It took hours to find the confounded location, as it was unconventionally placed in a discreet location. Cura was certain that the vampires may have already gotten what they came there for, and she was wasting their time. The sun had already set, and they were well into the early hours of the night.

Perhaps if Inigo hadn't stopped along the path to smell the Flowers, they could have come sooner. Not that Cura could judge, though; their aroma was lovely.

A chill hung in the air around the pitiable shack that was the Redwater Den. Cura and Inigo approached silently and exercised caution.

"This is definitely not a good place. I can smell Skooma..." Inigo's catlike senses betrayed his trust.

"Wow, from here?" Cura was surprised. They were more than thirty feet away from the broken building.

"I think this is a Skooma House." Inigo hurried ahead.

An Imperial woman sat guard on a chair within the skeleton of the ruined house and was reading a book called "The Battle of Red Mountain". When she saw Cura and Inigo approach she put down the book. "Here for... stuff?"

"Yes." Cura lied, and Inigo nodded.

"Down the hatch." the Imperial pointed to the cellar door beside her.

They entered and found themselves in a small vestibule with a doorman to the left and a weapon storage on the right.

The Doorman spoke up and immediately warned them. "Hold it. If you're going downstairs, you keep your weapons to yourself or we'll be getting better acquainted."

"All right." Cura agreed. This certainly was not what she was expecting.

"Head on in and behave yourself." The Doorman opened up to them.

"The Skooma is so much stronger down here!" Inigo exclaimed as his eyes seemed to widen with slumbering desire.

"Ah, welcome, welcome! I don't believe we've seen you here before, have we? You can buy from me, then join any booth you'd like." A Wood Elf woman behind a caged counter on the left side of the room said as she pointed down the hall across from her.

Cura noticed a well built into the wall beside the counter with buckets full of ominous red fluid. It disturbed her to potentially know what it was.

Inigo grit his teeth. "I do not like this..." He could begin to feel his body breaking into cold sweat and he began to tremble lightly as a result.

Temptation surrounded him. The delicious, succulent odor of moon sugar danced like a Fairy through the air and straight into his nostrils, bombarding him with memories of distorted pleasure.

"You seem tense. Join a booth and relax a bit. Or did you need another fix?" the Wood Elf tried to get Inigo's attention.

"What is so special about your skooma?" Inigo snapped out of his trance and tried to act defensive.

"The secret is our mystic Redwater Spring. The magic in the waters opens the mind to experience Skooma in a way like never before." the Wood Elf extended her hands to paint a picture of fantasia as she tried to sell it to him.

The vapours alone were making Cura lightheaded. The Breton coughed as she began to feel dizzy.

Or perhaps that could just be her ailing health.

Behind the Dealer was a door, which appeared to lead to a basic storeroom with large barrels, from what Cura could see from her angle. She nearly stumbled, and grabbed the counter for support. "Whoa!"

To Inigo's right was a corridor with a slight red mist permeating from it, and four rug-covered booths, with two on each side, unparalleled.

"May I... have a sample?" Inigo asked.

Heck, it's just one, right? What could be the harm in it? He's gone so long without Skooma, cheating one time could be acceptable.

"Hmm, fine. Just as long as you don't tell anyone about us, all right?" The Wood Elf handed the bottle over to him.

"Inigo, no!" Cura smacked the bottle out of his hand.

No, no, no! They did not need this.

Inigo stated in horror as the flask smashed against the floor and the liquid spilled out. A cold chill traversed the whole of his body, paining his veins and agitating his arteries.

"That was mine!" Inigo roared in sudden, deranged anger.

"Inigo, get a hold of yourself!" Cura grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a light shake. "This isn't you!"

Inigo's anger shifted into confusion as he looked down at his extended claws, the broken bottle, and then at his friend. "Oh, no... my friend, I am sorry! I... I became a Khajiit possessed."

"It's all right." Cura reassured him as her dizzy spell intensified. "It's..." She looked at the Wood Elf, who was creeping behind Inigo with a dagger.

Quickly, Cura dashed forward and brought her mace down on her head, dividing her skull and killing the Wood Elf Drug Dealer. When the sound resonated, the Doorman followed suit, rushing into the chamber from his lookout, axe glistening in the light. "Now, what did I tell you?" He snarled as he tried to bring it down on Cura.

The Breton was quick on her toes, even if a little disoriented. Her shield connected with the axe, but slid off of it due to disbalance, and she nearly missed her chance at retaliation. Her mace met his side, shattering his ribs, and then her shield met his neck and cleaved his head right off. It rolled across the floor, spilling blood in a curved trail along the stone tiles.

Inigo paused for a hot minute, stunned by the display. "Oh, well, thank you, friend! I did not see that coming, I admit."

Cura nodded kindly and turned aside to one of the rooms. "Don't mention it." When she turned the corner, all she saw were dead people lying in beds, overdosed of the devilish fluid. "Inigo, just promise me that I'll never find you like that..."

"Deal!" Inigo nodded enthusiastically as he quickly began to dump the skooma buckets down the well. "Begone, Clavicus Vile's Ale." He smeared the character of the liquid jokingly though it was more to convince himself that he could detach from it.

Cura continued to traverse the rooms, where she found a dead Vampire and two more dead addicts. Suddenly, from the center room across, she heard somebody muttering. Upon her approach, she saw an Imperial Nobleman lying on a cot.

When the nobleman noticed her, he beckoned to her immediately. "You there, bring me another bottle of skooma... wait, who are you? You look like fun. Pull up a seat, friend."

Cura came closer and went down on one knee, facing him at eye level. She needed to see if he was too far gone. She searched him, ad saw that he wasn't entirely present; though, compared with the others, his condition was favourable.

