Vilkas slept— troubling in his bed. He was sopped in sweat and winced as he writhed from haunting dreams. He could hear distant echoes in his head. A voice dark and ragged; calling out to him. He clutched his bed frame as he continued to curdle. He began to see an open field with a midnight sky; and the full two moons onlooking. His heart raced and blood rushed. The smell of the wilderness was vivid in his mind. He could smell hot blood rushing, and the yearning for the organ that flourished it through his prey's body. The heartbeat pumped faster, and a figure began to creep out the woods. His dreams would deteriorate and flex into different visions. He could see Farkas standing over his body, staring horrified. He could hear the call of his name.
'Vilkas.'
The voice echoed ominously. He thrashed his head to the side, still clutched in his dreams. Suddenly his vision went sprinting through the woods, not in his human form. His claws thrashed through soil as he sped through the plains, the beating of his heart pounding in his ears. The intensity of the hunt returned. He snarled and howled up to the moons, beckoning his prey. His vision distorted and went to a stone path, with his bare feet riddled in blood. A carriage lay to waste before him with ravaged bodies along the gruesome wreckage. Vilkas could see himself looking down to his hands which were sopped in blood that wasn't his.
'Vilkas. Your will is strong.'
His vision went back to the field, where the figure emerged through the fog. It wore a large animal headdress of a skinless buck, and bare muscles adorned in animal skins. It wielded a long spear in its arm. The figure towered over him, before kneeling down and reaching his hand out as Vilkas lay to the ground.
'But mine is stronger. You cannot outlast me, Vilkas. Join the hunt.'
His neck stiffened and what felt like a hand gripping his throat tightened violently, cutting him off from air. Vilkas awoke and shot up from bed, gasping frantically and clasping his throat. He let the cold sweat generously drip from his forehead. He stayed breathing for a while. His heart thrashed in his chest and dread started to build. Vilkas could feel his bottom lip quivering, and hot tears began to bubble in his eyes. He clasped his face and rubbed away the tears, pulling at his hair to the top of his scalp. He sat in his bed, hunched over, writhing from the terrible visions that had revealed.
Noises and shuffling could be heard in the hall as the doors to the living quarters slammed shut. Farkas was beckoning his room after an exuberant night and had Ysolda under his arm. Their chatter and laughs came closer to Vilkas's door, who still breathed heavily into his palms.
Ysolda purred to Farkas, "I've never stepped foot in this part of Jorrvaskr. Amazing. You just… live here?"
Farkas boasted, "Yup! I'm in the Circle so I get to boss people around, too."
She replied in a sultry tone, "Oh really? That's pretty alluring, I have to admit."
"Don't worry," he crooned seductively, "Tonight, I'll let you tell me what to do."
Ysolda giggled bashfully and she leaned in against him. They approached his room, where Farkas could immediately feel a cold sense as he passed Vilkas's door. He stopped at the door and looked back to his brother's room.
"What's wrong?" cooed Ysolda, placing her hand to Farkas's chest in concern.
"Nothing…" Farkas glowered, still looking to Vilkas's door, he added, "Hey… meet me upstairs? I wanna make you something to eat… I'll be just a minute, okay?"
Ysolda smiled before agreeing, "Oh, I suppose that's alright. I'll see you soon."
She winked and ambled upstairs to the main mead hall. Farkas only needed to be alone with his brother. He knocked to his door abruptly, almost an urgent knock. As if he was demanding to see him but without words.
Vilkas croaked from behind his door, "What…?"
Farkas demanded sternly, "Open up."
Vilkas shuffled to the door and pulled it open before thudding back to his bed. Farkas slowly crept inside, his face ridden in worry.
He asked in concern, "What's going on?"
Vilkas hunched over his bed and shrugged, "Trying to sleep."
"No, you're not," stated Farkas, "You were awake, I could feel it."
Vilkas scoffed, "You could feel it?"
"Yeah, I can," Farkas declared, "I can always tell when you're in trouble, remember?"
Vilkas shook his head, "Farkas. It's not real, you can't read my mind because we're twins."
"Sure, I can. I always have, just like how I've known you've been out of sorts for a while," Farkas glowered, "Almost as if you're not you anymore."
Vilkas looked up at Farkas with a broken stare, his eyes red and weary, "I'm fine."
Farkas shouted abruptly in impatience, "Stop saying that! You're not fine."
Vilkas gloomed into the floor and grumbled, "What do you want me to say, Farkas? You want the truth, do you?"
Farkas breathed out in relief and exclaimed, "Yeah! You won't talk. You shut yourself in this den all day and I don't see you. I don't know you! If the truth will fix it, then say it. Just say it, damn it!"
Slowly Vilkas's face turned to a scowl, as he looked up at Farkas in disdain, "You think things can ever be the same after what you did?! Do you have any idea what you've done? You made a pact with Kodlak and I! You swore you wouldn't transform anymore! Yet, here I am. The only one who abstains and the only one who suffers. Suddenly I don't know what I'm fighting for, or what it's worth."
He replied in a blather, "I had to turn to save myself and Mimzi. If it happened again, I'd do it again! I wouldn't hate you if you had to do the same. It's not my fault you can't control it!"
Vilkas snarled, "Everything comes easy for you, doesn't it?"
Farkas breathed out, frustrated as he couldn't collect his words to Vilkas, "I… I'm— I'm sorry I'm not you! I wish I could suffer from beast blood and hate everything like you do, maybe you'd talk to me then! We'd share some common ground, for once! I make you mad and you pretend everything is fine, and then shut me out."
