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The soft, cautious footfalls of a handful of militia reached my ears as they moved through the carnage, armour creaking and weapons rattling in nervous hands as the werewolf breathed the last of its hot rank breath over my face. They had seen me tackled and mauled by the brute, and expecting me to be greeting my ancestors in the afterlife I almost laughed as I raised a hand and coughed and spat the blood out of my nose and mouth.
"A little help please?" I called out, hearing their cries of surprise and shock at my waving hand appearing from under the mound of dead flesh.
When dawn finally broke it came as a relief to those of us huddling inside the town hall. Our fears of further attacks had not been justified as the creatures didn’t return, but it was still a sleepless night for the majority of us. Viconia and myself somehow managed to find somewhere quiet to collapse, gaining something resembling rest despite the nightmares that plagued me every time I closed my eyes. Physically exhausted and sore from my mauling my mind had allowed me to slip into unconsciousness, and oher than some creaking bones and severe bruising under my armour I had come from my encounter with the creature surprisingly well. I may have been physically fine and healthy for the most part, but as I rose in the morning I knew that my dreams for the coming weeks were not going to pleasant. The encounter with the werewolf may have buried a few of the ghosts haunting me for the years past, but almost falling victim to its fangs and claws had provided many more to take their place.
It would not just be the "blessed’ of Hircine that would follow me in the months to come. The vampiric taint of my soul was filling my dreams with increasingly violent thoughts and desires for wanton excesses with every day that passed. It was strange how that half-remembered dreams of death and violence in Vvardenfell snow almost seemed to be a relief or a blessing in comparison. No matter how plagued I was from Vermina’s attentions, Viconia seemed to have no such issues. Exhausted from the use of her powers that had left two werewolves dead at the front doors, she had simply fallen asleep even before her head had touched her bundled up cloak. Even as I curled up beside her and felt her unconsciously press into me I could feel how she was rivalling the dead in her slumber. Years spent in a society infinitely darker and blood-soaked than any on the surface allowed to her rest peacefully while the rest of us tossed, turned, and stared into the darkness of the night remembering the horrors we had witnessed.
While normally broken by the cawing of cockerels, the dim light filtering through the trees was met by relief and numerous prayers and offerings to deities. Devoid of wildlife and animals there was little noise in the village as those of us who were awake began the process of dismantling the barricade and staggering into the frosty village. Ylfgar organised the survivors into shifts, ordering some to return inside to rest as best as they could while the rest of us began the slow process of removing the dead and repairing the damage. As Viconia and I had spent most of the morning asleep we busied ourselves hauling the enormous carcasses of the slain beasts with the assistance of a handful of militia. Each werewolf easily weighed over a quarter of a tonne and took anywhere between four and six of us to drag them out, pulling, grunting and swearing the entire time. The dead creatures were left devoid of their heads though, as none of us were willing on taking any chances. The werewolf that I had killed, and the one with the billhook lodged in bone and brain soon found themselves the centres of attention from Ylfgar’s axe.
Thrown into a pile, a pair of the militia manhandled over a barrel of lamp oil, dousing the corpses and even upending the dregs. There would be no healing or even the remotest chance that the creatures could be reanimated or brought back to life once the militia were through with them. As for the bodies of those who died at their claws, they too were brought into the sun. Covered by little more than sheets and furs the remains of the dead made a pitiful row; especially how despite the number of deaths there were several killed in such ways that there was little to identify them, let alone bury.
Ylfgar moved over to us, the woodsman looking as tired as the rest of us felt and looking about with a bloodshot eye. I had made the offer to have a look at the wounds he had suffered the days previous but he had shrugged me off, choosing instead to smear a thick layer of honey under the bandages that slowly dribbled down and matted his beard.
"Well... We’re alive." He said simply, moving over and looking between Viconia and I. Leaning up against the empty oil barrel I watched as the militia went looking for another one, moving with all the speed and grace of those suffering emotional and physical fatigue.
Viconia squatted down over the severed head of one of the brutes, idly poking at its flesh and eyes with a finger and the tip of her knife. In the daylight they didn’t seem as fearsome as they had several hours before, but there was no denying the overwhelming power they contained. Even severed, tongue lolling loosely in a broken jaw and brains leaking from its crushed skull there seemed hints of the rage that consumed it while it still breathed.
"Most of us are at least." I answered, grimacing as Viconia began probing the deep cut where the billhook had shattered the beast’s cranium until her finger was lost to the knuckle in its brains. "How many do we have left?"