Inigo dropped the bucket on the cold, stone floor. "That's the last of it, I think." He wiped the sweat off his brow, sure of his escape, when a glimmer called to him, luring him over the counter.

One last bottle lay there, under the counter, shining like gold.

Inigo bit his lip.

"No. I will not!" He jerked himself away and threw his face into his right arm. For a while, he began to pray to the Eight for strength, but his prayers were skewered with the flavour of sugar. That bottle tormented him. He was a horse, the skooma was the carrot, and Cura was the rod keeping it from his grasp.

"If my friends could try this Redwater Skooma they might finally understand why I like slumming it with you commoners." The Nobleman laughed like a fool as he twirled the empty bottle in his hand, making a circular motion in front of Cura's face. "Ohhh... that's good stuff. Believe me friend, I've tried it all and this is the best." I once paid 3000 gold for this fungus that grows in giants' armpits. Couldn't stand up for days, but nowhere as good as this stuff."

"That's disgusting." Cura's face soured as she quickly wrenched the man up onto his feet. "Look, you need to get out of here. It's not safe!"

She ushered the man outside the room in spite of his profane protests and dragged him past the corpses that littered the floor.

Inigo saw Cura pass by with the corner of his eye and swiped the bottle, and pocketed it for the meantime.

Cura reentered and searched the room with her eyes. She walked back to the corridor and noticed an open gate door that lead into a cavern.

The cavernous tunnel stretched south, opening into a large multi-leveled room, with a raised section opposite on a boardwalk, and the pervasive red mist rising above large boiling vats.

Corpses of Vampires and Thralls littered the floors.

"Oh, no... someone has been here. Are we too late?" Cura expressed her worries.

A pair of wooden ramps on Cura's left led down to the cavern floor, and hanging moss sprouted downwards like curtains from the walls around the cavern.

At the bottom floor, on the right beyond more corpses was a table with two open crates on top; one with three visible bottles of skooma, and in the other, several empty skooma bottles.

Cura felt for Inigo, who was trying his best effort to avoid looking and smelling the temptation around him. Then she turned back to him. "Inigo, maybe it would be best if I went it alone. You need to get out of here."

Inigo shook his head in protest. "No, no, my friend! It is too dangerous for you to go alone. I can do this!"

"Be careful." Cura warned him. She feared for Inigo, because for the most part they hadn't come across Skooma together during their travels, but now that it's entered the equation, she was uncertain as to how it was going to affect him going forward.

She recalled his story about 'shooting her through the head with an arrow' because he was on it so long ago.

It would be best if they got out of here quickly, but they needed to stop the Vampires and retrieve their Bloodstone Chalice, preferably.

To the west was a locked cell containing a dead black-robed conjurer, with a copy of the Alteration spell tome: Telekinesis beside him.

Cura picked the book up. "Hmm, yes... I see..."

As soon as she finished reading it, the book burnt up in blue flames, departing from the mortal realm.

"Oh, no, my friend! It's bad luck to burn books!" Inigo slapped his forehead with his hand. "Even if we do not like what is written inside, we must preserve knowledge!"

"Spell books destroy themselves once their knowledge is passed on." Cura informed him. "It needs to be replicated once more by a capable wizard who knows the spell."

"Ah, I see!" Inigo was enthused. "That is most unconventional for the magical world, but most interesting."

Outside the cell was a cart containing a dead wood elf.

Cura looked to the conjurer, and, using the spell she just acquired, levitated him up into the air and moved him into the cart.

Inigo looked on slack-jawed in amazement. "We could have so much fun with this in Riften! Imagine Smiled chasing the coin into the canal once it is removed from his bucket! Or a thief whose pickpocketing goods fly out of the pockets before he can take them!"

"No, it's not going towards pranks." Cura shook her head and continued moving.

Inigo felt a little irritated by her brusque attitude, but he knew his friend was suffering with demons of her own, so he let it roll off his shoulder instead of taking it to heart.

There were paths that lead towards the end of the room along each side of a raised section of the planked floorboards. At the front, on their left was an alchemy lab built into a wooden table, which Inigo noticed a bottle of Sleeping Tree sap, a random poison, and a total of four bowls of moon sugar, three of which were in an open crate.

"Well, we know how they make the stuff." Inigo approached the table, only to trip on a severed vampire head.

Cura noticed that one of the other corpses was laying against the wall, his brains battered inwards and splattered against the wall itself. A blunt object or weapon was responsible for this.

The closer Cura examined it, it began to look more and more like the work of a Warhammer.

There was no way it was who she was thinking of.

If it was, then perhaps she could be reasoned with.

Cura resolved to get to the bottom of this. Clenching a hand against her chest, she stood upright and led the way through the rest of the cavern.

They passed Nordic catacombs with vampire coffins and corpses littering the floor.

They wandered through an imprisoning area where Cura decided to leave angry Death Hounds in their cages while Inigo scrambled to avoid falling through a steel trapdoor into a spike pit below.

When they found their way out, they came to more tight spaces.

The tunnel beyond twisted and turned before opening into a room with an open coffin in the center, with a smashed-up vampire fallen out of it.

There were two dead Death Hounds and a leveled-over vampire smeared on the ground.

To the west was a fireplace, with an arcane enchanter built into a sideboard on the right of it. On the sideboard are a black soul gem and a book that had seen better days.

The northern passage past two open sarcophagi with dead draugr lying in front of them gave Inigo chills. He could feel the evil growing stronger.

A flight of stairs led to a pair of double iron doors with a puddle of red water seeping underneath it. The doors lead to Redwater Spring.

