As Cura, Lydia, and Inigo took a few days of respite in Windhelm in preparation for their journey to Markarth, things were quiet throughout the province; it would seem the gods had blessed the denizens of Skyrim with a small grace period, as towns were quiet and peaceful in that time.
The group took their Steeds and rode along the mountain passes, and justified that if they could make the whole journey in a day and some. Cura could Fast Travel in theory, but after what occurred the last time, she was hesitant to do so.
The trio decided horseback would be the best option, at least until Cura felt safe to defy Nature again.
Lydia was just relieved that she could ride Joile with Cura, and not Rex with Inigo. it made his obnoxious singing that much more tolerable to her ears, given some distance. Normally it was Mjoll who accompanied him anyways, but now she could just egg Cura on to move faster.
Their ride was a rugged one getting through Eastmarch, with Trolls and other fiends, but they managed it thus far. They knew the trek around the Throat of the World would be a little tricky, but they would deal with that when the time came.
The air was dry and deathly still in the Pale that evening. Surely, a grand snowfall was to begin soon, indicated by the gray clouds hanging overhead; it just needed time to reach them, but it was certain as the day is long. Otherwise, they would have to change their name from "The Pale" to the "Almost-always Pale." The Hall of the Vigilant was silent and still, as well, that day to the prying eye.
The Keeper sat at her desk with a quill in hand. An exhibition taken in Solitude turned out well; they had driven a Vampire out of the sewers beneath the city, and the Keeper joyfully accepted the payment of 2000 gold from Jarl Elisif the Fair's attendant, who made his way to the Pale through the harsh snow the morning earlier. She sent him off with a mere 20 gold for his trouble and asked him to pass her gratitude on to the Blue Palace. In spite of confused glares from the other Vigilants, she stood by her decision, as it seemed more in-line with their tenets. What did they expect her to give him, 1000 septims? No. That money they would put to more important use.
Indeed; Stendarr knows that new robes and new sets of armour do not just appear out of thin air, and they still need to hire a capable smith or carpenter somewhere in Dawnstar to do something about the roof; it was unfit to act as such; she had it replaced already months ago, but snow was already accumulating in the rafters again. More unneeded expenses.
She was, herself, in the middle of writing to her superiors in the Imperial City to inform them of recent changes and improvements made over the year, and she would even give Cura a glowing review for all the young one has done and sacrificed for the Vigil.
And when she would be done with that, she would have to write another appeal to the Jarl, Skald the Elder, spelling it out to him, preferably in a sentence of two words or less so he can understand, that, in no uncertain terms, a holy order is supposed to be freed from taxes. Nothing was sacred to the Stormcloaks unless it involved Talos in some way.
Moric cropped up from the doorway, his face filled with fret. "Keeper, you're, uh, needed out-outside." He was anxious. How come? It's not as though the Jarl sent men over to extort them of every last septim in their coffers. Or did he? Knowing that buffoon Skald, one could never be too surprised.
"What is it, now?" Carcette barked back.
"J-just come out. Please." Moric kept shifting his gaze to the main hall and back at Carcette, irritating the Keeper.
Keeper Carcette rolled her eyes and exhaled as she pushed her chair back and walked around it. When she exited her bedroom, the heavy scent of decay filled the air. She saw many Vigilants of Stendarr walking around, performing their duties as normal.
She curled her nose. "Ew... did something die in here?" The odour was somewhere within the room, and it did not take long to narrow it down. One of the Vigilants slowly turned around to look at her, and that was when she saw it; those glowing red eyes.
"Vampire!" The Keeper shouted at the top of her lungs in horror and pointed to the red-eyed Vigilant as the other Vigilants on her floor glared at him as well.
"Tsk. Was it that obvious?" The impostor quickly pulled off the Vigilant Robes to reveal a solid black-and-gray vampiric armour beneath. He placed his index finger and thumb in the corners of his mouth, navigating around his snaggled fangs in the process, and blew a loud whistle.
And then the true horror began.
From the small rooms on the west side of the Hall, shaded figures with glowing red eyes slowly began to emerge from every nook and cranny, seemingly emerging from the walls themselves like a misshapen fog.
"One of yours has been poking his nose into our business." The leading Vampire stated. "Adalvald.."
That fool! What has he been doing? The Keeper stood her ground, even if she took a couple of steps backwards, bumping her lower back against the corner of the Shrine table.
