since leaving Kynesgrove, he left in a hurry after killing the man who had terrified the innkeeper, to avoid the local guard from speaking with him. He didn't regret killing the man, he only wished that he had stocked up on supplies before he left the town.

Riften is on the way to Fort Dawnguard, perhaps I should stop by the guild for supplies and information. Nightingale thought to himself. No, not the guild, too many people, my house should have more than enough to get me through the next few days.

Nightingale approached Riften on the west side and stuck to the shadows as he walked beside the large stone walls that surrounded the city. He moved quickly and quietly making sure not to draw any attention to himself from the guards patrolling along the top of the walls. This was no challenge to a master thief and an agent of Nocturnal, rather, it was child's play. Nightingale continued on this trajectory until he came to the corner of the stone wall, knowing that as soon as he rounded the corner he would be at the main gate and stables, Nightingale paused.

Peering around the corner, Nightingale noticed the pair of guards stationed at the city's entrance and just in front of them was a carriage driver who was waiting for his next passenger. Nightingale contemplated the ideas of waiting for the guards and driver to move or attempting to slip by them unnoticed. Deciding that time was of the essence, Nightingale cast an invisibility and muffle spell combo that would make him virtually undetectable to anything nearby. He slipped around the corner and snuck behind the guards stationed at the main gate without causing even the slightest disturbance to his surroundings. Deciding that opening the main gate would draw too much attention and waiting for someone else to open it would take too long, Nightingale headed towards the lake where he could use the backdoor of his house.

Again sticking to the shadows casted by the trees, approaching the shore was a simple task. Once he arrived at the shore he could see the wooden fishing docks and the staircase that led to his private outdoor patio. As he climbed the stairs the wood would creak below the weight of his feet, thankfully the sound was drowned out by the fishery and the dock workers going about their day.

Nightingale reached his door and entered his house, he never locked the doors as it would be foolish to attempt to rob him, his reputation heavily preceded him in Riften. He entered his house on the upper level in his bedroom which was directly attached to the kitchen and dining room, leaving little for privacy.

"You're back, I trust for only a short while," Nightingales housecarl, Iona called to him from the kitchen.

Iona was appointed to be his housecarl after he became Thane of Riften when he helped the Jarl uncover who was selling skooma in the city. Little to the Jarls' knowledge Nightingale only assisted her after the Thieves Guild was contracted by Maven Black-Briar to do the job. Iona was a toned nord woman with short red hair and steel colored eyes.

There was no bond between Nightingale and Iona, they had met after Nightingale had reformed the Thieves Guild. After reforming the guild he used all their resources to scrounge Tamriel of any and all clues that could give Nightingale an insight as to who he was and where he came from. The more dead ends he encountered looking into his past, the more Nightingale retreated into his own consciousness, slowly becoming the husk of a man that he is now. This was the only way Iona knew her Thane.

"Just need supplies," Nightingale replied.

Simply nodding, Iona began to wrap up salted meat and other preserved food and began to stow the meals in a satchel without saying another word.

Heading downstairs into his basement, Nightingale went to his alchemy station where he clipped various potions to his belt. Every potion that he stored faded into his armor in order to keep the glass from reflecting any light, one of the benefits of the armor given to him by a Daedric Prince.

Looking around the room for anything else that could be useful Nightingale stopped as his eyes rested on a steel door that appeared to be old and rusted shut just under the staircase. While he had stored most of his treasures in the Thieves Guild vault, Nightingale had this room built to safely store some of the most dangerous artifacts that he had come across. He had Balimund, the smith in Riften, forge the door to be as strong as possible and reinforce the walls of the room itself. Several mages from the college enchanted the house in its entirety to weaken and repel all manner of daedra, vampires, and all other foul creatures. They also made it so that only he could see and access the room unless he chose otherwise. This was Nightingales' vault.

Approaching the door Nightingale held his right hand up and rested the palm on the cool metal surface. Concentrating, he could feel the magicka pool into his hand as he slowly opened the door with a loud groan from the hinges.

Entering his vault he was greeted by the sight of the rusty mace of Molag Bal, the mace served as a reminder to Nightingale whenever he entered the vault. It reminded him that while these artifacts were powerful, they all came at a cost. The mace never was restored by the Daedra as Nightingale refused to be his puppet and torture a Boethia cultist for Molag Bal. He promised Nightingale answers about his past in exchange for his assistance. Nightingale had agreed until he was ordered to beat the cultist to death in order to dominate and bend him to Bals will. Realizing that this would be Nightingales fate as well, he decided to defy the Daedra and smash the cage holding the cultist and the two of them ran from the dreaded house with the mace still in Nightingales hand.

