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The cloying smell of her flesh and her fear was tantalising close and even blinded I would have been able to find my way through the darkness. No torches or lanterns had been lit in this portion of the castle, no mortal serfs having been allowed in their mistress’s inner sanctum. It was clean and perfectly ordered but the carpet was soon playing host to a series of bloodied footprints and a trail of ash that fell from me.
"Where are you!"
A thrumming sound reached my ears and I ducked, feeling the wind off the blade that sliced across where my neck had been a second before. Inhumanly muscled, the first of her bodyguard appeared out of the darkness despite the toga and golden pieces of armour he wore. Shifting out of the shadows with all the ability of the vampiric and cursed he hacked and sliced with his greatsword, sliding about with a liquid grace that I staggered away from.
The second appeared from behind, using the same ability to flank me and take advantage of the distraction of his comrade. Their golden masks revealed nothing of the vampires’ features, showing only hatred and love respectively. Like the masks worn by the troupe of travelling bards and performers I had seen years ago, they were polar opposites and both seemed to attack with opposing techniques.
The hate-masked vampire attacked with wild swings of immeasurable power and speed, his blade narrowly missing me and smashing through several pedestals holding carved busts of long dead counts. Shattered stone and chunks of marble pattered across the floor and my armour as I shifted into mist, feeling the cold pressure of the love-masked vampire’s sword as he stabbed it precisely into where my spine had been.
They both smelled of oil and incense, their skin taut across their muscles that threatened to burst through the thin layer struggling to contain them. Every vein and artery pulsated to the surface, coiling like snakes and writhing under the skin and I could almost feel their bodies humming under the stain of wielding their enormous swords.
Each sword was over a metre in length, and only just less than ten kilograms of beaten metal. In comparison my salvaged longsword was half the length and within seconds of trading blows I found myself missing Sunchild. Their blows cleaved the air despite the confines of the passageway, and they held the advantage of greater reach. They used every trick and skill at their disposal, using their vampiric speed and agility and shifting in and out of the shadows to ensure that I always had my back to one of them. I instead was relying on my own daedric enhanced strength, and my ability to transform into mist to force them to take care in their blows lest they fall victim to each other.
I parried and blocked, slashing out at the bare chested bodyguards and cursing at their ability. They were considerable swordsmen and while they lacked the skill of men like Belisarius and Alexi they more than made up for it with their speed and strength. Within a handful of blows my longsword was nicked and dented in several places, the last few centimetres chopped away and leaving the metal gleaming at the end. Their movements flowed into each other, twirling and spinning and using their momentum to slash and slice with ever increasing speed while I danced between them, bursting in and out of my mist form to keep them at bay. Several times I felt my arm jar as they used the gleaming metal gauntlets and vambraces to block my attacks, but I did manage to draw blood on more than one occasion.
A large portion of the hall way was left in ruins, blood and gore stamped into the carpet and most of the furnishings laying in a combination of stone shards and wooden splinters. One of my kicks had smashed in an oaken door like it had been hit by a trebuchet, and there was more than one that had a long jagged slice hacked into it from a vampiric greatsword.
Concern was creeping into my mind as we fought, as I realised that other than a handful of grunts neither of the vampire ancients had made a sound. They fought and hacked and swung their enormous weapons untiringly, but there were no shouts, no roars of anger or hatred and no even the slightest gasp or cry of pain when I managed to cut their flesh. I was roaring and shouting, cursing and spitting my hatred at them but the two of them were utterly silent.
I caught a descending greatsword on the edge of my battered longsword, twisting the blade around and forcing the other vampire the redress his own attack as the tip cut through the air centimetres from his chest. Moving faster than before I twisted around the descending blade, slamming my heel into the flat of the sword and snapping it cleanly in half. A heartbeat I was within his guard, grasping the vampiric ancient with the hate-mask by the wrist and crushing the bones. He was forced to drop the shattered blade from a nerveless hand and despite the injury he was utterly silent. I was moving now, ripping him around off his feet and putting the wounded bloodsucker between me and his comrade trying to hit me with his unbroken weapon.