The air was tense and heavy with burden and fear,
There were at least ten Vampires in the room. One alone was difficult to manage at the best of times. There were Vigilants downstairs at this point that were still recuperating from the mission in Solitude, in no condition to fight again. Clearly, the Vampires had been waiting for some time.
"How... how did you get inside the Hall?" Keeper Carcette tried to keep herself calm. "The Shrine and the incense should repel you! HOW DID YOU GET INSIDE THE HALL?" She stamped her foot down reflexively. For all of her barking, the Keeper had never thought to find herself in this position, where the Wolves could invade her burrow. They were here now, and she and the other Vigilants were whimpering dogs with smaller teeth.
"Keeper!" Vigilant Tolan raced up the stairs and stood at her side, and Moric's side, Warhammer withdrawn. "What's going on! I heard you yell about a-" he paused when he saw the legion of demons before him. He slowly backed up to get closer to the Shrine of Stendarr.
The vampire leader laughed darkly. "Adalvald thought so too, when you were out speaking with that Imperial Courier. He insisted that this was hallowed ground. I see no evidence of that." The air grew cold and shadow began to creep inside the Hall like a deep fog.
They came in earlier when she and her small group were outside? Then what does that mean? Carcette quickly began to look among her ranks ahead, searching for more glowing eyes.
"Be careful, Stalf." One of the other Vampires spoke to him. "They have a Dragonborn in their ranks."
"Ah, yes. The one that killed Minorne, correct?" The squad leader, now revealed to be called Stalf, stated. "Vingalmo was screeching about her at dinner many moons back..." He began to focus on the area around them. "Hmm... no. She's not here. Good. Now's our chance to exact vengeance on these self-righteous barbarians."
The vampires all began to cackle.
Keeper Carcette stiffened up and clenched her Warhammer. She hadn't even gotten to send out her yearly review letter to Stendarr's Vigil in Cyrodiil yet. There was so much that needed to be done. If only Cura were here; their chances of survival would have increased.
She tensed as she wrapped her fingers around the shaft of her clunky warhammer. Was this really enough? How could a large, heavy, over-glorifies mallet possibly hope to damage a being that could move faster than the eye could track? Swinging it could prove fatal to herself, and to Tolan as well, who she glanced over to. She had never seen him this tense before. The Nord's eyes were focused on the predators before them, zeroing in on their Leader, and scanning his movements.
One step. If he would take one step.
A few other Vigilants in the group behind Carcette, the able-bodied ones, pulled down their hoods, showing that the presumed allies that they were, were in fact, turned spawns of Molag Bal themselves.
"B-by Stendarr-" Moric Sidrey trembled as he gripped his new Silver Sword tightly.
"Stendarr isn't here." Stalf laughed. "We're here to make sure of it."
Vigilants came running up the stairs; some were more obviously wounded, bandages wrapped around their arms and legs, and those who weren't were glaring hatefully at their natural enemies. They had their maces ready.
They were children of Stendarr, and they had a duty to do; cleanse the world of these demonic filth; these beasts that offended their Lord, and that only sought to cause harm and corruption in the world. They owed it to everybody in Skyrim to be rid of this filth. The Hall could be repaired, but they must live to do it.
And at whatever cost, they could not allow the vampires to make it out with whatever their twisted plans are intact.
"Keeper, we can't let them take Brother Adalvald!" one of the Vigilants exclaimed. "Wherever he is, we have to kill them before they reach him!"
Stalf immediately bellowed with laughter as the Keeper began to look around frantically, searching for Brother Adalvald among their small numbers.
"Where is he?" Carcette demanded.
"We've already got him." Stalf stated. "Now, it's time to rest in sweet Oblivion."
In a moment's notice, amidst hissing and devious laughter, the hordes descended upon the weakened Vigil.
[Author's note: I don't normally insert these, but this is special. Please, in another Tab, play "Dragon's Dogma OST Hopeless Battle" for this fight-the music works so well ^^ Thanks for reading, by the way.]
Cura, I'm sorry, for everything.
A lone tear ran down Keeper Carcette's cheek, and she rushed forward to meet her predators with her Warhammer raised in an arc above her head, bringing it down on Stalf directly. "HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Her shrill war cry sounded the start of the battle. When her hammer smashed into him, it caused him to stagger backwards, opening him up to another swing, which Carcette happily obliged.