Shuddering at the sight of the mace, he moved on studying the room considering if anything was worth the price that it would take. He passed by the nine other dragon priest masks that were mounted on the wall as he was currently satisfied with Otar. Walking towards a weapon rack he picked up the Sanguine Rose, this staff could summon a Dremora that would serve Nightingale, and that could be extremely helpful while fighting vampires. He earned the staff from the Daedric Prince Sanguine after a night of drinking and then trying to piece together what happened. The staff would disappear from his hands and reappear when needed, a neat enchantment allowing Nightingale to not be over encumbered with gear.

Next he went to a glass case that held the Gauldur Amulet, taking it out of the case he put the amulet on around his neck, he could feel himself get stronger after he put it on, both magically and physically due to the nature of its enchantment.

What else could I bring? Nightingale asked himself.

As if on cue a slight glow began emanating from one of the display cases, he went over to the glow where he could see Dawnbreaker inside the case. Nightingale considered taking the blade as it was enchanted by the Daedric Prince Meridia to cause great damage to the undead. He was awarded the blade after clearing out her temple that was plagued by a necromancer that was raising an undead army of the fallen soldiers in Skyrims civil war. The longer he stared, the more intense the light got until he had to avert his eyes before he could be blinded.

No, that damn blade can stay here, it will draw too much attention with how bright it glows. He thought to himself.

He would never admit it, but deep down Nightingale knew that the blade would also force him away from the shadows, making him step into the light. Being in the light physically and mentally terrified him more than anything.

Exiting his vault the way he came Nightingale closed the door behind him hearing it latch shut and the hum of magic begin as the room resealed itself.

Heading up the stairs Nightingale noticed the satchel of food that Iona had packed for him, he slung the satchel over his shoulder and headed out the back door of his house swiftly.

"Stay safe and you're welcome," Iona muttered as she watched her Thane leave without a word.

Leaving his house quickly, Nightingale resumed his journey to Fort Dawnguard, which was almost over as the fort was close to Riften. Once he was far enough from the city Nightingale took out some salted venison and lifted Otar just far enough to where he could eat. He finished his meal quickly, staying off starvation but he did not allow himself to feel full as he always left himself slightly hungry. He would get weaker if he was extremely hungry, but slight hunger kept him sharp as it kept Nightingale from getting comfortable, a feeling that he did not think he deserved.

Nightingale followed the road until he came across the entrance to Dayspring Canyon, where the fort resided. Before entering the pass in the mountain he noticed the heads of two imperial male vampires on pikes, one on each side of the entrance.

Damn.., even I don't use vampire heads as trophies. This is almost sadistic behavior. Nightingale thought to himself.

Pushing that thought to the side Nightingale entered the pass and followed the narrow path until it opened up into one of the most breathtaking views he had ever seen in Skyrim. The sun was setting and orange light beamed through the massive waterfalls that were just in front of Nightingale. The leaves were illuminated with the warm light and rustled on the branches from the breeze that glided through the canyon. Around the bend stood the fort, it was larger than he thought it would be, it had three main large towers, two connected by the main area of the fort and the third by a bridge. The bridge was almost completely sealed off besides the windows which were strategically facing the entrance of the canyon, perfect for defense.

Nightingale stood frozen in the canyon admiring the scenery and feeling the warmth of the sun as it illuminated his surroundings. Finally he averted his eyes from the scene, feeling as if it was now tainted by his presence. Nightingale quickened his pace to preserve this place from the anguish and darkness that seeped from his very core.

As he headed towards the fort, Nightingale noticed a young nord male with blonde hair that rested just above his shoulders, a green tunic, and an iron war axe on his belt standing still staring at the fort. Uninterested, Nightingale walked past the man and continued to the fort.

"Wait up!" the man called as he ran to catch up to Nightingale. "Here to join the Dawnguard as well eh? Judging by your slightly terrifying attire, Isran, the leader, should let you join no problem. Me on the oth-."

"Kid, shut the fuck up," Nightingale said interupting the nord.

"Jeez, you don't have to be an asshole," the nord muttered under his breath.