Ylfgar breathed heavily, looking over to the shrouded bodies and fumbling with the flask on his belt. "Sixteen. Sabian died of his wounds a little while ago."
The young Imperial farmhand had been found trembling and bleeding out on the second floor. The werewolf that I killed had ripped an arm and a majority of a shoulder away in its frenzy, killing several others in a orgy of killing and it was only through pure luck he had survived as long as he had. While it was distracted eating the others he had managed to crawl inside one of the several rooms on the second floor, hiding and whimpering until he was found shortly after I dispatched his would-be killer. The injury he had sustained was horrendous, and what little restoration magicka I knew hadn’t been enough to do anything more than make him comfortable while shock took him to Aetherius.
"Seven dead." My reply was sombre but I was able to smile grimly at least. "It could have been far worse, and we managed to kill three of the vith’rellen."
"And wound at least two." Viconia added, dragging her finger from the remains of the beast’s skull while holding up one of the severed arms. Despite the grin her expression was sinister as she waved it at us, wriggling the paw in one hand while holding it up with the other.
"How many do you think are left?" The concern in Ylfgar’s voice was obvious. There was no telling whether they could fortify the hall enough to hold off another attack in the coming night.
"Best case scenario; two. And both will be wounded at least."
"And worst case?"
I shrugged. "Maybe half a dozen."
"That’s not including the mage or whatever was creating those illusions." Viconia stood from her grisly studies after wiping a gloved finger on a patch of fur. "We might have hurt them last night but I doubt they’ll hold anything back a second time."
"You’ll be happy to know at least that you were right." Throwing his head back, Ylfgar took a swig from his flask before smacking his lips. "I sent Surergus to follow the blood. He told me it leads right up to the castle and through the gatehouse."
"The portcullis is still closed though isn’t it?"
There was a nod. For a moment the woodsman chewed on his lip before offering me the flask. "We could make ladders but none of us here are going to be any help in taking the castle. After last night I don’t think that anyone here has anything left in them."
Pressing the head of the flask to my lips I took a draught and immediately felt as though I had been punched in the mouth. The blood and dust that had lined my throat was washed away as effectively as swallowing a mouthful of molten lead and Ylfgar watched amusingly as I hacked and spluttered.
"By the blood of Talos, what is that stuff?"
He grasped the flask from my outstretched arm as I felt my eyes water. "S’jirra’s homebrew." He said simply, passing the flask to Viconia who took an experimental swig and turned a shade of grey. "S’jirra grows the best and largest potatoes you’ll ever see. They also make a drink with a bit of a pleasant kick."
"A kick is one way of putting it." Viconia rasped. "What else do you use it for? Stripping paint and fuelling forges?"
Ylfgar snorted. "There is that. It’s also good at killing cowardice."
His remaining eye narrowed on me as I managed to get my mild coughing fit under control. "Not that I think that cowardice is an issue with either of you. We’re all thankful you arrived when you did. If not, I don’t think any of us would be here today."
"Unless we can do something about the castle then I think that it won’t matter come evening. They won’t let last night go unanswered."
Digging into one of my pouches I pulled out a tiny gem, tossing it underarm to Ylfgar.
"What is this?" rolling it in the palm of his hand he looked at the blue-green gem as it swirled with its own luminescence.
"Neither of us are sure." Viconia sat down heavily on the decapitated head of the werewolf I had killed and leaned back. "It’s almost like a soul gem but it’s not. The enchantments within that crystal matches the power held within varla stones but it’s of no magic that I have encountered before."
"I pulled that from the chest of the werewolf that I killed." Pulling out a second one from the pouch I could feel the resonating energies contained within the tiny trinket as I showed it to him. "This one is from the one that got brained."
"So what are they?" using his thumb he flipped it back at me like a coin.
"Foci for spells." Viconia nodded and pushed a cheek out with her tongue. "Something has gone to a great amount of effort to create those things, and implant them into these beasts. I don’t understand how, but they have something to do with controlling them."
"Just before that thing tackled me last night it stopped as though it was listening to something. I think that if it had really wanted to kill me it would have done so, but I just happened be between it and it getting back to its master." I idly picked at a congealed patch of blood on my forearm. Even after upending a dozen buckets of water over myself I had failed to wash away all of the werewolf’s blood, or remove the smell of wet dog from my flesh. "The illusions, the gems, the way that several people who have died in the area died by vampires leads me to believe that one of the bloodsuckers are responsible. Either they are highly adept in magicka or have a pet wizard."