An armoured fist caught me right across my face and I felt a tooth get knocked clean out of my enlarged maw. Another rocked my head back but by the time the third punch had been thrown I had turned my head and bit away most of his hand. Even with blood jetting from the wound and the sudden loss of fingers he still didn’t make a noise, instead he tried to jam his bleeding stump of a hand into my throat.
My own fist crashed across his face as I twisted him into the path of his comrade’s greatsword that speared him in the gut, punching out his back and coating the entire length in gore. Smashing into the metal mask hiding his features my fist tore it away, snapping the various straps that had affixed it to his face. For the first time during the fight, and perhaps for many years the vampire’s face was visible.
The bodies of the vampiric bodyguards were beautifully perfect in a way that could only be matched in carved marble, but their faces were not. Scar tissue covered every centimetre of naked flesh and savage knots of ancient wounds twisted the ancient vampire's expression to match my own daedric feature with its hideous nature. The creature’s nose had been hacked away long ago to allow the mask to sit closer and more firmly to its face. What was worse was that I could see that its lips had been sewn together with golden strands of an indeterminable string that was almost metallic, before being fused with a glowing crystal. Both these vampires hadn’t been making any noise during the fight as they were physically incapable of doing so.
Like the werewolves and the rest of the coven, these two bodyguards were mere thralls to the Matriarch. The crystals allowing their mistress to control them and ensuring complete and utter obedience. In the burning eyes of the creature I could see into the depths of an insanity that could’ve surprised Sheogorath Himself. Fuelled from decades, if not years of thirst that had not been satiated, both were utterly insane. If not for the burning crystal fused into their maw they would’ve sought death a long time ago.
Its torment was ended as it began burning, the eyes rolling into the back of its skull with an expression of bliss even as its skin blistered and peeled from the fire that consumed it from within. Now there was only two of us and I was moving even before the love-masked vampire could twist his heated blade from the ruins of his fellow.
A fist slammed into his head, another grasping it by the throat even as I knocked its sword to the side. The burning remnants of the vampire behind me scattered into the carpet and ruined it completely, leaving smouldering embers that were crushed underfoot as I pressed the other into the wall. Despite his size and strength, the other vampire ancient could do little more than lash at me with its hands and grapple with me. Moving like a professional wrestler, he locked a leg around one of my own, dropping us both into the singed carpet while we jammed hands, feet, elbows and knees into whatever we could reach. I felt my lip bust open as he head-butted me, a set of fingers jamming themselves into my armpit in search for the pressure point that dwelled within but I didn’t release my hold on his throat.
Instead I smashed my own head forwards as he went to repeat his attack. My ridged forehead mashed into the golden mask, splitting my brow open but deforming the metal slightly. After three head-butts the mask was looking as though it was a wax figure that had been placed too close to a fire. After six, blood was leaking out from the sides and the wearer was growing weaker. After the tenth the mask was crushed into the creature’s face, crumpled and leaking blood and other fluids from the tiny eye slits and breathing holes. Only then did I stop using my smashed head to deliver crushing blows and instead gripped it with both hands, roaring and twisting with a series of pops until its head faced the wrong way.
I was slowing down, my body finally beginning to tire and the daedric corruption seeping its strength away. The creature consuming my flesh was weakening its hold but it was not yet weak enough for me to regain any semblance of control. As the last of the Matriarch’s warriors burned away into the carpet and fragments of broken furnishings I rose to my feet, looking about at the carnage. Tasting the air with a tongue that coiled like a serpent across my fangs, I could taste the fear and the rot of a vampire far older than any I had faced before; even ones like Volmyr.
She knew I was coming. It was impossible for anyone not to know. The sounds of fighting continued in the hall behind me but it was slowly dying off and was sounding like a minor brawl over the battle it had been minutes before. I strode down the passageway towards the single door at the end, following and feeling her taste and scent on the air grow stronger with every step. Surprisingly the door at the end was unlocked, and even more surprisingly I reached out and opened it gently rather than kicking it open in an explosion of splinters.