"Okay…" Vilkas growled, and pointed out to the door, "You're done, get out!"
"No!" bellowed Farkas, stomping further into the room.
Vilkas shot up from his bed with a deep scowl, "Farkas, don't make me…"
"You're not my brother, anymore!" hollered Farkas and his voice broke, "You're not! I don't even know you… you've changed. You're hollow… and so angry. I can't do anything to help because when I do, you push me away. When all I'm trying to do is get my brother back!" tears swelled in his eyes as his lip shook. Farkas pressed his lips as he fought the tears.
Vilkas sighed, "I can't be your brother, Farkas," he muttered, "Not now. I can't bear to watch your fortitude, and then learn you still use it; you still hone your wolf. It's only making me despise you."
Farkas balked in disbelief, his eyes watered down as Vilkas coldly turned away from him and sat back onto his bed, cradling his head in his hands. Farkas remained speechless at what Vilkas had stated.
"Leave me," croaked Vilkas into his hands.
"Yeah, don't worry, I am," painfully muttered Farkas and slammed his door behind him and treaded back down the hall. Vilkas wiped his face of the oncoming tears. His brother was always a part of him, and at that moment he felt he was losing him. Vilkas violently kicked his end table making it jolt and crack at the wood. He sat in his bed aching from the deep hatred for himself which festered like a disease. He had gotten what he wanted— he was alone. Yet in that moment, his relief was overcome by dread.
The streets slowly began to empty as midnight crept over the lingering party of the Wind District. The New Life Festival was coming to its end. Lanterns were slowly put out, and tables cleared before being moved back to their steads. The firebugs scattered as townspeople waddled back to their homes, inebriated from the joyous feasting and drinking. Yet, revellers still remained in the square. Jarl Balgruuf, Sinmir, Ulfberth and Jon Battle-Born conversed and told stories, sat to the Gildergreen as they slowly sobered and relaxed after the energetic festivities. Irileth stayed to the distance resting against a ledge, observing the men. Kodlak emerged from his hall, and slowly stepped down.
Jarl Balgruuf called out, "Aha! The Harbinger just now beckons as the celebration comes to its end. What bitter luck."
They all met their eyes to a humble Kodlak, who smiled and waved at the revellers. He announced, "Good evening, my Jarl. You know me, I've never been one for crowds."
Jarl Balgruuf pulled out a chair from their table for Kodlak to be seated next to him, "Well, it's a good thing we stubborn few keep merry spirits as the lanterns are put out, and food all departed with. Take a seat. We're sharing tales of battle and glory."
Kodlak amicably agreed, "Good man, don't mind if I do," he plotted down and enjoyed company outside the hall, far from the hopeless reaching letters of his research.
Meanwhile, down the streets of Whiterun, Mimzi stumbled down the roads bare footed and giddy from mead. She swayed back and forth, lazily tossing her head up to the skies. She walked to and fro down the Plains District and towards the gates. Her sottish giggles under her breath tickled her senses, and with a bottle of mead in each hand, she took another swig from the right. She ventured further where she stumbled at the sight of two guardsmen peering around the corner. Mimzi crept along the walls of Warmaiden's and stayed quiet as they passed by, unknowing of her presence.
A guard asked to the other, "Did you unlock the gate?"
His comrade replied, "Nah, no one else is coming in or out tonight. I'll unlock it tomorrow morning. Beltold is good out front till then. I gotta track down Gorm, he's got the keys."
The other guard proclaimed, "If you say so, let's go up to the Wind District, maybe they still have some mead sitting around?"
His comrade laughed in response, "That sounds a lot more fun. Come on, let's go check."
The two guards sauntered up the hill where Mimzi crept out from the shadows and ambled to the gates. She looked over the walls of Whiterun and her excitement raised at what beauty lay out in the plains. She could see the aurora dance just before the walls, yet she'd have to get to the Cloud District for a better view. Enjoying the solitude of wandering with the fuzzy, warm feeling of the mead doing its work, she walked up over to the barracks just next to the gates. To its peak she still could not see the full view from where she stood. She saw an adjoining stone wall that reached to the tip over the city wall. Mimzi smirked mischievously and looked back— still unsteady, but no guards were around to see her. She crawled onto the stone ledge and pushed up. The stone lightly scratched at her bare legs as her dress pulled up. She struggled to keep her bottles in her clasp, but needed both her hands to keep balance as she reached the summit. The left bottle toppled from her hand and fell to the ground; crashing to pieces.
Mimzi whined to herself, "Oh, noooo," she took another struggled swig from her right bottle, still straddling onto the steep wall. She gulped and continued to climb up to the peak. She clasped her left hand to the top and pushed herself up onto the wall of Whiterun, which revealed the spectacular view of the dancing purple and blue aurora that hugged the skies. Mimzi leaned forward against the stone and tucked her hands under her legs. Her head rested to one side and her blue eyes glimmered against the glowing aurora. It began to dance and sprawl. It brightly greeted the terrain of the plains. The puddles and ponds sparkled, and mountain snow shined like diamonds against the light. She smiled in delight.