It was a while since the Keeper last fought, and she was feeling a little bit rusty. Though, it could not have been at a worse time than now. But still, if she was going to die here, she would take as many of these bastards down with her as she could.
"VICTORY, OR SOVNGARDE!" Tolan plunged his hammer onto the stomach of a vampire, sending him flying into his cohorts brutishly. "HNNGAAAA!" Tolan cried as he rushed forward and shoulder-tackled another attacker.
When Stalf recovered his stance, he got the gorgeous sight of Carcette caving in the face of one of his lackeys. The vision of his fellow Volkihar Vampire plummeting to his knees, his face a red and black gelatinous blob, intrigued him. She was dangerous, their Keeper. Graceful, yet ferocious. He would have to deal with her swiftly.
Tolan rushed forward with his Warhammer stout and buried the sharp end of its head into the side of one of the Vampires, and Moric defended himself using his silver sword when a Vampire dashed around him at lightning speed to try and stab his back.
"Heh... just like the old days." Moric spat as he swung his blade to the side, causing the fiend to leap backwards. "Come meet your ends at the edge of my blade, fiends!" Moric shouted as he lunged forward and impaled a vampire through the chest.
"Heh, was this the bravado you showed before Minorne captured you?" One of the female vampires laughed as she dodged his strike through her supernatural reflexes, and the following up with a quick jab in his ribs, breaking a couple and making him stagger into the wall column beside the Keeper's room.
The vampiress shoved him through the column, causing him to fly into the wine shelf beside the room, and caused the celling above to collapse straight over Carcette's private quarters, decimating her bed, dresser, alchemy table, strongbox, and dressers. Light snow began to powder the hall's floor, having entered by the broken supports, and snowflakes began to flitter in as well.
The other Vigilants fought against the Vampires with their waning might amidst the cold air, as they were backed into a corner and at their worst point themselves if there ever was one. Of course, the Vampires had been counting on this.
Heads began to roll, and throats were cut at blinding speed. The Vigilants who had the sense to duck were grabbed by their foreheads and driven down into the ground and devoured by their former allies who joined the ranks of the Undead. It was a horror beyond horrors to the Vigil; a devastating blow; tearing them asunder from within.
The remaining members could not even trust one another, as many vampires also wore their uniforms, so there was much hesitation on their part.
A Nord Vigilant ran ahead and tried to smash the head of a Vigilant Vampire, only to be tossed to the ground and mauled apart by a couple of very dark and very cold Death Hounds that entered by the open room beside her. Her wails of agony rang through the Hall and brought horror to the leading trio, amidst the loud snarling Hounds that mangled her living bones.
"Please, Stendarr... please..." Carcette pleaded in terror as she tried to cast Stendarr's Aura to protect herself, but to no avail.
What happened?
The God of Mercy was not responding to her. Could he hear her prayers? Her pleas? She tried to clear her mind and to channel his divinity, but it was proving futile. No basic prayer, nor complex one could help her now, as she was too preoccupied dodging claws and fangs to even focus truly.
This was a nightmare. It had to be. Perhaps she would realize it and then snap awake in her bed to another boring day in the Pale. Maybe she could pray a little more, devote a little more of her time to Stendarr. Perhaps this macabre nightmare was simply a warning of what could happen.
In a moment's distraction, Stalf angrily lashed his right hand forward and clawed into her left eye with his sharp nails, gouging the tissue and destroying her theory.
"YEEEEK!" Keeper Carcette wailed in monstrous shock as her left eye was destroyed in its socket. Sharps claws sundered the fragile tissue and burrowed their way through like an arrowhead rending flesh. She pulled back quickly enough that he could not reach her brain, but she only thrashed about, wailing as blood poured out of the scarred socket.
Tolan and Moric's attentions were grabbed by Keeper Carcette's shriek.
"Keeper!" Tolan exclaimed as he uppercut a Vampire into the ceiling, causing the aging roof support to collapse into the Hearth, igniting part of the Hall.
"Carcette!" Moric exclaimed in terror as he saw the blood run down her face. Her lovely face, torn asunder.
Keeper Carcette wheezed and gasped, though she was paralyzed by the pain.
In his distraction, Moric was stabbed in his side, causing him to gasp audibly. A Death Hound grabbed him by the right leg and began to throttle him viciously, but he began to kick the creature repeatedly with his left leg, stamping its deformed face repeatedly in attempt to get it to release him while a female Vampire grabbed him from behind, readying to clamp down on his neck. He felt cold. Too cold. An icy sensation began to overtake his body from where the Death Hound buried its fangs, and it was only spreading from there. He had to act quickly.