This was becoming quite tense, as the smells of rot and the red vapours only grew stronger as they came closer to the Redwater Spring.

When Cura entered, she could immediately see that her fears were justified. Stalf, Salonia and Carcette were in the chamber, standing near the dark spewing pool of human remains and red liquid.

Inigo nearly threw up at the sight of it, and dropped the Skooma bottle right in.

"Keeper..." Cura could only mutter as she slowly approached.

"You're too late, Cura." Carcette stated, shaking her head as she stood beside the enemy.

"No, she's right on time." Stalf laughed. "She's here to die. And you're going to kill her."

Carcette uncrossed her arms and turned to glare at him. "Me?"

"Yes, you created the problem, training a Vigilant Dragonborn. You have to fix it now." Stalf pointed at Cura, before squeezing his tone. "Or are you perhaps an enemy of Lord Harkon?"

Author's Note: Yep, it's back! XD Please, play the battle theme "Adamina" from the game "Pascal's Wager" on another tab for this fight! I can't picture it without it. And once again, thank you all so much for taking an interest in my story 3

Carcette sighed and took her Warhammer off her back. She could not turn on them now, because it was too soon to turn against Harkon's Court. She would have to wait for the right moment, when Cura and the others would be ready. As much as Carcette hated doing this, she had to maintain the image of loyalty to the Volkihar Clan. She could not be caught now.

She could feel her heart wrenching at the thought of beating Cura, but the facade was necessary for now. She knew that, deep down, this was a sacrifice for the greater good in the end. Even if their relationship would be sundered, at least she could justify it.

I'm so sorry, Cura... this will hurt me far more than it will hurt you. The Vampiric Breton thought to herself as she tensed her grip around the shaft of her Hammer.

"K-Keeper? No! I don't want to fight you!" Cura pleaded. "Please, don't do this! I'm begging you!"

Inigo quickly took a few steps back and readied his bow. "I..I do not like this, Cura! Do not think of her as your leader! Do not lose focus!"

Cura trembled as she took a couple of steps into the bloodlike water and felt the sins of ages long past crawl up her leg and up her back. Her heart was frozen with fear, and she faltered under the weight of the situation brought upon her. Her tongue was dry and every fiber in her being tensed in that moment. As much as she tried to maintain the posture of strength, her quivering lip was the telltale sign to her adversaries of her condition.

Here she stood in battle against her mentor; her teacher; her guardian. Her Keeper.

This demented dance of fate would not cease.

Cura would rather put her head through the wall than kill Keeper Carcette-especially after she became a Vampire. She could not indulge Molag Bal anymore. She would not.

But she had no choice but to.

Carcette had a glint in her eye. Quickly, she rushed forward, and brought her hammer in a sideways arc at Cura. The young Breton quickly brought her shield up to meet it but was throttled to the side due to the sheer force of impact. As she staggered, Carcette brought her hammer downwards, prompting Cura to try and deflect with her mace.

Unfortunately, the small cudgel was no match for the large bludgeon, and it was knocked down by the sheer weight of the Warhammer, Cura's arm driven down as well. Fortunately, she was able to quickly mend it with a Healing Spell after pivoting to her left.

A few ebony arrows plugged Carcette in the back as she grabbed Cura by the collar. Ignoring the annoying splinters, she bashed Cura's forehead a few times using her own at close range, pinning her in place using the shaft of her hammer.

"Gah!" Cura dropped to the floor as the world spun around her.

"Use your Voice!" Inigo pleaded from afar as he knocked a couple more arrows and loosed them at Carcette, one sticking in her left arm, pinning it to her left ribs.

Carcette turned to look at Inigo, who fired the second straight through her forehead. "Of course, the blasted Cat." She muttered as she forcefully tore the arrow out of her left arm, freeing it. Strangely, she didn't seem to feel much pain. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise. In the blink of an eye, she dashed forward and lifted Inigo up by his jaw and held him up in the air. "Are you prepared to die?"

"Let...me... go! Release me, you nagging witch!" Inigo squirmed as he scratched her armoured gauntlets in a futile gesture to free himself.

Carcette shook her head disapprovingly and readied her hammer in her right hand to smash him, when a sudden Fireball hit her in the back, causing searing pain to race through her. She dropped Inigo to the ground and jumped with pained hisses. "Ahh! It burns!"

Cura stood there across the room, biting her bleeding lower lip, and readying another Fireball. The Keeper's screams pierced through her, but she needed to convince herself that this was no longer Carcette. This was a fiend wearing her face.

"Why did that not do so much damage?" Inigo asked as he readjusted his jaw manually.

"Because she's still a Breton!" Cura explained as reality sunk it. "She may have the Vampiric weakness to fire, but she still has magic resistance."

As soon as the flames simmered into the air, Carcette angrily grit her teeth. "Is that your best? Huh? Why did I waste my time?"

Cura blasted her with a steady chain of fire, using her Flames spell, and Inigo kept a distance, and began to look for his bow, which was discarded during the struggle.

"Come on..." Cura tried to strengthen the flames by Dual Casting them. "I can break her natural defenses! I just need a bit more focus! With enough pressure, I should be able to..." Cura's body was being taxed like never before. The Tamrielic Guide to Races wasn't kidding when it said that 'Even the humblest of Bretons could boast a resistance to magic.' Cura wasn't sure if she would wear off before Carcette's magic resistance could be broken.

Centuries of selective breeding versus a first-generation Half-Elf. The difference was vast.