The view took Mimzi back to her time in Sovngarde. It was brief and filled with a feeling of intense fear, yet the Hall of Valor still beckoned her. As she walked the hall of Shor's chosen, she felt at peace, at home. A feeling she was familiar with as she smiled up to the gleaming northern skies. She had found her place in the Companions; she was making a name for herself that wasn't associated to her dragon blood. She was her; Mimzi. A Companion. She was a person who had a home. In her twenty years of life, she shuddered at the thought. She had found her home. Right in this moment as she awed at Skyrim's landscape, she knew for certain it was true. She was home. The unimaginable terror of Alduin was departed from the world. The dragons scattered and continued to live on in fear at the summit of their mountain tops. Delphine and Esbern were safe at the Sky Haven Temple, as the Greybeards continued their meditating to Kyne at High Hrothgar; their work was done. Her work was done. Her dragon blood had only nudged her in the direction she had longed her entire life. To be something great, and with purpose to serve her people. She counted the many times she had passed Jorrvaskr without pondering its contents. The faces she saw within that hall she'd see for a lifetime. If her fate as a Companion was true, she would have a home. The power that lingered just behind her tongue was no longer needed. She was free from her prophecy, Mimzi was free of being Dragonborn. The thought was comfort she relished in as she sat to the tip of Whiterun's southern wall.
Mimzi looked down to the path to see a large group of shrouded travellers beckoning the gate.
She smirked and said to herself in singsong, "You're too laaaate." She took another lazy swig of her bottle, observing what she perceived as latecomers to the festival. Mimzi's delight ceased as she noticed a faint glimmer to one of their eyes, which glowed red with yellow pupils. She immediately shot up, dropping her remaining bottle to the ground of Whiterun. She had seen those eyes before, and they were not of any mortal mer or man. Only one guard stood to the gates, who immediately called out to the travellers.
"Hey! City is closed! If you're here for the festival you're four hours too late. Move on."
"Shame," one of the travellers spoke in a leeching voice, "We were so looking forward to the festivities."
The guard took notice of their glowing eyes, which stayed shrouded under their cloaks. The guard began to stammer as panic flooded through, "What… what are you?"
The traveller beamed a fiendish grin, "Well we're revellers, of course! Why else would we come to your fine city on such a night as this. If we've come too late, we'd at least enjoy a place to stay. We are… famished."
Mimzi began to breathe hard as she struggled off the wall and back onto the barracks roof. She stumbled and staggered, trying to prevent herself from falling off, and forcing herself to sober at the fear of what was occurring outside the gate. She knew she had to reach the Jarl, as quickly as she could muster before she was too late.
"There's no way any of you will be setting foot in this city…" the guard glowered, reaching his hand to his hilt, "Now… leave."
"That's not very hospitable, is it?" the traveller lunged at the guard with his mouth wide and fangs raised. The guard shrilled as his back thudded to the ground, and the vampire's fangs sunk into the flesh of his neck. The guard screamed before his neck was snapped by the fed vampire.
"Well… let's bring in the new year, shall we?" grinned the vampire demonically and his peers joined in. They summoned fire to their palms in unison. All threw flames from their palms which began to slowly incinerate the wooden gates.
Mimzi bolted up the Plains District, bellowing out to those who could hear her, "Help! Help! The gate!"
Jarl Balgruuf and Kodlak could hear her shrills as they beckoned closer up to the Wind District. They both looked and shot up at the sight of her frantically approaching with fear-stricken eyes.
"They are at the gate!!" screamed Mimzi to the Jarl and Kodlak.
"Mimzi…" Kodlak spoke, "What is happening?!"
"Who is at the gate?" demanded Jarl Balgruuf. Guardsmen stumbled off their hides, unsheathing their swords.
"There's a brigade of them! Please! Vampires!" screamed Mimzi, "Vampires at the gate! Protect the gate!"
Jarl Balgruuf and Kodlak unsheathed their swords as they turned aghast, but not to Mimzi's words— to the gaggle of hooded vampires that revealed themselves as they crept up into the Wind District.
"Oh, looks like they left us some refreshments, after all! What a treat… I love Whiterun," the vampire gleamed. Mimzi looked down to the Plain District to see rising flames lifting from the gate doors.
"Mimzi! Get down!" screamed Jarl Balgruuf. A vampire brought an ice spell to his hand and threw a icicle spear from his palm. Mimzi ducked down hard where the ice collided with their table. The men threw themselves out of the way. Sinmir and Ulfberth pulled their warhammers out, and Jon unsheathed his sword. The commotion startled the wandering villagers who screamed in terror— running for their lives through the streets. Sinmir lunged his warhammer at the first vampire. Before his hammer could fall, he was stopped brutally by an ice spike in his gullet.
"Sinmir!!" hollered Ulfberth in pain to his fallen friend.
A war broke out in the Wind District between the guardsmen, Kodlak, Jarl Balgruuf, Irileth, Jon Battle-Born and Ulfberth against the gaggle of vampires. They threw the collateral forces of magic from their palms. Irileth swooped from a trail of a fire ball and plunged her sword into a vampire's stomach, while Jarl Balgruuf jammed his sword into a vampire's back which pursued her.
Suddenly, another group of vampires began to emerge from the fallen gates, followed by black, undead hounds with razor sharp fangs, and frostbite spiders. Mimzi bolted to the nearest shop she could think of in the middle of the firefight. She pounded through Belethor's door to his store. Where the Breton inside jolted at the violent entrance. He came sprawling from downstairs in his sleepwear.
"What in the world are you doing?!" blathered Belethor, stumbling down the steps.
"Hide! Now! We're under attack!" blurted Mimzi and she began to raid a sword and shield from his stock.