Sighing loudly, I glanced between the two of them and the way the nearby militia were rolling over a fresh barrel. "Not that it matters whichever way. Even if we could face off against werewolves alone there is no way that we can stand against a mage as powerful as the one last night while these things bash in the door."
"What will you two do?"
Looking over to Viconia I watched her nod almost imperceptibly. "We’re going to go up to the castle and find a way in."
"Just the two of you..."
"Yep." Seeing the expression on his face I laughed lightly. "Don’t worry about us. We can handle ourselves. Especially if there is a vampire or two in there. I killed twenty of the damned things by myself and that was before I had Maegalla’s blade." I tapped the emerald hilt of the Light of Dawn where it sat behind my head.
Shrugging I motioned in the general direction of the castle. "Besides... Lycanthropy is a nocturnal curse which means that if we get in there before sundown we’ll be faced by men, not monsters. Also, if there are any vampires, then with luck they will be asleep. At a minimum we can get in, cause some damage and try to stack the odds more in our favour."
"But what if you fail?" Another fiery mouthful of raw spirits flowed down his throat but he barely showed it. "What if you don’t come back or you can’t get in?"
"We’ll climb the walls if we have to." I took the offered flask again and this time the burning liquor didn’t sting quiet as badly. "But no matter the outcome it will be better and improve our chances more than if we simply board up the doors and wait for night."
"I don’t think I like it, but I can’t think of any alternatives." The flask stopped, being held by his chest as his fingers tapped against its pewter casing. "I have no doubts about your effectiveness in battle. After last night I don’t think anyone will doubt any of the stories about you two but I still can’t help but think that this is suicidal."
Viconia’s expression was not lost to me but she shrugged as I looked at her. We had spoken about it before the dawn had come and neither of us had come up with any other ideas. Even if we took both of our horses and rode as fast as we could we doubted that whatever was responsible for all the death and carnage would let us leave the county. Winter held too much sway on the lands, and with it came the fact that there wasn’t enough hours in the day to be able to reach any of the nearest Legion forts. If we tried for one of the nearby settlements we would most likely find ourselves at the site of a massacre or simply cause one by our presences.
"We’re going to check out the Botany first." I said simply, turning my head and looking at the towering walls rising above the thatched roofs of the village. "I’m hoping that your ma was right."
"So am I now." Ylfgar replied bitterly. "I’ll send a couple of us along with you to help you look. That legionary fella will probably be one of them. After last night I think you both have an admirer."
"Great." The snorted laugh from Viconia made me smile. "Just what we need..."
Four of us made our lonely way up the road towards the castle. Built on the mound of stone and soil, the walls could be seen at the forests edge for kilometres around. There was not a centimetre of land within the castle’s domain that it could not be seen from its towers and ramparts and it felt as though invisible eyes followed us every step of the way.
Legionary Hadrgar and Mathis; one of the surviving militia followed Viconia and I as we walked the sloped cobblestones. The highway running to the north ran within metres of the towering gatehouse, the steel portcullis secured and jammed closed and appearing as though it had never opened in decades. There were congealed splatters of blood every few dozen metres from the townhall that led through the yawning entrance, fading from sight behind the closed gates.
"A stone nest." Viconia muttered as she ran her fingers over the welded and riveted bars of the outer portcullis. "Fridj tet."
"One well known for never being successfully sieged." Hadrgar added, looking up at the sight of the walls. "Even in the War of the Three Banners; Glenvar was never taken."
"Good thing that the walls aren’t defended during the day..." I replied, twisting at the waist and shielding my eyes from the sun to stare at the ramparts high above our heads. I knew that I could scale the walls, even without a rope or ladder but doing so would be expected by those dwelling within. There would be guards of some description through the main entrances and our success would hinge on stealth and surprise.
As a small huddle we moved around the south eastern tower, moving in single file around the tiny lip of land that jutted out from its base. Only wide enough for a horse it quickly dropped away, every meter along increasing the drop until the space to our left almost matched the height of the walls to our right. The tiny path was well worn despite the moss and grass that grew between the paving stones leading to the front gate and it wasn’t long until we found ourselves surrounded by neat rows of gardens and flower beds.
"Definitely not for growing supplies." I remarked, running my fingers through the stems of various flowers that wouldn’t bloom until the spring thaw. The frost that morning had left everything gleaming with wetness and our breaths misting the air in the shadow of the castle, but I couldn’t help but think of what beauty there would be on that stretch of land come spring.