Nightingale continued up the path ignoring the muttered comment that came from behind him. He climbed the steps to the fort's main entrance, a large wooden gate, it was larger than most gates at the main cities in Skyrim. Outside the main gate was a nord who appeared to be in his late twenties, he had brown hair that stopped around his ears and wore an unfamiliar set of armor.

"Greetings, the name is Celann," Celann said as he met Nightingale a few feet in front of the door. "Here to join the Dawnguard I presume?"

"Depends on if you're hunting vampires to wipe out the plague that they are, or rather you're killin them for sport and taking trophies like the heads outside of the canyon," Nightingale responded.

"Ha! Isran is going to like you, head on inside."

Nightingale brushed past Celann and headed to the main door cautiously as he had not answered his question in the slightest. He inhaled deeply, feeling the cool air fill his lungs before placing his hands on the door, and with a shove he opened one of the large, heavy doors to enter Fort Dawnguard.

The entrance was a large circular shaped room made of stone and had a domed ceiling high up. Nightingale kept his guard up as there was a second level that had a walkway around the main room and an iron railing with several solid spots that would be perfect for cover. As he walked to the center of the room he could see an older bald redguard wearing matching armor as the man outside. He had a black goatee and a large warhammer that seemed to shine on his back. The redguard was talking to someone that Nightingale recognized as a Vigilant of Stendarr due to his robes and steel plated boots and gauntlets.

"Isran, you were right, the vampire threat is larger than any of us besides you thought," the vigilant said to the redguard.

"I told you, yet not one of you would listen," Isran replied with a snarl. "Now what Tolan? You realize that the vigilants can't protect you so you want to hide here with the Dawnguard? Is that it?"

"Isran, the Vigilant of Stendarr is gone. Vampires attacked the hall… and burned it to the ground.., no one made it out." Tolan responded while trying to suppress the lump forming in his throat.

"Yes… well, I never wanted this. Let's table this discussion for we have a visitor," Isran replied motioning towards Nightingale. "You there, step from the shadows and tell me why a Nightingale has entered my fort."

Puzzled as to how Isran knew who, rather what he was. Nightingale approached the redguard and looked him straight in his eyes and said, "I heard that you are vampire hunters and were looking for assistance."

"I'm looking for recruits to join my order, not common thieves like yourself," Isran replied, stepping closer to Nightingale until they were all but a couple feet apart at eye level. "Did you think that I would not recognize your armor? I've studied all the daedra to learn as much as I can about vampires. That mask that you wear, however, is something different."

"If you know about nightingales then you know of the skill that we must have before we are deemed worthy. You know that I differ from a common thief, but if you'd rather train inexperienced farmers like the lad who followed me then be my guest."

Nightingale typically did not entertain those who would criticize him, however there was something about Isran that got under his skin. He felt that he needed to regain the upper hand or else it would somehow be used against him.

"You may not be common rank material but I bet we could find something suited for your skill set," Isran said as he stepped back, never changing his expression. "Tolan tell him what you were telling me about that cave, Dimhollow."

"Yes, one of our order believed that Dimhollow Crypt held some sort of ancient vampire relic of some kind. He was taken by vampires from the hall when it was attacked," Tolan said with a sigh of remorse.

"Good enough for me. Go and use your skills, to investigate this crypt and report back to me," Isran told Nightingale mockingly emphasizing the word skills. "I trust that you will be fine on your own, we don't have much in the way of soldiers yet."

"I'll go with him," Tolan declared.

"Tolan, that is a bad-" Isran started.

"I don't care what you think Isran," Tolan said defiantly. "I know that you believe that we are all soft and weak, but if these vampires had anything to do with the destruction of the hall, I will avenge my brothers."

"Very well."

"Where is the crypt?" Nightingale interjected.

"It is south west of Dawnstar, I will meet you there," Tolan responded.

Nightingale turned and headed out the door, as he was leaving he heard Isran talking to the young nord who had walked up with him. Surprisingly Isran accepted him and immediately started to train the lad.

These fools are going to get themselves killed. Nightingale thought to himself. They seem to be radical and the leader recognized my status as a nightingale yet still attempted to assert dominance. I'll check out this crypt but depending on what I find I'll cut my losses, I will not let another person be in charge of my life.

Nightingale started towards Dimhollow Crypt enjoying the solitude that came with the walk alone. He enjoyed the silence and not having someone that he had to look out for, or try to match their pace made his walks that much better. The roads of Skyrim were hard enough, no need to make it worse with company.