Belethor berated, "What do you think you're doing?! You need to pay for that!"
Mimzi bolted out the door before yelling up to him, "I'll pay you back!"
She slammed the door behind her where vampires charged towards her. One lifted its palm and summoned red mist from his fingertips. Mimzi raised her shield at the drain spell and bashed the vampire back. He fell to the ground where Mimzi punctured her sword down into the monster's heart.
Aela and Skjor came running from the yard to the front of Jorrvaskr at the sound of clamour. They balked at the sight of their kinsmen against an army of vampires. Ysolda and Farkas opened the front doors behind them, Ysolda released a frightened scream.
"Back inside now!" barked Farkas at Ysolda, "Get the whelps, and my brother. Go!" Ysolda jammed back inside the hall.
Farkas drew his greatsword and spat, "Vampires? Why are they attacking us?!"
"Who cares? Let's tear them apart!" growled Skjor.
He ran down the steps with his sword in hand. Aela drew her bow and used her strategic point up on the ledge of Jorrvaskr to shoot the invaders. Farkas charged at a death hound sprinting to the Jarl and thrashed it in half with his greatsword.
"RAAAAARGH!!" roared Skjor and disarmed a vampire beckoning Kodlak from behind, as he were busy with another. Skjor grabbed the monster's shoulder and dug his blade into its gut, it roared venomously before falling dead. Kodlak slashed the throat of the vampire pursuing him.
Skjor barked to Kodlak, "They're all over the place, Kodlak! We need to turn!"
Kodlak bellowed in response, "Are you mad?!"
Another death hound came howling and sprawled at Skjor. Kodlak pushed in front of him and whipped his sword up, slashing the death hounds' belly and chest with one swipe. The monster flopped on the ground dead.
Kodlak demanded, "You want to kill the monsters or become one yourself? Don't let your heart fade now! Defend Whiterun!"
Inside the hall down in the living quarters, Ysolda bursted through the doors with a shrill voice, "Vampires are in the city! Vampires!!"
Ria, Torvar, Njada and Athis were all jesting and lounging in their beds before her interruption. They puzzled at her, then gawked to each other in determination. They grabbed at their armour and weapons and sprinted in a line out the hall to join the fight. Vilkas crept from his room at the commotion. Athis was at the rear of his comrades as he noticed Vilkas walking cautiously out to the hall.
"Master! Come quick! We are under attack!" bellowed Athis down the hall before running through the doors. Vilkas took pause and slowly paced back to his room which turned to a panicked jog. He snatched his armour back on, and his scabbard. He sheathed his greatsword and a bow and quiver. He bolted out his room and to the commotion in Whiterun's streets.
They met outside the doors where the whelps stood petrified at the sight of the sprawling menace that unleashed on Whiterun. Guards were being torn apart by death hounds, and villager's homes raided. Vampires feasted in the middle of the stink of battle, sucking the blood from their fallen victims. All along the ravaged decorations of the New Life Festival.
More vampires pursued the surviving fighters; Aela, Skjor, Kodlak, Jarl Balgruuf, Jon Battle-Born and Irileth. Vilkas jumped through the whelps, aiding in the fight. Two vampires came sprinting at him. One held an ice spike incantation to his palm. He shot an ice spear at Vilkas, who timely dodged by tucking and rolling to the side. He planted his feet and thrashed his giant sword along the legs of the other vampire; which cut them off by the knee. He shot up swiftly, and grasped his hilt in both hands. He jammed the blade into vampire's abdomen; who ran right into Vilkas's swipe. He ripped his sword from the monsters, where rushing blood spurted out and splattered his armour. Another vampire stepped up behind him, about to use her drain spell.
Vilkas roared a laugh, "Ha-ha! I love a challenge!"
He leapt to the side, trying to outrun the spell. As the red glimmer started to leech the blood from his face, he threw his greatsword out his grasp to the side. It spun straight and planted into the vampire's arm and chest. She fell, mortally wounded to the ground. Vilkas marched to her body, his scowl as merciless as winter. The vampire whimpered and cried. Vilkas ripped the sword from her body, making her cry in pain. He held it by the hilt with both hands and stabbed directly down through her heart. A death hound sprinted and pounced up at him, tackling him down to the stone path. His sword went flying against the ground. The death hound bit deeply into Vilkas's shoulder, causing him to roar in pain. He threw his elbow up, hitting the monster in the head. It whimpered while thudding off him, giving Vilkas the leverage to turn to his back. The death hound went to bite his neck again. He grabbed it by the neck, keeping it's chomping fangs away. It snarled and barked, and the stink of death rose from its breath as coppery saliva dipped off its tongue. Vilkas released a blood curdling roar and pushed up on its neck with his right hand, using his left fist to clamour the beasts head; sending it to its side, where Vilkas jumped up on top of it. He pulled a dagger from his boot quickly, then whilst holding the flailing hound to the ground— he punctured through its neck with the blade.
Vilkas breathed heavily and growled in a hoarse voice, "Getting out this pent-up energy… feels kinda good."
Mimzi was engulfed in the Plains District, aiding the guardsmen. Ulfberth and Amren, a redguard mercenary, fought alongside her to steer the monsters at bay. Amren was quickly mauled by vampires as his strength waned and he was surrounded. Mimzi turned in horror to the ravaged screams of Amren behind her.
"No!" cried Mimzi helplessly.
She threw a fire spell from her hands at the feasting vampires. They squealed and scattered. Mimzi picked them off one by one, as their undead flesh still melted from her flames. She knelt down to Amren who lay still and without breath.