Moric reached at his back and pulled his pickaxe off the back of his belt and, after headbutting the vampire, he drove the edge of it into the Death Hound's eye.
The ember from the Hearth began to spread to the Banners of Stendarr that hung from the lower rafters, riding up the fabric and onto the ceiling, causing more of it to collapse.
Carcette was crying tears of blood, and she grit her teeth to staunch the pain for now. "HGRAAAH!" She rushed ahead and buried her hammer in the skull of another Vampire and then proceeded to use it to toss them through a column on the west side of the Hall, causing that part of the roof to collapse down onto the Shrine and table. The display case of Stendarr's Hammer was smashed, as well, and the Aedric Artifact rolled across the floor.
Stalf smacked Carcette with the back of his hand, causing her to fly into the rubble, and lose her own Warhammer, which after being discarded flew through the air and smashed into another Vigilant, breaking his neck on impact.
She could hear nothing; the Keeper's ears were pounding and ringing. Her left eye was blind, so she instinctively felt around in the sharp rubble for Stendarr's Hammer, which was buried beneath, but sticking out ever-so-slightly. If she could use that, that Vampire would be done for.
Stalf refused to allow such to occur, and he lashed ahead, grabbing the Keeper by her collar.
Vigilant Tolan attempted to stop him, but was knocked to the ground by another Vampire from behind, and stripped of his armour, One of the Vampires laughed and took a dagger, and began to etch something into his left hand as he cried out on the floor. They carved a Daedric Letter, symbolizing the Gate of Oblivion, in his blood. Tolan struggled against it, but his strength began to fail him.
Stalf grabbed the worn and weakened Keeper Carcette out of the rubble and held her up in the air by her surcape. "You think you're so strong, the lot of you. You are so blind and arrogant that you actually believe you can take Daedra on. Let this be a lesson to you, to all of you: you're not even worth the rust your blood stains our blades with." He then proceeded to throw the limp Keeper through the western wall itself.
"NO!" Tolan screamed as he saw Carcette smash through the wood and mortar.
As the Keeper hit a snowbank outside, the world around her spun and began to blur. She flipped around before finally landing on her stomach next to the wood-chopping block outside. Blood leaked from her and stained the snow a deep crimson, dripping and splattering, smearing and collapsing as her flesh hung from her eyelids.
Stalf, the fiend, walked out through the wall crevice he had made and hopped down, looming like a shadow. He clapped his hands sarcastically beyond the orange glow of the fire as smoke rose into the sky. "Bravo, Keeper! Bravo! Your bravado has cost you everything. This is what comes of meddling with the Volkihar Clan."
Carcette could only wheeze as she held her broken ribs. She managed to drag herself up onto the chopping block with great struggle, using it as a rest spot as she saw other Vigilants die in front of her through the broken walls and door amidst the spinning world around her.
"You're still alive?" Stalf asked, surprised by this fact. "I hadn't expected a Breton to be so durable. You have a will of iron, I'll give you that." He stood over her, and the Keeper grabbed hold of the woodcutter's axe in the snow and hurled it at him, missing terribly and hitting the wall instead. Her depth perception was greatly hindered with the loss of her eye.
The vampire turned to look at where it landed, and it had fallen off the ledge. He then began to chuckle. "Crafty little bitch, aren't you?" It was amusing, as little as an axe would have done to this supernatural being to begin with. Though, he had to admire her stubbornness.
Keeper Carcette tried to cast a Healing Spell, but as before, she could not focus as her remaining field of vision was becoming blurred. She was out of moves. The Keeper looked up to the gray sky above as the snow began to fall lightly and deceptively. Her life was shown before her, all leading up to this moment; she had visions of her lovely Mother and her distinguished Father at their property in the rolling green hills of Bhoriane, her treacherous Aunt, the Temple of the Sacred Light of Stendarr, her first mission with the Vigil, first meeting with Moric, slaying the Hagraven her Aunt became, being left to tend to the Hall in the Pale, the first time she met the newborn Cura,the dream from Stendarr, the many years that passed where she raised Cura with the others, Cura's leaving, Moric's return, Stendarr's Hammer, Fenrik, and the rest was becoming a blur, until not thirty minutes ago when she was writing a letter.