The walk to Dimhollow was quick and uneventful, just the way Nightingale preferred it. Having food with him made stopping for supplies unnecessary allowing him to head straight for the crypt eating along the way. He made the walk in under two days, only stopping to sleep for a couple hours to try and recharge before an inevitable fight with vampires.

Sleep did not come easy for Nightingale, especially while on the road. He was always on high alert which caused him to sleep extremely lightly. His dream in the prison returned and plagued him once more. Shaking it off he headed towards the entrance to Dimhollow, walking up the ancient stone steps he entered the cave.

The cave was dark upon entry, Nightingale moved slowly and stepped deliberately so as to not make a sound, or worse, trip. After a few more feet through the entrance a dim light came from the distance, the closer he got Nightingale realized the light came from a fire that was lit in the distance. Fire meant that there was something alive down here.

Nightingale ducked behind a rock and peered around the side to get a closer view as to who or what was tending to the fire. He saw two black hounds that seemed to have smoke emanating from their bodies and ruby red eyes circling the perimeter of a vampire looking down at something on the floor.

"You acted rashly vigilant," the vampire hissed at his victim. "You attacked head first without any regards to your safety."

"Ha! I don't care if I live or die vampire, I only care that I try to avenge my brothers and sisters that were at our hall when it was burned," the familiar voice of Tolan spoke weakly. "Besides, I killed one of you and your thrall."

"For that I will feed on you until you have nothing left," the vampire replied.

Nightingale waited in the distance for the perfect time to strike, he could tell that this vampire was stronger than those that he had fought previously. He knew he should try and help Tolan, but the Vigilant was dead either way, so Nightingale waited.

A few moments later Tolans blood curdling screams filled the cave, the deafening sound echoed off the walls and pounded into Nightingales ears filling him with hate and remorse. Forcing those feelings down he conjured a bow and knocked two arrows and aimed at the hounds and released the arrows silently. The arrows flew fast and precisely, meeting the hounds in their hearts with a dull thunk. The hounds slumped to the ground dead with a soft thud, but the vampire didn't seem to notice as he was still feeding on a screaming Tolan.

Nightingale used Tolans screams and casted muffle to cover his approach; he was already extremely capable of avoiding detection, but vampires had superb senses and could find their target in a crowded city based on their heart beat if they so desired. Nightingale drew his sword as Tolans screams began to fade and he stood directly behind the feeding vampire. He raised his blade so the point was at the back of the vampire's head. With a hard shove Nightingales blade pierced the back of the vampire's skull and exited through the front where its nose used to be. The corpse collapsed to the side and Nightingale removed his blade from the vampire's head and wiped the dripping blood off on its tunic before sheathing the blade.

Tolan lay on the ground struggling to breath as he was still bleeding from the puncture marks on his neck and blood pooled out from his mouth. He shakily lifted his head up to face Nightingale and his eyes darted to him and the structure behind him.

Nightingale turned to face whatever Tolan was trying to warn him about but it was already too late. The air in the cavern heated up and crackled with electricity as a lighting bolt was sent hurtling towards Nightingale.

Unable to react in time, the bolt of lightning struck Nightingale in the chest and sent him flying backwards into the cave wall with such force the stone cracked. He had smashed his head on the wall causing his vision to go dark temporarily and he slid down the wall until he hit the ground in a sitting position with the wall as support. Nightingale stayed there unable to move as he felt the electricity continue to flow through his body causing him to lock up. His vision began to return as he noticed the glowing red eyes of a vampire come from the distance.

"I tried to warn the fool that this Vigilant wouldn't be the only one coming," the vampire called as he approached Nightingale. "He couldn't put aside his ego to look at the larger picture."

Nightingale remained frozen in place as his vision refocused, he could feel the pressure behind his eyes begin to form, but the pounding from his head caused it to subside. Nightingale watched as the vampire walked over to the almost dead Tolan.

"Pity, you could've made such a nice thrall," the vampire said while kicking Tolans legs and then drew his sword. "Go and meet your beloved Stendarr," he said as he drove his sword through Tolans chest allowing him to finally die.

Nightingale used this time to try and heal his broken bones with a healing spell, he was decent at restoration magic as he had to learn while he often traveled alone. He could feel his bones snap back into place, but it was difficult to do this quietly and with the limited magicka reserves he had due to being drained by the lightning.