"He's gone, come on!" yelled Ulfberth to Mimzi, who gritted her teeth in rage.
"Get back to your house, Ulfberth, now! Protect your wife! There's too many of them," barked Mimzi, "Go!"
Ulfberth scrambled back to Warmaiden's. Adrianne hid behind a counter, with tears in her eyes. She shot up and cried, "Ulfberth! What is happening?!"
He grabbed a hammer and nails and began barricading the door to his store; he yelled to his wife, "Go to the back room and board that door, too! Now, Adrianne!" She balked in horror and scrambled out of the counter, snatching wooden frames, nails and a hammer.
"Kodlak!" cried Vilkas to his master in the Wind District, "What are we to do? There's too many!" Farkas, Aela, Skjor, and the four whelps gathered around them: frantically breathing. Jarl Balgruuf ran up to them with a blood-stained blade.
Kodlak declared, "We need to section off the city. Balgruuf, where do you want us?"
Jarl Balgruuf paced his eyes around the city, excitedly. He demanded, "Kodlak and Skjor, stay to the Wind District, fend them off! The twins can scour the streets— defending my people! Aela, get down to the Plains District and join Mimzi's fight at the gates. Irileth and I will meet you there!"
Aela asked, "Mimzi? You mean the whelp?!"
Irileth bellowed, "My Jarl, they are raging at the gates! I will fight tooth and nail to defend you, but I cannot promise your safety down in that pit…"
"Dammit, woman! My life isn't what's important here! It's our city!" hollered Jarl Balgruuf to his housecarl and the two fled down the steps to the Plains District, through the clashing carnage of guards and vampires.
"What about us?" blurted Njada, referring to herself and the three whelps.
Kodlak ordered, "Defend Jorrvaskr!" Njada, Torvar, Athis and Ria sprinted back to the front of the doors to their mead hall.
Aela sprinted down to the growing carnage. She hastened in horror at the sight of her kinsmen being torn to shreds by death hounds and frost bite spiders that scattered the streets among their masters, the vampires. That wreaked their foul magic along the once blooming flowers and bountiful carts that lined the streets. She could see Mimzi surrounded by defending guards, and the head, Commander Cauis, skirmishing to the middle of the streets before the gates, all riddled in dripping sweat. She ran up the incline towards the Drunken Huntsman at the top of a hill. Suddenly, a vampire pounced from the shadows and tackled Aela to the ground. They toppled down the hill and to the stone path. The vampire widened its mouth to reveal their fangs. She ached and strained the vampire's mouth away from her with a firm grip to its neck. Its strength persevered and dug its sharp fingernails into her forearms. Aela winced in pain as her face turned red; working with every muscle in her upper core to fend the creature off her.
Aela shot her knee up at the vampire's groin and pulled her dagger from her right boot, then jammed the blade into its neck. The vampire shrilled and jumped back to clutch the wound, granting Aela release from its grip, briefly. It sprang at her again and sunk its fangs into her shoulder. Aela screamed and plowed it back with her elbow. She threw a punch at its nose, causing the monster to topple back to the ground. She quickly grabbed an arrow and drew her bow as the monster staggered.
"You've got a mean bite," snarled Aela, then shot an arrow directly between its eyes. It thudded back and stayed down. Aela winced at her bite, and growled to its dead body, "But mine is far worse."
She ran back up the incline to the Drunken Huntsman doors, and nearly tripped over the body of Jenassa, a stoic dark elf mercenary that had fallen in action, defending her city to her last breath. Aela's eyes wilted and respectfully stepped over the fallen corpse. She aimed her bow down to the firefight below. Monsters reigned aimlessly attacking and killing the valiant guards one by one. She aimed her bow at a vampire beckoning a guard with his back turned to it, and the arrow shot through its heart. Aela shot two more that were feeding on the corpse of another guard. Her aim stayed precise, even during the chaotic battle as it raged on fiercely along the road. Mimzi shook to a vampire with a lightning spell in its palm. It came at her and shot a bolt to her. She quickly ducked and rolled out the way of the strike.
"You cannot evade my darkness! You are food!" the vampire bellowed maliciously, then began to cackle as he whipped another lightning strike to Mimzi; zapping the sword from her clasp.
She gripped her shield and charged at the vampire. It struck lightning to her once more, which collided into the shield, and travelled to her wrist and arm. She threw backwards from the power of the spell and toppled to the ground, back first. Mimzi seared in pain at the tingling and numbness that followed the powerful jolt of electric shock which carried through the shield, and into her body. Her arm was almost totally numb. The vampire grinned and stepped closer to the fallen girl; his fangs out and ready to feed. Suddenly an arrow came like the speed of light and broke through the vampire's neck. It gargled and fell before Mimzi, who gasped before gawking to where the arrow journeyed. Aela nodded to her as she stood before the doors of the Drunken Hunstman. Mimzi nodded back, a hopeful smile crept from her horrified gawk. She shot back up as the lightning spell effects slowly dwindled and rejoined the fight.
Vilkas and Farkas scoured through streets in the Wind District. Screams of villagers roared in buildings, where their doors were broken in. A death hound pulled Carlotta from her home by the foot. She thrashed and wailed in desperate screams as her hand reached out to her daughter, who stood in the doorway.
"Mama!" shrilled Mila, petrified and still. Vilkas charged to the hound and sliced it through with his sword. Carlotta bellowed in fear at the convulsing creature that lay dead. Vilkas picked her up and carried her back inside with Mila.