She closed her eye and ultimately accepted her fate. "Kill me..."
"What?" Stalf didn't quite hear her, as her throat was strained.
"Kill me..." Carcette tried to repeat. She could not move; her entire body was weighed down by the shattered bones and loss of blood. Her voice was weak and raspy; she could not manage anything higher than that.
The Keeper's heart sank. Her last interaction with her beloved Cura was her snapping at her, as usual. Cura must resent her; she denies it, but she must. Or, she must feel as if the Keeper resented her, which could not be further from the truth.
All Carcette wanted right now was to have Cura beside her, to hold her hand before the end. She was all the family she had now.
Was Tolan still alive? Moric? Adalvald?
Not as far as she could tell.
They had all fallen prey to a threat they hadn't been prepared for. When they began their crusade against the Daedra, they were certain that their Skyforge Steel would protect them, but it did not. They knew Stendarr would protect them, but he did not, either.
"Stendarr has turned his face from me..." Keeper Carcette said with a gutwrenching sob as she saw imminent death approach.
Vigilant Tolan lay down on the floor, completely still.
"Oh, the brute is dead. Tsk." One of the Vampires remarked.
"And the others?" another asked.
They looked at Vigilant Moric, who was still up and at it, fighting back the Death Hound and the Vampire that attempted to bite him. He rushed down the stairs, in the hope of using the Staff of Ruunvald, and was perturbed in his place as he felt something sharp hit him in the chest, He looked down, only to see a dagger in the middle of his chest, protruding. It was no ordinary blade, however, but Mehrunes' Razor's blade piece that they kept in the Vault. He gasped as he saw that it was Silus Vesuius, their Mythic Dawn-descended prisoner who hurled it into him. "You..." Moric groaned.
"I hope they slaughter every last one of you bastards!" Silus shouted as he ran past and removed the blade from the falling Vigilant's chest and dashed past the Vampire who followed Moric.
Silus quickly ducked as a Vigilant went flying onto the ceiling above, knocking it down and burying the stairwell for good in a thick layer of rubble. The Vigilant landed straight onto the table, and destroyed the Shrine of Stendarr on impact, spilling blood onto the drinking horn's former basin.
It did not take Stalf long to realize that the foolish little man that he and his minions followed to the Dimhollow Crypt for months on end did not have anything more to offer them than vague guesswork on the true nature of what lay in the dungeon's heart. His notes on the subject were easy enough to interpret, but yet, the language was coded concerning the method to solving the puzzle that lay beneath the cold stone and mortar. The Vampires could not make heads or tails of the broken scribings, no doubt done this way intentionally They needed Adalvald alive to discern the truth of it. Perhaps now, that with his cohorts dead in the soot, flame, and snow, Adalvald would finally lose all reservations, and as a broken man, would finally cooperate with them.
After all, they had made good on their threat.
"You know, I must admit; you have done Clan Volkihar many a service," Stalf chuckled. "the feral broods your underlings have demolished would have proven a stain in our perfect world."
Keeper Carcette began to feel a silent fury when the loud sound of architectural collapse rung through the air, signaling the death knell of the Vigil. With great force, the Breton pulled herself back up to her feet and punched the Vampire in the face, hopelessly. He caught her fist by his superior reflexes and with a light push, sent her tumbling down the slope behind her.
She felt her ankle twist as she hit some jagged rocks on the roll down. It was painful, but everything was at this point. It was bleak as bleak could be. She caught a glimpse of Silus Vesuius running down the hill and out into the clearing, and then disappearing into the forest,
She wanted to kill him. Using a stone, Carcette pulled herself back up. She wanted that man dead. This had to be his doing, somehow. He must have cursed the Vigil with Daedric Magic! She tried to stand, but the pressure on her ankle caused it to wobble, and she fell to her knees.
Stalf came up behind her, as well as two other vampires.
"What are you going to do with her?" one of the lackeys asked.
"We could kill her now, be done with the wretch. The Mother Hen could make for a good meal, now that her chicks are all dead." the female Vampire said with a squeaky laugh.
"I'll eat her right eye." the first vampire called. "The right eye is always the sweetest."
"I will strip the fat from her belly." the second one said. "Doesn't look like there's much, but it is the tastiest." She licked her lips.
"Will the both of you shut your mouths?" Stalf turned to them both. "I have a much greater idea." He began to tie the Keeper up, to her horror. "She's going on a trip with us to Castle Volkihar."