The vampire walked over to Nightingale and squatted to bring himself eye level with the wounded nord before speaking. "Interesting strategy if I do say so myself, letting another be devoured so you can sneak up on one of us. You may be more of a monster than we are."

Nightingale concentrated on his breathing allowing for his mind to clear and his lungs to expand as he had only one shot at getting out of this.

"I think I'll turn you, you'll make a most savage vampire," the vampire said, baring his fangs.

Nightingale took one final deep breath in, filling his lungs with air and feeling it heat up inside before bellowing, "YOL TOOR SHUL!"

Nightingale held the shout as long as he could, allowing the vortex of fire to completely consume the vampire in front of him. The flames were so hot that the screams from the vampire were silenced after a few seconds as his vocal cords disintegrated in his throat and the stone around him started to melt.

When the vampire hit the ground he disappeared into a cloud of ash as nothing remained and Nightingale finally stopped the shout.

A few moments later Nightingale unclipped a vial from his belt and consumed the contents of a restore magicka potion, as soon as he finished he drank a health potion tossing the vials to the ground listening to the glass shatter. Feeling the pounding in his head dissipate and the last of his bones snap back together, Nightingale rose to his feet and began to heal other damage now that his magicka is almost restored completely. Nightingale mended the broken bones, the torn ligaments, and his head injury but not completely, he left some pain behind.

He continued through the cave leaving Tolans body where it was, not wanting to spend more time in this place than he had to. He wanted to dispose of it but he figured this way any wild animal could get a meal from the corpse.

The crypt was not left unguarded. As with most Nordic ruins, draugr roamed the halls guarding and taking care of the ancient site, this worked in Nightingales favor. He followed the tunnels deeper and deeper down, sticking to the shadows allowing for the draugr to fight the invading vampires, only appearing to silently slay the victor of each fray and returned to the shadows once more.

Nightingale approached a large iron gate that was not fully on the ground due to the debris that allowed a small crawl space underneath. On the other side of this gate was a vampire battling a giant frostbite spider. Knowing the vampire should win with relative ease, Nightingale squeezed under the gate, careful not to cut himself on the pointed ends. Once on the other side he approached the distracted vampire from behind waiting for the fight to end.

The vampire shot one last ice spike at the frostbite spider, finally killing the creature. "Damn spid-," the vampire started to say but was interrupted as the cold steel from Nightingales blade sliced open his throat nearly removing his head, causing blood to seep down the vampire's front and pool on the floor where he fell.

Nightingale wiped his blade off on the vampire and walked through the growing pool of blood leaving bloody footprints as he headed through the wooden door that was just ahead.

The door opened into another room which seemed to be more regal than the rest of the cave, almost like he was standing in the ruins of a castle. In the corners of the room there were strange statues that Nightingale did not recognize, they seemed to bestial in nature. These statues had large mouths with pointed teeth, a bat-like head with large horns pointed back, long sharp talons on their hands and feet, and a pair of wings.

"I'll never tell you anything Lokil, my oath to Stendarr is stronger than any vampiric curse you can inflict on me," a voice said in the distance.

Nightingale headed towards the balcony on the far side of the room searching for the source of the voice he heard. Once there he looked down to see two vampires interrogating a Vigilant of Stendarr who was cut, beaten, and missing his right leg.

"I believe you," Lokil responded cruelly. "You have no idea what you discovered here, go and be with your beloved Stendarr."

Lokils hands crackled with lightning and he unleashed the spell on the fallen Vigilant. His screams filled the cavern, only to be mixed with Lokils maniacal laugh. Nightingale watched from the balcony as the Vigilant writhed in agony before slowly starting to disintegrate before all that remained was a pile of ash. He could have helped the man, but he did not want to give himself away until he was ready to strike.

"Was that wise?" the other vampire asked Lokil.

The two vampires headed across a bridge that crossed a large dark chasm and led towards a large area that looked like an arena from a distance.

"His only purpose was to lead us here, nothing more," Lokil replied.

Realizing the bridge would be a decent place to strike, Nightingale descended the steps while conjuring a bow and followed the vampires on the bridge where he knocked two arrows once more. Taking aim he let the arrows fly, one found its mark in the other vampire's throat. She clutched the wound, staggered and fell over the railing of the bridge into the chasm below.

Lokil on the other hand spun around quickly and caught the ethereal arrow in the air mere inches from his left eye.