He raised to Carlotta, "Do you have a cellar?!"
"Ye..Yes. Over there," she pointed to a trapdoor to the far side of the dining room. Mila followed closely, scared for her mother. Vilkas set Carlotta down and opened the cellar door.
"Get in, both of you," demanded Vilkas to the child and her mother. They crawled down into the cellar where Vilkas closed the trap door behind them. As he turned to the front door, two frostbite spiders scuttled into the house hissing. He lunged his sword again at the beasts which toppled over each other in their own gray blood. He stepped over the arachnid's corpses and out of Carlotta's home.
He ran to the adjacent house. The door was already kicked in and the dead body of Uthgerd the Unbroken lay ravaged in her own home. Vilkas stomped towards her and knelt down, hoping for a pulse. Her skin was as cold as snow, with no colour in her once reddened cheeks and no life returned in her dull eyes. There were thick gnashes into her neck that revealed flesh and artery, and cold blood sopped into the wood floors. He could feel his lip beginning to twitch in intense anger. The filth that invaded his home brought strife and suffering to the people he had known his whole life in Whiterun. He left her home and went to the one next door, but the doors were barred, and windows boarded from inside. Vilkas stayed vigilant to his surroundings as the strife waged down by the gates. He prayed the monsters had been purged from the Wind District. He ran to the Grey-Mane home. Their doors were locked, and windows shuttered. He could hear frantic tones of Eorland and his son, and footsteps from inside. He pounded on the door until an ice spike came colliding a few inches from his head and into the splintering wood of the door. Vilkas turned back to two vampires chuckling deviously, two female Nords with glowing red eyes and small, yellow pupils. They grinned with their fangs.
"Oh my, look what we have here, Leynora. A hero in shining armour," leered the first vampire.
The other spoke, "He's handsome, isn't he? So broody and dour. Mysteriously alluring."
The first replied, "You want the honour of feeding? Or can I?"
"No way! He's mine. Go get your own!" the other growled at her comrade.
The first vampire alarmed, "I've gotta say, Leynora, he stinks. These Nord men don't know how to bathe… smells like a wet dog."
"Who cares? I don't plan on feeding on him anyway. Look at those piercing silver eyes— so dreamy. They'll be even better when they glow red," the second vampire said maliciously.
Vilkas reached his greatsword up and snarled, "You try to sink your teeth into me, I'll do the same to your throat."
The vampire giddily chuckled, "He knows just what to say to make a girl excited."
Vilkas raced at them with his sword drawn and swiped his blade at the first, who quickly lunged away. The other pounced on his back; trying to bite his neck. He grabbed her hair and ripped down making the vampire scream as she was thrown off him. The other vampire summoned a spell to her hand and cast it at a fallen guard. Slowly his body reanimated and crawled up from the ground with his axe in his grasp. Vilkas had seen the guard before; a young man who just joined Whiterun's forces. The young man was no longer in his eyes. Its gaze returned as hollow and possessed. His jaw slagged and eyes dull of any humanity. Vilkas sneered in disgust at the display of necromancy and defilement of his kinsmen.
Farkas bolted up to the Battle-Born manor, where irate screaming was heard before the ravaged doors.
Olfrid swung his blade at the cackling vampires who beckoned him, he snarled hoarsely, "You damn bloodsuckers come into my home, destroy my door, and break my furnishings and think you're going to get a free meal?! Ha! Over my dead body!!" His wife cowered in the corner behind him as the old man diligently protected her from the vampires.
Farkas rammed his sword into the first vampire's back, picking his body up and throwing it aside. He roared and slashed his sword again at another's head, decapitating it clean off. The last vampire cowered back from Farkas, who growled; ready to swing his blade. Olfrid quickly dug his blade into the vampires back. Their bodies fell before the squealing wife, who buried her head into her hands.
"We're safe now, my dear, we're safe. Get into the cellar with the others, before more night stalkers sculk into our home!" ordered Olfrid to his wife, who pattered away swiftly to their trap door.
Olfrid turned to Farkas with a pallor look and cried, "But where is my boy?! Where is Jon? Have you seen him?"
Farkas shook his head, "He was in the Wind District fending them off. I don't know where he went. Don't worry, I'll find him. Go with your wife. Now!"
"Gods guide you, Farkas. Please, bring my boy home. I beg of you!" cried Olfrid then jogged to the trap door. Farkas bolted out the manor and back to the streets echoing in blasts of magic, steel, and screams.
He ran out to Vilkas fending off two vampires, and a raised zombie of a deceased guard. Farkas growled deeply and ran his blade straight through the zombie, which roared and fell to ash as the spell lifted from its bones. Vilkas clanged blades with an armed vampire, who's quick feet and light weapon bested Vilkas's heavy steel armour. He swung and missed as the vampire quickly dodged from strikes. The other crept behind him with her fangs out and bit into his neck. Vilkas screamed and threw his elbow into the vampire, booting it off him. Farkas kicked the vampire down and stuck the sword straight down to its heart. Vilkas kicked the other one back and slashed his sword through its neck. He clasped at his bleeding neck that writhed from the bite.
"You okay?" sternly asked Farkas.
"Fine…" growled Vilkas— his hand patting away the blood to his neck, "I know you don't believe me when I say that, but I am."
Farkas shrugged, "At least I don't have to worry about you becoming a vamp. One curse at a time, right? Come on, we haven't checked all the homes yet."