"L-let go!" Carcette struggled. "TOLAN! MORIC!" She shouted through her torn diaphragm.
"They're dead, sweetie." the female Vampire said with a laugh. "All dead. Every last one."
A silent despair crept into Carcette's heart and she fought back tears. "No..."
This could not be real. It could not be!
Stendarr, please, where are you? Why have you abandoned us? Carcette wept within as the bonds were tightened around her wrists behind her back. No; she would not be their prisoner. She could not do that to the Vigil. With one final burst of energy, she attempted to hit the Vampire with the back of her head to stagger him and make a run for it, but he was unfazed.
"Let's go." Stalf yanked her up to her feet and, using his supernatural speed, bolted away from the destroyed building.
The remaining Vampires left the smoking Hall to ruin, and Vigilant Tolan scraped himself up off the floor. He stared at the symbol carved on his left hand with rage, which quickly turned to disgust as he looked around to see the Hall in smoldering ruins. There were dead Vigilants strewn about, architectural damage, and dead Vampires and Death Hounds lain across the rubble and soaked in pools of their own blood.
Tolan whimpered as he regained his footing, loosely put.
When he placed his left foot down, he realized that his shin was broken. The building's structure wasn't all that broke; a few of his bones had, as well. His ribcage was broken, as well, and he could only struggle with waning breaths and wheezes. He limped through a hole in the back wall to escape unseen, should the fiends remain outside.
Tolan did not get very far before he finally collapsed in the snow, unable to breathe any longer. His injuries were too great, and he succumbed. As he lay in the snow, thoughts of the others filled his mind; Keeper Carcette-always so serious, never relenting to anyone, but had a kind heart when it counted, always looking after her own. Brother Adalvald-a tough, wise, hearty Nord with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge who knew how to maintain a good balance in all walks of life. Cura-sweet, kind Cura. Always tries her hardest, always gets knocked down, but always picks herself up again. Vigilant Moric Sidrey-an aspiring, ambitious man with unrivaled love for adventure. Buried beneath the structure he fled years ago. Those Vigilants-men and women who devoted their all to protecting people from monstrosities; killed by the very monstrosities with no one to protect them.
It was a horrible shift of fate.
Tolan began to feel tired. He needed to sleep. It was so cold in the Pale, and yet his body was colder than the very snow itself. He could feel his warmth seeping out of him. This was the end.
Perhaps they should have left that Crypt alone in the end, after all.
Suddenly, a blurred figure began to emerge from the forest, in a blur amidst the fishbowl that was the world around him. Tolan didn't care. Loot me if you want, I've got nothing left anyways, you Milk-Drinker. He thought to himself.
The figure was running towards him, and towards the Hall.
When the figure came close enough, it was a Dark Elf in a pair of Hooded Priest robes.
It was Erandur.
"By Mara's grace..." Erandur remarked in horror as he saw the dying Tolan. "Hold on, sir. I can help you." He went down on one knee and opened his satchel, and removed a Healing Potion. "Here, drink this. I brewed it fresh." He helped Tolan sit up in the snow and held the bottle to his lips, allowing him to drink from it. "You look like you're from the same organization as a good friend of mine."
Tolan began to feel reinvigorated, and his wounds were slowly closing, though not to perfection. "Thank you..."
"Erandur." the Dark Elf informed him. "I'm a Priest of Mara."
"Then you... Nightcaller... with... Cura..." Tolan began to recall some of the details from quite some time ago, when Cura cleansed the land of Vaermina's Nightmares.
"So you are a Vigilant of Stendarr!" Erandur exclaimed. "Lady Mara told me that something ghastly was happening to the South, and I saw the smoke... I feared it was so." He pointed towards the burning Hall and towards the blood on the snow in patches, painting the landscape white and red like a blood-splattered tissue paper.
"They're gone..." Tolan slowly began to process it, though he struggled to stand up straight. "All of them... Carcette... Moric..." He paused and looked around, horrified. "...me..."
"You're alive, friend." Erandur reassured the distraught Nord with a soothing hand on his shoulder, extending Mara's kindness.
"No, I'm not." Tolan disagreed. "I feel... dead." He looked at the disturbing carving on his left hand. "I... died in there." He clenched his fist angrily and threw a vicious punch into a tree, piercing the trunk with his bare flesh. "GGRRRRRAAAAH!"
Erandur was taken aback, startled by the sudden outburst. "Friend, please, keep your calm, as best as possible."