Carcette grit her teeth as she tried to push back against the inferno and held a hand in front of her face as she inched forward step by step. She could slowly begin to feel the flames intensifying and the pain increasing and grew frustrated. "Ahh! I've had... enough of this!" She arched her back and looked up to the ceiling and thrust both arms out. "DRAGONSKIN!"

And that was it.

A violet-hued aura surrounded her body and absorbed the oncoming fire, which she then converted into Healing magic on herself, undoing Cura's progress.

Cura gasped as Carcette rushed through her flames. "Oh, gods! It's doing nothing at all!" she tucked and rolled out of her way quickly and cancelled her flame spell in the process.

Inigo's jaw dropped in protest. "Oh, son of a-"

Carcette's hammer flew through the air and hit Inigo over the head, causing him to collapse and slip into unconsciousness against the floor. Cura gasped in horror as her friend hit the floor.

"NO! INIGOOOO!" Cura wailed in horror as she ran to his side. She quickly took off her gauntlet and touched his pulse with her bare fingers and fortunately, she found a pulse. It was weak, but present. Cura shook as tears began to mix with the blood running down from her forehead.

Cura put her gauntlets back on and slowly lifted herself back up. "Keeper, how could you do this?" She tried to appeal to her. "Why?! Why would you... that letter..."

Stalf and Salonia exchanged glances upon hearing this and nodded at one another.

"Cura, I'll kill you if I have to!" Carcette roared as she took her off-guard and slammed her in the ribs with the pommel of her hammer, and then followed up by whacking her in an upwards curve, sending Cura flying up into the air.

Cura hit the ceiling and dropped down to the floor.

It was no use.

She couldn't even see it coming.

Carcette put her foot down on Cura when she attempted to get back up, and she pinned her down on the cold cavern floor. She then lifted her Warhammer up and began to try and find a good angle to strike.

"FEIM!" Cura shouted and she became ethereal, which simultaneously made Carcette lose her balance and granted her freedom.

Cura's ethereality quickly ended, and she phased back into the material plane. She brought her shield forward and smacked Carcette in the chest, causing her to fall backwards.

Before Cura could follow-up with a mace blow, Carcette whacked her in the left and right shoulders forward with two overhead vertical smashes in quick succession, and once Cura was stunned, she clipped her waist with a horizontal circular sweep, and then broke her left leg with a wide sweeping attack.

Cura fell to the floor with a shriek as her leg bent to its side. She readied a healing spell, but Carcette acted quickly, smashing her right arm with a fast swing. Cura screamed in shock and curled into the fetal position and buried her face in the floor, sobbing.

Stalf and Salonia both cackled with morbid amusement as a master tormented her loyal student.

The pain was so great, her mind could only focus on it. The sharp, crippling, roaring stimulus traversed her body and made her chest feel numb. Breath shortening; eyes blurring; hearing waning; all Cura could do was try to drag herself along the floor in attempt to escape. She never should have come. She was too exhausted; she was sloppy. Her health was waning; why did she fall for this trap?

She was a failure.

She always was a failure.

Only divine intervention could possibly save her now.

Carcette was not about to show her any mercy, it would seem, as she grabbed Cura by the right shoulder and flipped her back over.

As soon as they were facing one another, through gritted teeth, Cura readied a "FUS-", only to be silenced by a firm punch across the face.

Cura's head hit the floor, and she could feel the weight of the injuries pulling her down. When she attempted to move her right arm, she could feel the shifted bone jab through her flesh. She squeaked in pain as her broken arm struggled to hold a solid posture.

Carcette pinned her down and leaned forward, getting into Cura's face, her back turned to her cohorts.

Cura's emerald eyes wavered and wept with great sadness, the cold sting of betrayal, and immeasurable suffering. Her pupils themselves were beginning to dilate. She knew Carcette would be more skilled, by the years that divided them, but she never knew the Keeper was this strong. Though, being a Vampire, it made the difference.

Then it caused Cura to fret; if Carcette was this powerful as a Vampire, how powerful was Harkon, the one who turned her?

Cura tried to struggle, but it did no good. Carcette wrapped her fingers around her neck and leaned in close to her left ear. "Forgive me, Cura. I'm so sorry." Her face was sorrowful and sincere; a great contrast to the actions she was performing.

There were ways to subdue someone without killing them. Carcette applied pressure to the pulses under Cura's jaw until her face began to pale, and then she released her, allowing Cura to slip into unconsciousness.

The enfeebled Dragonborn lay there in and out of the red water, defeated. Crushed, at the hands of one of the people she trusted and loved the most in the world. Carcette laid a gentle hand on her cheek and held back a sob of her own. Quickly, she returned to a stoic demeanor as she approached the two who she would be much preferred to have subjected to her wrath.

"It's done." Carcette spoke coldly. "She won't bother us anymore. Let's fill the chalice and begone."

Carcette hated herself. She hated having to pander to these wicked ghouls. She just hoped Cura would someday find it in her heart to forgive her for that.

Salonia scratched her chin. "It's really too bad, you know. The little accident you had here, completely unexpected..." Her tone reeked with the stench of treason. "At least she was a powerful enough Vampire to strengthen the Chalice."

Stalf cracked his finger joints. "Yeah, too bad. Lord Harkon's new favorite, dead so soon after joining the family... at the hands of her former student, no less. At least she took her down with her."

Salonia looked at Carcette, and then at Stalf, with a toothed grin. "We're just lucky I was here to return the Chalice to Vingalmo, so he could make sure Harkon gets it back."

Stalf stepped back a touch. "Wait, what? That's not what we agreed. We take it back together."

Salonia laughed darkly as she thrust a finger forward. "Idiot. You didn't really think I'd let you walk out of here either, did you? Vingalmo wants you both dead."