Chuckling with amusement, Lokil tossed the arrow to the ground and said, "You gave it a good try. I'm afraid that it wasn't good enough."

Nightingale was shocked at Lokils reflexes; no one had ever caught one of his arrows before, especially when they couldn't have possibly seen it coming. The two locked eyes and drew their swords readying for a fierce battle, and they waited for the other to make the first move.

Lokil was the first to strike, he sent a wave of ice shards at Nightingale who was barely able to charge a ward in time to deflect the attack. The ice shattered into a fine mist creating a cloud restricting Nightingale vision, Lokil used this to his advantage. He lunged at Nightingale swinging his sword at his torso barely missing due to his opponent taking a step back. Shifting his momentum Lokil brought his elbow back crashing into Nightingales ribs.

Staggering from the blow to the ribs, Nightingale found himself leaning on the railing of the bridge as Lokil brought his blade slashing down. Nightingale raised his blade defiantly blocking the attack causing the clang of metal to echo throughout the chasm below.

"Nothing can stop us now mortal," Lokil hissed as he pressed his blade into Nightingales.

The sheer power this vampire possessed was greater than any other Nightingale had come across at this point. He could feel his arms starting to buckle, out of desperation he kicked Lokil in the side of his knee and with a crunch the vampire howled in pain and staggered to the side allowing for Nightingale to roll free the other way.

The two faced each other once more with their swords drawn and their backs on the railing of the bridge, this time Nightingale was taking no chances. Inhaling as deep as he could, Nightingale could feel his lungs ready to burst before finally letting the energy out.

"FUS RO DAH!" Nightingale bellowed and the shout caused the entire cavern to slightly shake.

Lokil was forced back into the railing with such force that it gave way and he fell backwards screaming into the chasm. The scream continued for a couple of seconds until a quiet yet sickening crunch was heard confirming the vampire hit the bottom to meet his death.

Nightingale began to inspect his ribs for damage, none were broken this time, they were just bruised. Choosing not to heal the bruises he began to walk towards the arena before he felt the bridge begin to shake.

"Oh fuck," Nightingale muttered as he looked back.

The bridge began to collapse from his shout and Nightingale broke into a sprint to try and make it to the other side. He was almost there but the ground below his feet gave way and he started to fall. Nightingale summoned two daggers and lept for the ledge driving the blades into the stone floor and hung from the side. He pulled himself up and over the ledge where he rolled over onto his back where he lay sweating and panting attempting to catch his breath.

Why did I leave the outpost? Nightingale wondered. I was fine until I left, now I have almost died three different ways. None being a death that I want.

Several minutes passed before Nightingale rose to his feet and brushed the dirt off himself. He headed towards the arena where he noticed several stone braziers that were elegantly carved to look like chalices on the top and a column in the middle of the room.

The column was only about waist high and had a strange button on the top, intrigued Nightingale pressed the button.

"SHIT!" Nightingale yelled as a spike drove through the palm of his hand.

Holding his hand up Nightingale could see straight through it. He focused on healing himself and didn't notice until after that purple magic had engulfed the room. The magic seemed to follow the grooves on the floor which had three main circles,

Annoyed with another puzzle in a Nordic ruin, Nightingale kicked one of the stone braziers only to be surprised that they slid back and forth. Realizing this he moved each brazier until it aligned with the end of the stream of magic.

Once the last brazier was in place the floor began to sink into steps leading towards a black stone sarcophagus. Nightingale headed towards the sarcophagus as it began to open on its own. As the door opened he was shocked as he noticed there was a woman standing arms crossed and eyes closed.

She fell forwards and Nightingale caught her before she could wind up face first on the ground. Turning her over he gently laid her on her back still supporting her head.

"By the gods, she's beautiful," Nightingale muttered to himself.

The woman was about 5ft 9in with a tight slender build, milky skin, jet black hair that went just past her shoulders and had two braids that connected behind her head. Her lips were thin yet full, they were deep red in color as well.

Nightingale admired her completely and was entranced by her beauty for the next few moments, he brushed her hair behind her ear and she started to stir.

"Where am I? Who are you?" the mysterious woman asked weakly gently gripping Nightingales arm as her eyes flickered open.

Still entranced, Nightingale noticed the color of her eyes after she kept them open and fixated them on him. They were breathtaking, but they were glowing red.

Nightingale let go of the woman, stood up, drew his blade and pointed it at her throat as he said, "Vampire."