"Where did they go?" Tolan began to uselessly search for any trace of the vampires. "I am going to destroy them..." Taking a couple of steps forward, the infuriated Nord's knees buckled, and Erandur caught the large man before he could collapse again.
"No; you've got to rest." Erandur assured him.
Tolan felt lightheaded, and began to shake his head defiantly. "No, I... I..." Then his heart began to race painfully within his ribcage. His body reached its limit. Anything more would be foolhardy. "I... suppose you're right."
Erandur spoke. "I'll bring you to the Windpeak Inn."
"No... I can't be seen in Town... not yet. Not after this..." Tolan protested. He felt like a failure. He was the Vigil's tactician, and he couldn't even organize proper defenses for this. The truth was, he thought the same thing as Carcette: the Hall of the Vigilant was a Sanctuary that no evil could enter. What went wrong? Was the Keeper slacking on her duties? Their jobs were to Maintain the Sanctuaries and dole out tasks to the underlings. Was the Keeper perhaps struggling in her faith? Had she angered the God of Mercy? It was the only logical explanation he could think of.
"Nightcaller Temple is sanctified." Erandur explained. "You can stay with me for a while-then once you're well, I'll allow you to leave."
Tolan ordinarily would never set foot in such a place, unless it was to destroy it, but he had very few options available, and he knew Cura helped sanctify it some time back. He agreed, and the pair of them walked through the snow, Tolan holding onto Erandur for support.
A couple of hours passed, and all Keeper Carcette could sense around her was the great, pungent odour of iron and rot. It was vile, horrifying.
"Open your eyes, cur." Keeper Carcette heard a deep, and very dark voice call out to her. Fearfully, and with nothing left within her to push back, she did as she was bid. What she saw around her was horrifying. There was a Hall of ancient stone and mortar, with gothic architecture adorning the interior. There were more of those wicked Black Dogs circling her, and there were Human body parts on feast tables, with cups filled with blood, and vampiric figures feasting on the flesh of innocent victims. There were mesmerized Tavern Wenches serving them through the dining hall, as it were.
Vampires.
The building was full of vampires.
Keeper Carcette gasped in terror. She was utterly surrounded. Was she to be the main course?
She never thought she would do it, but she feebly called for her protégé in her delirium. "Cura..." As if she were expecting her to appear out of thin air and smite the lot of these beasts.
A vampire woman stepped up. "What do you want with me, meat? Do you want me to drink you dry?" She demanded furiously as she approached.
"Calm yourself, Fura." Stalf laughed, leaning against the eastern wall next to a large Nord vampire in red armour.
Fura?
Ah. She misheard.
"Fura Bloodmouth has quite the short temper." Stalf stated. "It'd do you good to keep your distance from her."
Keeper Carcette looked around. Was he talking to her? Then, they had no intention of killing her? Ah, a hostage. Of course. But a hostage wouldn't have much room to avoid someone, now would they?
"Step aside." The dark voice spoke to the Vampiress, to which Fura obeyed immediately and walked back to the east wall, beside the small vestibular library.
The Keeper saw the fiend in plain view now; a Nord Vampire Lord with eyes that burned with the fires of Oblivion itself, wearing purple and black armour, with hair as black as the midnight sky. He was quick to address her. "The Keeper of the Vigil, I presume?" He asked.
"You're... the Leader of the Volkihar clan?" Keeper Carcette quickly tied the ropes altogether, even in her dehydrated, wounded, and pathetic state.
"Lord Harkon, yes." The Vampire Lord addressed himself. "Keeper Carcette; for long have you been an aid to our court. I really must thank you."
A confusion swept the Breton, which quickly turned to anger. "I would never help you!" Carcette protested loudly and immediately.
"So you say, but you have regardless." Harkon mocked her. "The many minor broods of lowly Vampire scum your Vigilants have destroyed made it far easier for us to obtain our Thralls. You've removed most of our livestock thieves and saved us the trouble of hunting them down ourselves. We really must thank you."
The Keeper's eye turned to morose disgust. She was cleansing Skyrim of Daedric Filth, not helping them!
"Your Vigil has served its purpose." Harkon grabbed her by the collar and lifted her up onto her feet. "You have served your purpose there."
"If you're going to kill me, do it." Keeper Carcette dared him, outstretching her arms. "I have nothing left!" If they did, Cura would surely hunt them down. She would look down from Aetherius and laugh at this coven of demons as she tore the Dining hall apart with her Voice.