Stalf narrowed his eyes at Salonia, and at Carcette. "Well, that's just fine. Orthjolf told me to finish off anyone who got in the way." He took out his ebony dagger. "And fortunately, your little Cura did us the courtesy of weakening you a bit." He rushed forward to strike Carcette, but what the second-rate Vampire had forgotten was that she was a Vampire Lord, like Orthjolf and Vingalmo.

Carcette quickly embedded her hammer in his skull with all her might. "This is for the Vigil!" She kicked him off of it, and he slid into death, reducing to ashes in the Redwater Spring, leaving only a shattered skull and bones.

This sent a quick message to Salonia, who shuddered and began to back away. "I knew you couldn't be trusted! Vingalmo knew it! Should have allowed me to strip the flesh from your belly the day we slaughtered your friends!" She swung her arm aggressively as she backed up into the wall. "Stop it! I command you!" Fear consumed the fiend.

As if on instinct, Carcette called upon Stendarr's Aura, and suddenly, light surrounded her and illuminated the area, scorching Salonia. The vampiress wailed in horror as the light engulfed her and reduced her to ashes.

Carcette stood there, bewildered as the light began to fade. She looked at herself and realized she was still a Vampire.

Then why?

Why did Stendarr grant her his power?

Now, after what she's done.

Perhaps...

Then perhaps this was what she was meant to do.

However, this contradicted everything that the Vigil taught; if a vampire could be able to call upon Stendarr with impunity as she just had, could that mean that they weren't irredeemable, profane abominations with no hope of redemption after all?

The Redwater Den was ineffective now; a weak Vampire was sacrificed to it. She slowly filled the dark goblet with the worthless water.

She knew all along that they would betray her at some point, just at this time, it was surprising. Perhaps their insistence on waiting was to ensure Cura would kill her first. She could not be certain, but this did move the notion to light that the Court had its suspicions about her. Perhaps they were not asleep when she snuck out to get the letter to the Courier in the early morning.

At any rate, that was behind her now. She had the satisfaction of knowing that her fallen men were avenged on this day.

Cura.

Poor, sweet Cura.

Carcette lamented what she had done as she approached the unconscious Cura. Softly, she lifted her up off the cold, hard floor and noticed then and there, that Cura had Dawnbreaker fastened on her hip the whole time. "You... you had Meridia's sword, and did not think to use it?"

Dawnbreaker would have been devastating to her; fatal. If it never crossed her mind, then Cura never wanted to kill her. She hoped it would never get that far. The remorse the Breton felt was immeasurable.

Even for Inigo. Sure, she didn't know him well, nor did she receive him graciously when they first met, but he had kept Cura alive, and accompanied her all this time. In any other circumstance, she would have thanked him for it. He did not deserve this either.

The pair of them needed a safe place to recover, and they did not need to rest in this fetid place a moment longer.


The Reach felt a cross breeze of cool air from the east, a reminder that it was still part of Skyrim, even in spite of the rolling green hills.

Near some odd Dwemer ruins, a Breton woman with short, brown hair wearing leather armour was searching around the large pedestal in the center of the outdoor wreckage, to no avail. "Just one Gyro. One, and I can get back to work. Where are they?" She sighed in frustration as she wiped the cold sweat off her brow. "It's not here. Must have been those damned Mudcrabs after all.."

Celann arrived on horseback and dismounted before the ruins. He walked over to her and spoke clearly. "Are you Sorine Jurard?"

The eccentric female Breton looked him dead in the eye. "You haven't seen a sack full of Dwarven Gyros lying around, have you? I'd swear I left it right here. Do you think mudcrabs might've taken it? I saw one the other day... Wouldn't be surprised if it followed me here. Just look around, will you?" She was incredibly stressed, messing her hair in frustration as she continued her fruitless search.

Celann stood there for a moment, mouth hung open in confusion. "Isran asked me to find you." He regained his composure and went straight to the point.

"Isran? Wants me? No, you must be mistaken. He made it exceedingly clear the last time we spoke that he had no interest in my help. I find it hard to believe he's changed his mind. He said some very hurtful things to me before I left." Sorine began to rummage through stones. "Anyway, I'm quite happy in my current pursuits. So if you'll excuse me..."

Celann chuckled. "You had a falling out?" He found it quite amusing, as it was a story he was all too familiar with, himself.

"Yes, that was my point. I felt it was rather clear." Sorina snubbed him as she continued to search tirelessly. She then screeched to a halt and glared at him with eyes of mild disdain. "Look, what is it you want from me?"

"Vampires threaten all of Skyrim. We need your help." Celann brushed off the rudeness and kept on his point.

"Vampires? Really? Oh, and I suppose now he remembers that I proposed no less than three different scenarios that involved vampires overrunning the population. Well, what are they up to?" Sorine stood up straight, pushing both hands on her back in an effort to fix her bad posture.

"Well, for starters, they've slaughtered the Hall of the Vigilant, and turned the Keeper into one of them." Celann stated plainly.

Sorine was unmoved. "They really should have had better security. Then that never would have happened."

"Well, Isran is concerned." Celann crossed his arms, a little surprised at her nonchalance about the ordeal.

"In case you haven't noticed, Isran is always concerned about something. That's what got us working together in the first place. Still, if he sent you to find me, it may actually be pretty bad." Sorine seethed through her teeth when she considered the weight of this gesture alone.

Celann decided to hit her with the cold, hard truth, point-blank. "The Vampires have an Elder Scroll."

"I... Well, that's actually something I never would've anticipated. Interesting." Sorine's eyes turned to horror as she considered the implications of such an event. "I'm not sure what they would do with one, but in this case Isran is probably correct in thinking it isn't good."