Vilkas uttered, "I have. People are either dead or in hiding. No more monsters up here. They're all down in the Plains District."
Farkas raised, "What about Jon Battle-Born, you seen him?"
Vilkas rejoined, "No. I thought he was with the Jarl?"
"No, he wasn't, he disappeared shortly after you got there…"
Vilkas seethed and clenched his teeth, "Damnit!"
Suddenly loud screaming and commotion came from the Gray-Mane home. Vilkas and Farkas peered back at their manor, where looming shadows moved erratically off the building.
Farkas blathered, "I thought you said you checked everywhere?!"
"I did! The door was locked!" barked Vilkas back to him. The two sprinted to the manor, where they could hear the desperate cries of Jon Battle-Born.
"Olfina! No!"
Outside the manor was a vampire over Olfina Gray-Mane, it's fangs into her neck as she writhed weakly. Jon was on the ground with another vampire over him, trying to sink its teeth in. He fought fervently with the monster in endowed rage. Vilkas ran to Jon and kicked the vampire off. He swung his blade over like the swing of an axe, where the vampires blood lifted into the air at the impact. Farkas grabbed the vampire off Olfina, who breathed raggedly. He slammed the vampire up against the wall, where Vilkas came up and stabbed his sword into its stomach. Jon staggered upwards and crawled to Olfina, who lay pale and semi-conscious.
"My love. Oh, my dear Olfina. I'm so sorry… I couldn't protect you," cried Jon. He cradled Olfina into his arms and kissed her forehead. She gripped his chest.
She whimpered, "I'm… okay, Jon. I'll be okay. I have you."
Vilkas studied her bite, which was swollen and veined, then stated, "She'll be fine, get her somewhere safe. But she has the disease, I can see it. Her bite says it all."
Jon balked and shook his head up at Vilkas before saying, "You mean she's going to become a vampire?! What do I do? No!"
"It takes three days for the disease to turn to vampirism, so don't worry. She'll be cured. Just keep her safe and get down to a cellar!" ordered Vilkas.
Suddenly the doors of the Gray-Mane manor threw open, and out came Eorland with a battleaxe in his claw, he balked at Olfina held in Jon's arms.
"No!" hollered Eorland, "Olfina!" he growled to Jon, "What did you do to my daughter?! You're why she didn't come home! You let her get bitten?!"
"Eorland, get her inside and keep your family hidden. She can be cured," called Vilkas to the blacksmith, who lifted her up from Jon's arms. Eorland carried Olfina back inside their home and slammed the doors behind them, locking it shut.
"Jon, your father is asking for you, go!" barked Farkas, "This isn't a choice, go now!"
Jon seethed as he pressed himself off the ground, and stayed worrisome to the Gray-Mane doors.
"Go, Jon," said Vilkas, his dull eyes pitiful to his friend's plight. Jon huffed and bolted down the road to the Battle-Born manor, where the brothers keenly watched till he made it safely inside. Their sights went to the clamour of war that raged loudly into the Plains District, where Kodlak and Skjor had fled after barricading the stairs to the Wind District.
"Let's go," growled Vilkas and ran down into the market, with Farkas in tow.
Guards stayed vigilantly protecting the road up to the higher reaches of Whiterun from vampire invasion, while Mimzi and Irileth defended the gates. Jarl Balgruuf jammed his sword into the ear of a vampire and kicked it back. Commander Cauis sliced the throat of one vampire with his sword but was overcome by death hounds. They gnawed and tore flesh from Cauis's arms. He hollered in horrified agony as their gnashing fangs bit into his armour. They dragged him away into the shadows to feed, away from the fight.
"Mimzi!" belted Jarl Balgruuf to her as his faith daunted, "You're going to have to use it, eventually! We need it now more than ever before!"
Mimzi slashed the stomach of an oncoming vampire and kicked away the one who came from behind. She knew of what Jarl Balgruuf spoke of, but given her need to keep her powers at bay and resist the calling of her bloodline; she refuted.
"No!" snapped Mimzi, "We got this!"
"We don't!" cried Irileth, "They are overtaking us!" she threw off two frostbite spiders who crawled over her and used her abilities of magic to turn them into charcoal with flame.
Skjor and Kodlak poured oil to the floor of Whiterun streets, with Mimzi catching notice. She slashed at oncoming vampires who began to flood to the Wind District's side entrance. She raged as their numbers overwhelmed. Cluttered bodies of Whiterun guard lined the streets. Frostbite spiders crawled over the roofs of homesteads, breaking in through the upper windows. Smoke wafted from the fires caused by the arcane destruction. Her home was in ruin. Anger built generously within her throat. Mimzi's fear to unleash the rage, kept it at bay. She could see the numbers of the Circle begin to delve into war alongside her and the Jarl. Mimzi could see more vampires emerging from the fallen gates. They raised their hands with destruction spells; ready to cast them at her and her peers. She seethed and clenched her teeth. Mimzi could feel the power course through her once again; the first time in a long time.
Jarl Balgruuf bellowed to her as he fended off another vampire, "You slay dragons, Mimzi! Do it now!"
She stomped towards the gaggle of fiends and her eyes began to glow light blue. Mimzi clenched her fists and parted her jaw to release the power that erupted inside her throat. It blasted out her mouth with force. Unrelenting force. To the Circle's terrified attention— a thunderous clap shook and echoed.
"FUS… RO… DAH!!"