"Oh, no. My intention is not to kill you..." Harkon laughed. "That would be an easy way out for you. After all, you were directly responsible for the death of one of my Subordinates, Minorne."
An Altmer Vampire on the west side of the Hall hissed and stepped forward, only for a Dunmer Vampire and Bosmer Vampire to pull him back lightly, preventing violence. The Keeper noticed this reaction and flinched lightly.
"C-Cura..." She whimpered. Where was she? Why was she not here? She's Dragonborn! She could annihilate them all.
"Who is this 'Cura'?" Harkon asked her. "Perhaps the agent you sent to Ruunvald?" He wagged his finger towards another member of the court; an Orc Vampire, who stepped forward.
"Tell me about it again, Malkus. What occurred at Ruunvald?" Harkon turned to the Orc for answers.
"A blonde Breton girl with a mace and shield entered with two Nord Vigilants and an armoured female Nord lackey of her own." Malkus explained. "She had the power of the Voice, and she freed Minorne's Vigilant prisoners and slayed her. I bore witness from the shadows."
"Your minion has slain Minorne, but that is well. She abandoned and dishonoured the Court long ago. Only Vingalmo holds fleeting feelings for her." Harkon stated. "However, this means that there is space for a new member in my Court, in fact." He stared the Keeper down, his eyes boring into her soul.
"No!" Carcette protested, trying to step back and nearly tripping over a Death Hound. "I would never join you! Never!"
Stalf turned to his superior. "Orthjolf, Lokil and the others are holding Adalvald. It shouldn't take them long to shatter his will."
The large Nord nodded. "Good, good. Now shut your mouth before I rip out your tongue." He took a sip from his goblet, more interested in the spectacle before him.
Seeing Carcette struggle against their Lord was quite entertaining. These Vigilants always had so much bravado; when they would face a real Vampire, not just the feral kind, it was always a pleasure to watch their faces contort in terror.
"Turn her! Turn her! Turn her!" Keeper Carcette could hear a couple of vampires bellowing throughout the court. Harkon smiled fiendishly and nodded. The prospect intrigued him.
Oh, no. Anything but that! Anything! The Keeper began to panic and attempt to gain distance. She was meant for Aetherius, not Coldharbour! The Keeper quickly searched her armour for anything sharp she could use to cut her own throat before the Vampire could go to work, but there was nothing to be found.
Harkon laughed. "Imagine the look on the faces of those other ants, once they've seen what's become of their queen." He grabbed Carcette by the jaw and pulled her forward like a ragdoll. Her fists hit him feebly, like the paws of a rabbit. A rabbit could never hope to harm a Dragon. "You should be thanking me, mortal. I am imparting upon you the greatest gift I can give. From this day forward, you shall have Eternal Life."
"No! I don't want it!" The Keeper used her arms to try and push him back, but to no avail. "Please, don't!" She cried out in protest as she violently spasmed in his grasp.
Harkon lifted her face, exposing her neck. He pulled down the collar of her surcape and tore off her Amulet of Stendarr and discarded it across the room. She watched in horror as the necklace dismembered upon impact. A tear rolled down her cheek as she tried to shove and kick the Vampire Lord worthlessly. Then she felt it; a pair of sharp, needle-like fangs penetrated her neck and began to siphon her jugular. Every muscle in her body clenched as she felt her internal fluids escaping her and something else filling her. Corruption.
Around her, the ghouls began to laugh and mock the Vigil, declaring them failures.
In the end, she was.
Isran was right all along. She was too stubborn and blind to see it all those years ago, but he was absolutely right. They would all lose their lives, and it would be her fault. Sorrow filled her chest, and her body fell to the floor, limp, and cold. The last thing Carcette could feel before blacking out was the warmth of the bloody stone floor her face landed on.
It was done. There was nothing left for the Breton to cling to. Her life was forfeit, and she was slowly becoming an abomination; transforming and mangling horrifically into the very thing she swore to destroy; a Daedric Fiend. Her body was enshrouded in a dark blue shadow.
"Everyone... forgive me..." the Keeper muttered her final words before shutting her eye and slipping into the embrace of death, awaiting to emerge from her grotesque rebirth. The last image she had in her right eye was the Drinking Horn of Stendarr, torn apart from the necklace, laying on the floor, discarded.
Like herself.