The count’s bedroom was incredibly furnished. Silks from throughout the empire lavished the walls and the carpet felt thick enough that I could sink into it. I had few beds I had slept in that would have matched the richness and softness of the carpet underneath my blood stained boots. My clawed fingers left a series of crystal glasses and decanters chiming as I gave them the lightest of touches in passing, and I found myself wondering just how much wealth was contained in this single room. What did seem to surprise me was how a large majority of the items within the room had been recently added and were infinitely more priceless. Most of the newer items all shared the same blood-drop symbol of the Matriarch and they mingled in with the dozens of items of the late Count Albric.
Following the scent of fear and taking a passing interest in the dozens of rare artefacts scattered about, I almost walked past her. Overwhelmingly powerful, and a skilled practitioner of several schools of magicka she had been waiting for me in absolute terror, huddling in the main bedroom next to a bed large enough for five or six people to sleep comfortably within.
Her skill with magicka, especially that of Illusion had allowed her to consume and control the minds of dozens of individuals and enslave not only her own kind but of bestial creatures such as werewolves. She could control the unwilling bodies of those who stood before her, paralyse and blind and as I soon discovered, disguise her own appearance.
Despite her immortality, the vampiric curse had withered and eaten away at her own the centuries of her life. Just as Lord Volmyr had felt the weight of the years press down; she too had her skin pale and crease, tightening and ruining her natural beauty. The glamour that she had been carefully maintaining for so long was no more, stripped away by the scalding effects of the Light of Dawn’s enchantments that had broken her concentration of so many of her spells. While a good portion of her body had been unaffected I could see the trailing lines of fresh burns and blistered skin where the touch of magical light had caressed her.
"What are you?" She whispered, looking up at me with a face taut and wrinkled from age. No longer the peerless beauty that she had portrayed herself earlier, the visage of a hag looked me in the eyes.
"I’m unique." I growled, looking down at her as she shuddered. The glamour that she had cast was not one entirely fake. Despite the age that had corrupted her there was still signs that she had indeed been that beautiful many lifetimes ago.
Blackened like the bones of the dead vampires in the levels below us, my talons reached down and pressed into the flesh of her jaw, forcing her to rise to her feet and stare me in the eye. She was still taller than me, but there was no hiding the vampiric taint or her flesh. Fear and confusion wracked her body as she stood before me and I revelled in it. Her blood was singing to the beast within me, and despite the aura of death around her I could feel the dark attraction that drew our natures together. There was something within our mutual curse that held an attraction for each other that was far greater than anything sexual. As much as I yearned for the taste of her blood I knew without a doubt that she too could feel the shuddering desires to sink her fangs into my throat and taste my own daedric corruption.
My lips peeled apart in a horrific smile of needled fangs, my black eyes reflected in her own expression of terror at her realisation. So long had it been that she had been resisted by an individual or had even been touched without her permission. The mere fact that I had laid a hand on her was something she was struggling to comprehend, let alone when I pulled her hard into my embrace and sunk my fangs into her throat.
The intrusion left her tensed and arching her back, mouth open in a silent scream even as she clawed desperately at me. I felt claws sink into my face, drawing blood, hands slapping at me and legs writhing against me. Pressing her into the wall I sunk my teeth into her flesh even deeper, feeling the pulsating gore jetting into my extended maw that I gulped down without abandon. The blood was tingling, neither sustaining nor filling like the blood of mortals. What it lacked was more than made up with its potency.
Her struggles rapidly grew weaker as I drained her, feeling the gore shuddering itself into my throat and guts as I greedily slurped every bit I could. The front of my chest was stained anew with fresh blood, and the immaculate dress she wore was left hanging and ruined forever. There was no strength left in her body to resist as I drank my fill from her, ripping away with a mouthful of more than just blood. Spitting the hunk of flesh to the floor just as it caught alight I shuddered with the feeling of her strength infusing me. The closest I could compare the sensation to was when I first fed upon the Dremora, the overwhelming surge of energy and power that it infused every scrap of my flesh. My veins thundered and I could hear the roar of the blood rushing through my body, twisting me about even as she fell limp in my arms.