The botany was a tiny stone brick building in the same design as the dozens of others stretching out before us to the south and the entire village could be seen from where we made our way through the tiny paths between the flowerbeds. It was deserted and other than the greasy trail of smoke rising from the village square there wasn’t a soul or any sign of movement to be seen. Built into the side of the castle the botany could have been considered a weak point in the art of siege warfare if not for the tiny strip of land snaking around the walls. No siege tower could be built here, and those carrying ladders would have found it exceedingly difficult to drag them around path at the base of the curved tower. I could see easily how the Castle had remained unconquered for several hundred years, as even a handful of defenders could hold off an army for as long as they wished.
It was not a pleasant prospect for us as we moved over to the botany itself, looking over the glass windows scattered around its walls and the tiled roof that looked undamaged and untouched to the death and destruction in the village below. A tiny chimney rose above the roof but other than the way the building had been set and built onto the base of the walls there was nothing out of the ordinary of the building.
A quick nod to Viconia and she stood to the side of the door, back pressed to the botany’s wall and slowly pushing the door open. Thankfully no squeak or groan of hinges could be heard as she opened the building’s sole entrance, allowing me to move past her without hindrance and enter without the threat of ambush.
The stench of rot reached my nostrils as soon as I entered. The Botany was a tiny one-bedroom cottage split into three rooms. I found myself in the entry, which also doubled as the kitchen, dining room and the living area, while the southern end was a bedroom barely large enough to warrant the name. Through a door to my right the northern portion took up over three quarters of the entire building, filling the space with rows of tables holding pots and ceramic basins filled with earth and fertilizer. There were no windows in this portion of the building, no skylights and other than the handful of long burnt out lanterns there was no light at all when the doors were closed. All of the basins and pots were filled and growing an impressive assortment of mushrooms and other fungi, ranging from the common Fly Amanita and Wisp Stalks to the rare Bloatspore from Vvardenfell.
My knowledge, while considerable was limited enough that I couldn’t identify most of the collection within the botany, but I didn’t need my horticultural skills to identify the source of the decay.
"Oh gods." Mathis exclaimed as he stepped through into the building. "That’s old Vanidor."
From the look of the corpse thrown through one of tables the old caretaker had been dead for a fortnight, possibly even longer. The humidity and the slightly higher temperature within the building had done the rest, allowing the body to bloat and putrefy even as some of the fungi took advantage of a new food source. The bulbous yellowed heads of cairn bolete were growing from his face and ruined tunic that was straining against the bloated flesh within, but despite the decay I could still see the horrible wounds in his throat.
"There’s definitely a vampire roaming about." Viconia said as she laid eyes on the corpse and the fang marks deep in the jugular vein. Horribly the corpse’s eyes were still open and staring, the look of fear still obvious on the blackened, bloated features slowly being consumed by mushrooms.
"All the more reason to find the bastard and scatter its ashes to the winds." I replied bitterly, moving about through the building between the rows of tables.
"So what are we looking for exactly?" Hadrgar asked from the doorway, shifting his bulk sideways in order to fit through the door in his Legion plate.
"Anything that looks suspicious." I replied, moving about in the room and studying the wall closest to the castle. "Like this for example."
"I don’t get it." Mathis moved over and looked at the ancient stone blocks making up the north wall.
"The castle was built a thousand or more years ago, and this botany was built in the last hundred." Running my hands over the far wall I felt the course stones on my fingertips and through the leather of my fingerless gloves. "So I find it interesting they built the botany so close to the castle that they built this directly onto the wall itself."
The three of them looked at the wall, and all of them realised that what I said was true. Rather than building the botany like a regular building they extended the eastern and western walls off the castle itself. Typically, such a construction would weaken the walls or at the least allow an attacker to get close and have a shield of sorts from the defenders which made it interesting why a castle known for being impregnable would have such a thing. Only Ylfgar’s bedtime stories as a child alluded to a secret entrance and otherwise any attacking force would not have considered the castle having a sally point in such an obvious location.
"If there’s a sally point, then it will be extremely well hidden." My hands continued their caressing of the ancient stones, feeling the gaps and mortar and their surfaces for anything that felt different. Mathis and Hadrgar soon joined me, while Viconia stood back with an amused expression on her face.
Watching the three of us groping blindly and randomly along the wall I could almost hear the way she rolled her eyes and moved over to us. "You three idiots wouldn’t be able to find your ick’neosen even if you sat on both hands."
"You have a better idea then?" I replied, looking back over to my shoulder as she strode gracefully over to us.
"Matter of fact I do." Her eyes flashed with witchlight as she moved over to the wall and held out a hand that shimmered slightly in the gloom. "Each of those stones would weigh nearly half a tonne, which means that if there is an entrance here it would have some form of enchantments. Either illusionary, or mechanical in nature."