The Thu'um unleashed a mighty blow that threw the vampire's backs against the ground; colliding into debris and buildings. Mimzi stood before the fallen monsters as her eyes slowly glimmered back to her normal blue. The Circle shook in confusion and horror at the blast. Kodlak and Skjor stared in awe at the revealing of the Thu'um from the newest whelp. Vilkas and Farkas turned back with bewildered fright, as Aela gawked from the Drunken Hunstman; lowering her bow in awe at Mimzi.
"She's… the Dragonborn?" gasped Skjor, unsure of what he was seeing was true. Kodlak crept a hopeful smile, but his delight was soon cut short as a vampire used a drain life spell to him. Kodlak cried and fell to his knees at the pain of the spell. His essence was slowly draining from the vampire's clasp.
"No!!" howled Skjor, he charged at the vampire and slashed its head off; ceasing the spell abruptly. He went to his master and helped him off the ground. Kodlak struggled as he stepped up and breathed hoarsely. The vampires thrown by Mimzi's Shout were easily picked off by the brigade of valiant fighters who defended Whiterun. Surviving vampires fled with their death hounds in fear as their numbers wavered, however, the vengeful rue of the guard followed mercilessly to destroy them. Farkas ran to Jarl Balgruuf's assistance with the vampires at his flank. A vampire threw a fireball at Farkas's clasp. He released his sword as the fire singed the skin on his hand. Farkas growled menacingly and marched towards the monster, undaunted. It cowered in fear at the large, hulking Nord coming to him. Farkas snatched its throat and picked him off the ground easily. The vampire choked and wheezed; waggling his feet off the ground before Farkas threw it with brunt force back down. He stomped its head repeatedly till it's excruciating wails hushed, and blood painted the stone path.
They paced around the buildings and growing fire for more lingering red eyes among the shadows. Soon they all reunited to the front of Warmaiden's.
Jarl Balgruuf panted, "With any luck, that's all of them. Well done, all of you. You saved the city. Now all that's left is to repair our livelihoods and spirits."
Kodlak barked, "What is happening?! Why are vampire's so brazenly attacking Whiterun? They wouldn't dare enter our borders."
"I don't know… someone came…" Jarl Balgruuf stopped himself and rejoined, "I never would have expected this would happen, but I was warned. All this destruction is because of me."
"My Jarl…" Irileth sighed and stepped to Balgruuf, laying her hand to his shoulder.
Skjor shouted, "You knew about this? What do you mean?"
"Enough, Skjor," Kodlak intervened, "There is no time for this while our city burns. We must salvage what we have left!" he asked Jarl Balgruuf, "What do you need from us, Jarl?"
Jarl Balgruuf looked around to the destruction at their feet. Deceased town guard were jammed amongst the bodies of vampires and vermin. His gates lay ravaged; leaving the city exposed. His wilted eyes glared up at the eager warriors all awaiting his word. He demanded, "Aela and Mimzi, go get the whelps from Jorrvaskr. We need numbers to help extinguish the blaze."
Aela nodded her head and obliged, "Yes, my Jarl," she sprinted up the Wind District. Mimzi followed her in earnest.
"Vilkas and Farkas, I need you to gather up the townspeople. Get them to Dragonsreach, in case any more monsters try to leech their way inside."
The brothers replied in unison, "Yes, sir!"
"My Jarl…" Irileth interjected, "What do you need of me in this hour?"
Jarl Balgruuf ordered to his fearless housecarl, "Irileth, please route the remaining soldiers. They need a strong figure now to ground them in this terror. I need teams to assist putting out the fire, cleaning the carnage and assisting the wounded."
She blurted back, "Right away, my Jarl," she turned to the guards aimlessly gawking at the destruction and wandering disorientated. She barked orders at the men, where they snapped out of their glances of horror and obeyed their housecarl.
"Kodlak and Skjor, assist me and the guard with the wounded, and identify the dead. I pray Danica and Arcadia survived, we will need them," dejectedly said Jarl Balgruuf.
Skjor replied, "Yes, Jarl. But what of the gate? Who will keep guard while we tend to the wounded and deceased?"
Jarl Balgruuf looked to Kodlak and lamented, "These fiends tore down our gate, butchered my men and preyed on my people. In numbers they nearly destroyed us if not for the efforts of you and your Companions. We are wounded now, my guard were not prepared for the vampires. We are not trained. I am not equipped for this. But I know those who are…"
Kodlak replied, "Who is, Jarl Balgruuf?"
Jarl Balgruuf called over a guard that sifted through ash to find deceased, "Hey! You there! Come here…"
The guard immediately stood vigilant and approached the Jarl steadfast, "Yes, Jarl Balgruuf?"
"I need you to send a message for me, in The Rift," the Jarl proclaimed.
"Yes, sir! But… where in the Rift will I be heading? And what message?"
"The far southeast, Dayspring Canyon. You'll be speaking to Isran. Tell him he was right… and tell him we need help," Jarl Balgruuf said defeatedly, "Make haste. This is a big ask but I need you to be successful. Keep your eyes open and wary of the shadows. Take cure disease potions with you."
"Yes, my Jarl. I'll leave immediately," the guard saluted and retreated to the barracks in preparation for his journey.
Kodlak asked to the Jarl in worry, "Isran? Who is this and why do we need their help?"
Jarl Balgruuf replied, "He's the leader of the Dawnguard. Vampire hunters. We need experts, and we can't waste another minute while our city is in shambles. We need help."