Death was near, only a few mouthfuls of blood away from meeting her patron lord in Coldharbour. Her blood stained my chin and most of my face, but it was lost to the sheer amount that ensured that I was covered from head to toe. It still tingled in my mouth and throat and I revelled in its intoxicating power even as her eyes fluttered closed.
Roaring with the effort, I dug my talons to the knuckles in her hip and shoulder, lifting her bodily above my head with arms growing tired from exhaustion. She was finally screaming now, despite the proximity to final death the agony of my claws inside of her snapping mind back to mundus once more. I was weary from the fighting, tired from the energy I had expended in the fight but now with her stolen strength inside of me the beast had one last death to claim. With the full strength of the daedra I twisted and folded her in half at the waist in such a way that the sound of her spine snapping was audible over her agonising shrieks.
Without even a second’s hesitation, I turned, facing the solid door that I had assumed led to another portion of the Counts private quarters before hurling her through it. Wood splintered and exploded outwards, shattering most of her bones and snapping hinges with the impact. Her screams were cut off in mid breath by the impact, the last of the air being forced out of lungs shredded by splinters of bone and wood. The door however didn’t lead to another room in the castle, but in fact led to a tiny balcony overlooking the courtyard. Light streamed in through the shattered hole and began stripping the flesh from her bones even as she flailed in the sudden emptiness. From where I stood her body simply dropped out of sight, burning away and leaving nothing more than a greasy smear of smoke and the distant thump of a body exploding into a starburst of blood and ash.
I stood in the beam of light shining through the ruined door frame, feeling the warmth across my flesh even as the beast returned to the darkness of my soul. There was little of the pain that had consumed me when I had first turned, but I was still left shuddering and drooling into the expensive carpet by the time it was all over. Talons slid back under skin, fangs rounded into molars and my face scrunched back into a man’s once more. Under my armour I felt my flesh writhe and shift, the strange protrusions along my forearms fading away and with it the unnatural size and strength in my limbs. Within minutes there was nothing left to show that a daedra had worn my flesh other than the carnage it had wreaked in its path.
Running footsteps echoed from the passageway and I found myself peering upwards and into the scowling features of Viconia. Like me, ash and gore covered every inch of her, streaming and dripping down her armour and bared flesh that left only her yellow eyes peering out of stained ebony flesh. She was panting, bleeding from a handful of scratches but was otherwise totally unharmed.
The Light of Dawn as ever, appeared immaculate and didn’t have a single drop of blood staining its surface.
The expression on her face was thunderous, and yet concern broke through the stony exterior. As I rose unsteadily to my feet she glanced between me and the blood splattered remains of door, trying to decide how she felt and how to show it.
"Vith’ez mal’ai." She spat, slapping me in the face as hard as she could before crushing me in an embrace.
We stood outside the door, listening to the muted voices coming from within and alternating between fidgeting and studying our surroundings. Only arriving in Anvil a few short hours previously, we had made our way more or less directly to the local Guild. Upon our arrival however it appeared that reporting to Azzan was going to have to wait; as he had a small collection of individuals who were already waiting to speak to him. So, we found ourselves waiting, choosing to remain in the upper levels of the chapterhouse rather than wandering about aimlessly.
 "They’re keeping busy at least." Muttered Viconia as she leant against the wall, arms folded and scowling.
 I grinned slightly. "That they are..."
 Glancing over to her I couldn’t help but feel more relaxed than I had in the past months. The journey from Glenvar had been thankfully short and quiet, and other than a brief stay in Skingrad we had continued on, leaving the darkness of that devastated county behind. It had been a fortnight since our arrival in Glenvar and the events that had followed, and we were beginning to feel the strain. For almost six months we had been travelling, and a vast majority of the time we were either on the road and had experienced fights and skirmishes almost constantly. The journey to Anvil from Glenvar had been purposely dragged out to give us some breathing space. As such and upon arriving in the port city I knew that Viconia was as thankful for the slight reprieve just as I was.