"Keeper Carcette apparently sent a letter warning us that the Vampires were also using an object called the 'Bloodstone Chalice' to boost their power. Make of that what you will." Celann laid it down.

"All right. If nothing else, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to learn more about what's going on so I can better defend myself." Sorine shrugged. "But I'm not just going to abandon what I've been working on here. It's too useful. I need at least one intact Dwarven Gyro. So, either I need to find the satchel those mudcrabs stole, or I need another Gyro from someplace. You wouldn't happen to have one, would you?" She held out a hand hopefully, and Celann shook his head.

"I don't have any Gyros on me." Celann said dryly. Why would he? He wasn't Calcelmo, for Mara's sake.

"Well then I'm very sorry, but I can't just walk away from this project yet." Sorine insisted.

"This is urgent." Celann insisted back.

"I understand that, but I really can't leave here without at least one usable piece of Dwarven equipment. A single Gyro would be enough, I think. Believe me, this is useful stuff." Sorine assured him.

Celann sighed. He decided to look around near the riverbank nearby, because if mudcrabs really did happen to have a vendetta against her like she claims, they would have taken it there.

Strangely enough, she was right.

He killed the mudcrab that was attempting to use the satchel as a nesting place, and lifted it out of the dirt. There were four Gyros inside, intact.

"Here, I've got your stupid Gyros. Take them." Celann tossed the satchel to Sorine, who's face lit up upon seeing it.

"Thank you! It's not much, but this will help a great deal with some things I've been researching. " Sorine hung the satchel around her waist like a duffle bag. "Now where is it Isran expects me to go?"

"We're meeting at Fort Dawnguard." Celann jumped back up on his brown horse.

"Ah. Been working more on his secret hideout, has he? It'll be interesting to see how much progress he's made. I'll finish up here and head in that direction as soon as I can. See you there." Sorine informed him as he rode off.


Durak despised the frigid air of Eastmarch, but a true Orc would never allow such to beat him down. After some wandering through the many cold crags and cliffs, he noticed a large brunette Nord man wearing an armour made with a skinned goat, it looked like. Of course, the stupid Nord would be near Cronvangr Cave.

As Durak approached, the man extended a hand to halt him."You there, hold fast! I've tracked this damned bear for two weeks; I'll not let it have any more victims."

"If you're Gunmar, Isran needs your help. If not, I'll just keep walking." Durak spoke flatly.

"Isran? Needing someone else's help? Never thought I'd hear that. I'm afraid he's a few years too late. I've moved on." The Nord, revealing himself to be Gunmar shrugged it off. "I have more important business to attend to. Besides, he can handle anything alone! He assured me so himself. What could he possibly need my help with?"

"You think hunting a Bear is more important business next to Vampires?" Durak was not impressed.

"Vampires? That... well, that might change things. Tell me more about what's going on." Gunmar stood up straight, and his eyes showed more than just piqued interest; they showed almost excitement.

"We're not sure, but they have an Elder Scroll." Durak led with the doom.

"By the Eight... All right, look. I'll consider it, but I can't just leave this bear to prey on more innocent people. Once it's dealt with, then perhaps I'll see what Isran expects of me." Gunmar exhaled deeply at the thought of such overwhelming odds against humanity. "We need to stop this creature before it kills again."

"Fine by me." Durak withdrew his crossbow and followed Gunmar into the cave. When inside, they were greeted by the largest, meanest-looking Bear Durak had ever seen. He fired a few bolts into its forehead and was sure to keep his distance. This would, after all, not be a good death.

The bear slashed Gunmar across his chest, causing the Nord to double over backwards, and Durak fired a bolt past him, right into the Bear's left eye. The beast roared loudly and stood up on his hind legs near the precipice of the cavern. Gunmar saw his chance. He rushed forward and grabbed the Bear by his paws and shoved the ursine forward with a brutal yell. "HRRGGAAAH!" The bear tumbled off the small cliff beside them and began to hit rocks on the way down, before a final audible snarl could be heard.

Durak was impressed by that fast maneuver. "Is it dead?" He leaned forward and gazed into the long drop downwards.

"Don't know how well I'd have managed by myself. You have my thanks. " Gunmar touched the vicious scratch carved into his chest ad touched the peeling flesh. "You've helped me, so I suppose the least I can do is find out what Isran wants. He's still at that fort near Stendarr's Beacon, I assume?"

Durak nodded. "Yes, he said to meet him at Fort Dawnguard."

"Of course he did." Gunmar rolled his eyes as he began to chug a Healing Potion and his wounds began to close, only leaving a clawed scar behind.

"How did you know?" Durak was surprised, but ultimately, realized she shouldn't be. The two of them had worked together, after all. More likely than not Isran toold him of his plans long ago.

"If Isran is anything, he's stubborn." Gunmar smirked. "He's been working on that place for years now. Never lets anyone in. His own little fortress. Well, I guess I'll get to see what he's been up to all this time. I'll meet you there." He began to walk southward, and Durak decided to follow, instead. He went through all the trouble of getting him; best keep the reckless fool alive until they arrive.


It was cold in Dayspring Canyon that night, and Carcette found a way into the Fort, past the night patrols; after all, they were focused on the roads, not the sky above them. Fools: who were they to judge the Vigil when they didn't even bother to look up as a Vampire flew into their territory with two of their own in tow?

She pushed open the doors and flew up in the center room with Cura and Inigo slung over her shoulders like mink sashes. Silently, she landed on the balcony, and knowing Isran, he would certainly keep the rooms out of initial sight or reach.