The three of us stepped away from her as she moved along the wall, whispering archaic phrases and words as she studied the wall with eyes burning brightly with magicka. Hadrgar and I moved several of the tables away to clear the space along the wall as she moved, studying each of the metre-tall stones at a time and teasing out the tiniest hints of enchantments.
"Well, the good news is that there is an entrance here."
Mathis, Hadrgar and myself all started at her proclamation as she stopped two thirds of the way along the wall.
"What’s the bad news?" the young legionary asked, receiving part of a grin as a response.
"The bad news is that it is more of an exit."
She saw our looks of confusion as she lowered her arm and allowed the magicka she was utilising to scry the wall to fade into nothingness. "Surfacers can be so stupid." Rolling her eyes, she gestured to the wall and used a tone of voice that one would use when explaining something to an individual with brain damage. "It is designed to only be opened from the inside."
"That doesn’t help us." I added.
"Gi dos d’lotha eluith’orth..." her grin was savage in the semi darkness of the botany’s interior. "There’s always a way."
I felt the prickle of my hairs raise as her eyes began burning even more intensely, turning to face the wall once more with a hand wreathed in lightning. The stabbing pain in the back of the mind made itself felt and I could help but wince for multiple reasons as she drew back her glowing fist, and punched it to the elbow in the wall.
A click echoed from the wall as she fumbled around in the magically weakened stone, wriggling and moving about before withdrawing her arm and rubbing at knuckles that were now obviously broken and bleeding. Her magicka had allowed her to punch over a metre into solid granite with little injury, but as we watched portions of the wall slid back into itself before rolling backward into an opening.
"You didn’t need to be so dramatic." I said to her simply, moving over and cradling her hand in mine. At least two of the knuckles were broken despite her magic and I carefully moved them together while massaging restoration magicka between my palms.
"But it worked." The look of triumph was impossible to ignore on her face, especially how we stood together with less than half an arms span between us.
"So what now?" Hadrgar asked, looking between us and the darkened tunnel while fumbling to light a lantern that had lost most of its oil days ago.
"Now?" Running my fingers over Viconia’s hand I affectionately I checked to ensure that there wouldn’t be any lasting damage. "Now you and Mathis go back to the village, and Viconia and I see what we can do."
The look that creased the Legionary’s face spoke more than words ever could. Even as he opened his mouth to speak I cut him off with a raised hand. "I appreciate the thought, but this is something that Viconia and I are experienced and equipped for. You proved yourself last night, but this is not something you can help with."
"I want to fight." He said simply, gripping his sheathed gladius firmly and looking angry and insulted.
"You will have more than your fill of fighting in the coming months. This is something Viconia and I can handle on our own."
"What? Delving headfirst into a den of evil without the slightest inclination of what awaits us?" Viconia shook her hands, clenching and unclenching the fist that had punched solid stone. "That’s not something that anyone should have experience doing more than once..."
The expression I shot her direction left her looking smug and teasing, but she nodded to Hadrgar. "Kaius is right though; we’ve done this sort of thing several times now and you’ll only get in the way."
"You can help keep the village safe if we don’t return." The expression that crossed both Mathis and his features made me realise that such a scenario hadn’t crossed their minds. Mathis looked pleased to be going back to the village rather than infiltrating the castle, but Hadrgar only wanted to follow in our footsteps. "We’re not going in there to clear it, but to find out what is going on and what exactly we are facing. This is something that stealth is going to win out against force of arms."
"I can’t do stealthy." His tone was sombre and slightly humorous and the rest of us laughed.
"That’s why you’re a Legionary, and I was a forester." Gesturing to his armour I saw him nod in acceptance and square his shoulders for returning to the village. He didn’t like the idea but he was going to follow through with it at least.
He stepped forward and tapped his fist against his chest, holding out the flickering lantern for me. "Dovah Invicta Sir."
I returned the salute, seeing the way that Viconia’s eyes rolled in her head as she turned to the opened sally point. With lantern in hand I saw them watching us as we entered the tunnel, but they both turned away when Viconia triggered the enchanted mechanism of the door.
In the semidarkness of the tunnel we found ourselves standing on a stone floor so heavily covered with dust that it almost reached our ankles. There were no tracks other than the tiny shuffles of rodents in the powder, and as the door ground closed I could feel Viconia’s eyes on me.
"You’re not just coming in her to "look around’ are you?" She whispered.

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