 "So I’m supposed to do what? Sit back and wait while something keeps killing my babies?"
 "I’m sorry Arvena, but I don’t have the fighters to spare for at least a week or more."
 The door to Azzan’s office was ripped open and the very flushed face of a dunmer woman appeared, the tight bun of hair slowly losing the fight to stay unravelled. "Well someone has to help me!" She shouted, anger and frustration eating away at her features and twisting them into an expression that could almost match Viconia’s in intensity.
 Ignoring Azzan’s cries from within his office she stomped past, barely pausing in stride but glaring at Viconia and I on the way past. Her anger was acid on the tongue and lingered in her wake as she left, muttering and cursing in Dunmeris the whole time.
 There was something akin to silence in the upper floors, lasting just long enough for the echoing boom of a door being slammed downstairs. It only partially hid the sigh from within the office before Azzan’s strained voice called out a single weary "Next!’ with the full expectation of the issues that that word could bring.
 "Sounds like you are making friends." I said as I entered the office, moving lightly a few short paces behind Viconia.
 Dressed in a simple cloth tunic and belted pants, Azzan was wearily rubbing at his temples and glaring at the pile of documents and parchments that were strewn across his desk. At the sound of my voice he glanced upwards, the strained expression washing away into relief and genuine pleasure.
 "By the gods it is good to see you both." He rose to his feet, shaking Viconia’s hand and then mine in his typical bone crushing fashion. "It’s even better that you aren’t some fresh petitioner or potential contract."
 "What’s the matter Azzan? Three or four months ago you were complaining of the lack of work, now there’s too much? Does anything make you happy?" The grin on my face and the sarcastic tone in my voice stripped away any potential offence I might have given, but I could see clearly how his eyes were starting to shrink into his skull and were red and inflamed. He obviously wasn’t sleeping well. If at all.
 "Hmph. Easy for you to say. You don’t have to deal with women like Arvena and her gods-damned rat problem every damn day." Blowing out a deep breath that puffed his cheeks he shook his head and motioned to one of the many cabinets within his room. "I don’t know about you two, but I could do with a drink."
 "Well... If you are offering." Viconia replied, moving over and gracefully sitting down into one of the chairs near his desk.
 "No brandy I’m afraid Kaius." The metallic clunk of his Warhammer was felt through the floorboards more than heard as he shifted it to one side to open the cupboard’s doors. "But I have managed to procure a bottle or two of wine that you might enjoy."
 "Wine?" I gave him a suspicious glance as he opened a tiny chest within the cabinet emblazoned with frost runes keeping its contents chilled. "Since when do you drink wine?"
 A trio of glasses appeared along with a bottle. "Ever since I won a couple of bottles in a game of dice." Pulling out the cork, he filled the three glasses and handed us one each. "This is one of Tamika’s. Vintage 399. Quite an expensive drop, but I’ve found it to my liking."
 Like an experienced connoisseur he lifted the glass and took a sip, smiling before pressing the chilled bottle to the side of his head to assist with an obviously building headache. Both Viconia and I took our own experimental sips, finding the rich ruby liquid to be very good indeed. My own enjoyment was ruined slightly by the colouring and texture reminded me all too much of fresh blood and the fact that I would need to feed over the coming days.
 "The guild almost looks deserted." Viconia said between careful sips of her drink, savouring the taste.
 Leaning against his desk he nodded and glanced between the two of us. "That’s because we are the busiest we have been in years. I can’t even remember a time when I had to turn down contracts, but since the siege the coin has been pouring in."
 "That good eh?"
 He gestured about the room and I couldn’t help but glance at his towering suit of plate armour hanging from its armour stand. It was strange how fleshy and mortal he appeared outside of it, almost as though there was less of him when not dressed in the steel. What was somehow more surprising was that outside of the armour he was shorter, and seemingly less muscular than myself. It was a dangerous assumption to be had though as his body was hard as iron and strong despite how it appeared.