She continued to aimlessly wander the halls until she spotted a couple of soft-looking beds. Quickly, she dashed forward and laid Inigo down on the bed to the right, and then gently laid Cura down on the one to the left.

She gently began to examine the inflicted wounds she wrought upon Cura and was quick to discover Linen Wrap on a counter nearby. At times like these, she was happy she was an experienced Healer. She mended her broken arm by setting it in a neutral position across her chest, and by casting a Healing Spell. She used the linen wrap to tie it in place. She did the same with her broken left leg, making a medical wrap as she healed it. It was always difficult to fix a shattered femur bone, due to its location, but Carcette was confident that she mended it well. As long as Cura was not in a hurry to rejoin the action.

Keeping her down for a while would at least lull Harkon into a false sense of security for a time. She was certain that Isran and his allies could bring the fight to the castle, regardless, and when that day comes, she would help rain Oblivion upon Harkon and his little friends.

Speaking of Isran, he slowly crept into the small room, Warhammer at the ready when he saw who was there. Was he really trying to sneak attack a Vampire?

"Nice Fort you have here, Isran." Carcette kept her back turned to him. "I suppose you did have a point about relocation. The winters would have been much warmer here."

"How did you get in here?" Isran demanded to know.

"You've always judged our lack-of-preparedness, but your guards are even less observant than we were." Carcette shook her head disapprovingly as she kept her back to him.

"Turn around and let me see your face!" Isran demanded.

Carcette sighed. "Fine, if it will help." She turned around to see him and her glowing eye was enough to show him.

Immediately, Isran cast Stendarr's Aura and approached, ready to attack, but was stunned himself by the fact that the Aura did no harm to this Vampire. He quickly took a couple of steps back. "What trickery is this?! You should be burning where you stand!"

"Stendarr keeps me." Carcette's voice cracked with peaceful sentiment, resting a hand over her heart. "He still deems me worthy."

Isran still didn't trust it. He called upon the Aedra's power once again, and again, it inflicted no harm unto Carcette. He tried a third and fourth time for safe measure before finally conceding. "I don't know why this is happening, but maybe Stendarr wants somebody else to destroy you."

"Always so extreme." Carcette held up both hands and gave a light shake in the air. "That was our problem. Don't you see, Isran? We failed to see the nuance in this world." She walked over to a dresser and placed both hands upon it. "That was what Stendarr truly wants us to learn. Cura had it right all along!"

"Then why is she crippled, and lying in that bed?" Isran gestured to the injured party.

"I was going to explain that." Carcette informed him. "I had to keep up appearances, to fool the Volkihar Clan. They believe me, for the most part, to be turned. I've not drank sentient blood-I assure you." She took out the Bloodstone Chalice. "I will, however, need to bring this to them."

"Is that-" Isran pointed to it.

"The Bloodstone Chalice, yes." Carcette quickly placed it back in her bag. "Don't worry; it's only partially-operational, at best. I can't be discovered just yet."

"Conniving Breton." Isran scoffed, recognizing the flame within the former Keeper.

"I am from High Rock, you know." Carcette reminded him jokingly.

"Somehow, I believe what you're saying." Isran shrugged. "I suppose if you truly were on their side, it would have been more prudent to kill Cura while you had the chance, rather than risk your hide bringing her into the Lion's Den."

"Please, explain to her what I've told you when she awakes." Carcette asked him. "I don't want her to feel betrayed, on top of all else she's suffered from the last six months."

Isran nodded. "Fine. Just get lost before you're discovered."

Carcette nodded and walked over to Cura again, and gently placed the bedsheet over her, up to her neck, and placed a gentle hand on her forehead. "Rest easy, Cura. And know that I'm terribly sorry for all of it." She turned to walk past Isran and before she could jump over the railing, he called out to her again. "Carcette."

The Breton turned to face him, silently.

"If anything else suspicious is going on in there, you let us know." Isran stated.

"Of course. I already have." Carcette responded, jumping the railing and swiftly making her exit through the front door below.


The journey to Castle Volkihar was long, and grueling, spanning almost a full day, bur Carcette's flight over the land spared her much heartache. She transcended the Sea of Ghosts and onto the Island and into the Castle.

Back into the disgusting pit of Oblivion on Nirn.

She stomped down the stairs, and immediately spotted Garan Marethi standing near the Library alcove.

"I see you have returned. Lord Harkon will be pleased. You met with Stalf and Salonia, I presume?" Garan narrowed his eyes as Carcette approached.

"Yes, and they tried to kill me!" Carcette snarled angrily.

"Well of course they did." Garan brushed it off nonchalantly.

"So, I killed them both." Carcette elaborated on the situation.

"As well you should have." Garan took no offense, nor care of the matter. He was jaded to it all. "Welcome to the politics of Lord Harkon's court. Vingalmo and Orthjolf both long for our Lord's throne but cannot make overt moves against him. Each sought to gain power by using his underling to kill you and keep the Chalice for himself. By ensuring the Chalice reaches our Lord, you have increased his power over them, and at the same time deprived them of their little pets. You've done Lord Harkon two great services. Take what you've earned to heart and be careful who you trust. Now, I believe that Lord Harkon wishes to speak with you." He discreetly handed her a pouch that contained 400 gold coins.

Thank goodness the other two were gone. They could not expose her front.

Now, she just hoped they could not be channeled by Necromancy, otherwise her ploy is over.

Lord Harkon wishes to see her now. That can't be a good sign. Or perhaps it could be. She would find out, one way or another. Gingerly, she walked through the dimly lit halls and past the sleeping Death Hounds. She walked past the Chapel of Molag Bal and through the door into Harkon's personal chambers.

"Ah, you've come. Good, good. Have a seat." Harkon directed her towards the chair opposite to him, set beside a torture cage with a corpse within it. Not unsettling in the slightest.

"Yes, my Lord." Carcette quickly pulled up and sat down.

Harkon gestured towards a bottle of blood on the table. "Would you like a drink?"

Carcette politely declined. "No thank you, my Lord. I am quite full."

It was no lie; along the way she fed off a couple of sleeping Bears. She was good for blood.

"I see you prefer the taste of Animal Blood to Human." Harkon observed with light suspicion, it would seem.

"Oh, yes." Carcette confirmed. "It takes me back to my childhood in Bhoriane. My mother learned an excellent recipe of Blood Pudding from Greater Bretony, and... well... I'm not here to discuss my life story."

"I hear you've returned the Bloodstone Chalice." Harkon stated.

"Yes." Carcette nodded. "It was not an easy task, I will admit. Many fools interfered in it; my former student included. She won't be a problem now, and neither will Stalf or Salonia, the saboteurs. I have no idea what they did before I slaughtered them, but they mixed their blood into the Redwater."

Harkon scoffed and shook his head, leaning back in his seat. "Orthjolf and Vingalmo trying to sabotage me once again. I should not be surprised."

"Why do you tolerate them in your Court, my Lord?" Carcette asked him.

"Because, for the most part, they are harmless fleas, biting the surface of my flesh." Harkon dismissed them. "Thank you for rooting their puppets out. You're slowly proving yourself an asset to my court."

Carcette gave a bow. "It's my pleasure, Lord Harkon."

Harkon nodded and took a sip of blood. "Enjoy my company for some time."

Carcette pondered. "Well, there are some things I want to ask you about."

"You have earned my trust, so I will share what I can." Harkon gestured for her to go ahead.

"When you greeted Serana, it sounded like you hadn't seen her in a long time." Carcette wondered. "I take it she's not a recent runaway?"

"Serana and her mother disappeared long ago. I commanded every vampire in the court to look for them, but after centuries of searching without success, I lost hope. In my heart, I know that it was my wife, Valerica, who took my beloved daughter away from me. If I ever see her again, she will pay most dearly for that betrayal." Harkon clenched the goblet in his hand tightly. "What else do you want to know?"

"What happened to Serana's Mother?" Carcette asked.

"She has been gone for so long now, I can only assume that she has left this world, one way or another. I will say only that we did not part on good terms." Harkon shrugged. "What else do you want to know?"

"That's all I wanted to ask." Carcette stated.

"Very well." Harkon sipped blood from his goblet once more, and then looked around, to see if another was around before beginning anew. "When I told you that I was grateful for my daughter's safe return, I told the truth. But I did not tell you everything."

"I suspected as much." Carcette said, crossing her arms.

"Good. Strong instincts and a cunning mind will serve you as well as blade, spell or claw." Harkon remarked. "As you know, vampires are powerful, but we have limits. Our great enemy is the sun, and until recently it's an enemy we've had no way to fight. For centuries I searched for an answer to this problem. I found an old prophecy written by a Moth Priest, those scholars who read the Elder Scrolls. The prophecy tells of a time in which vampires will gain power over the sun and will no longer fear its tyranny. I believe the secret to unraveling that prophecy is written in Serana's Elder Scroll. I have ordered the court to assemble. I have a new task for us all to carry out, and that includes you. Come now and hear my proclamation."

As soon as Harkon turned to the door, Carcette revealed the terror in her eye. Vampires gain power over the sun? Nothing could be more frightening. Such a notion would bring about a new era of darkness unprecedented upon Tamriel.

Sure enough, she stood beside Harkon on the upper Dining Hall balcony and he addressed the members of the court, who Garan Marethi assembled there.

Harkon extended his arms in proclamation."Scions of the night! Hear my words! The prophesied time is at last upon us. Soon we will claim dominion over the sun itself, and forge a new realm of eternal darkness. Now that I have reclaimed one of my Elder Scrolls, we must find a Moth Priest to read it. I have spread false rumors about the discovery of an Elder Scroll in Skyrim to lure a Moth Priest here. Now it is time to see if those efforts will bear fruit. Go forth, and search the land for rumors of a Moth Priest within our borders. Look to the cities. Speak to innkeepers, carriage drivers, anyone who would meet a traveler. Go now, and carry out this task. This is my command!"

Garan Marethi bowed. "It will be done, my lord!"

Ronthil was astounded. "A Moth Priest?"

Vingalmo scratched his chin. "Hm. Most interesting."

Harkon turned around to face Carcette. "And you, I want you to tear apart the rest of the Vigil of Stendarr. Rip them out, root and stem. Point vampires to the smaller locations that they operate in and have them slaughtered."

Carcette could not hide the horror in her face.

"Do you understand me?" Harkon asserted.

"Yes, sir." Carcette bowed and Harkon moved past her and headed back to his chambers.

Vingalmo then approached her, point-blank. "So, you're stronger than I gave you credit for. But don't worry; I've already sent a squadron to Stendarr's Beacon. They'll be dead by sunrise tomorrow. You're welcome." He smirked smugly and returned to his station.

Carcette felt the world spinning around her.

This was bad.

This was very bad.

She could no longer do this.

Serana came from the other side of the room discreetly and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Now's the time, I think." She gestured towards the front door.

"The... time?" Carcette's mind was wandering at the moment. She had incapacitated Cura. There was nobody there who could reach the Beacon and protect them. Then, she realized what Serana was getting at.

Serana simply nodded and hurried through the door, and Carcette ran after her.