 "We’ve taken on over two dozen new members in the past two months, and not a single one of them has been wanting for work. Most of our time these days has been taken over by training the militia and guard as the Countess has demanded. The rest of the time we’re trying to keep our usual contracts so when all this blows over we will still have some income."
 "It’s about time you got yourself some honest work."
 "Hah-hah, very funny Kaius." He took another sip. "Teaching people how to soldier isn’t exciting... But fuck the Countess pays well."
 Viconia smiled over the glass. "Well enough to gamble for wine?"
 "You bet, and it comes with other perks as well." The deep baritone chuckle made us all grin as he puffed out his chest proudly. "You just happen to be looking at one of County Anvil’s Military Advisors."
 My drawn out appreciate whistle made all of us laugh. "You’re moving up in the world."
 "Yeah, but like you two can’t talk." He gestured to us and the improved clothes and equipment that we wore in comparison to the last time we had been in the port city. "Sir Desin, and Madame Viconia..."
 "You heard about that did you?" Viconia muttered. While few others would have been able to notice, I could tell that she felt somewhat uncomfortable with the recognition.
 "My dear, all of Tamriel would have heard of how the Heroes of Kvatch, Champions of Anvil, Claimers of the Light of Dawn, are now also members of one of the most illustrious military Orders within all Cyrodiil..."
 "Great." The growl in her tone was audible as she looked darkly about the room. "What about saviours of Glenvar?"
 He stopped in mid motion. "I heard you cleared a den of Vampires when you retrieved the Light of Dawn, but that didn’t strike me as something you’d gain a new title for." For a moment he paused. "But then again... I wouldn’t be surprised if you were awarded a new title with every hundred things you kill."
 The glance that Viconia and I shared caught his attention and he sighed, wiping his mouth and placing his glass on the desk. "Okay, I’ll bite. What shit did you two get yourselves involved in this time?"
 "There was more than one coven of vampires in Glenvar." Viconia replied, staring at me intently the whole time.
 "And you killed them obviously."
 I nodded. "Yeah, but not before they had well and truly settled into their new home. The second coven had infested the Castle. Over the past couple of months, they had killed, infected or enslaved most of the Castle inhabitants and were in the process of doing the same to the entire county."
 Azzan stopped, looking between to two of us with stunned disbelief etched into his features. "I definitely haven’t heard any of this. When did all this happen?"
 "We were in Glenvar a fortnight ago. Managed to get there in time to rescue a few survivors holed up in the town hall, and the hundred or so locked up in the castle dungeon."
 "How many were there?"
 "Those we saved? Or the vampires?"
 I shrugged, meeting Viconia’s gaze. "A hundred, to a hundred and fifty survivors. And between fifty and hundred vampires and their thralls."
 "Don’t forget the werewolves." Viconia added, ensuring like she had the past fortnight that everyone knew exactly what we had been facing.
 "Werewolves?" Azzan asked incredulously.
 "Almost a dozen werewolves. The Vampire leading the coven was a sorceress and she was somehow controlling the werewolves with the help of a wizard she had enthralled."
 "You killed them all!?"
 Shaking my head, I kept glancing out of the corner of my eye at Viconia. Even before the blood has dried on our swords and armour, both Viconia and I had decided on a cover story. What had really happened was not something that either of us wanted known. In any form...
 "Not really. Initially we were captured, but after a bit of time Viconia managed to break free of their spells with her magicka. The vampire matriarch lost control over the werewolves in the process and they ended up running wild. For the most part they slaughtered each other."
 "So you two simply sat back and watched..." he said sarcastically.
 "Watched from the corner of the room with our backs to the wall." Viconia added. "Anything that got too close we killed. Then, once all the noise stopped we went about picking off the survivors."
 Looking at him I smiled and added a considerable amount of sarcasm to my voice. "The Light of Dawn is extremely effective against the bloodsuckers."
 He smiled at my comment and shook his head in amazement. "I bet it is."
 "I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it before now." I replied, looking over to him and finishing off my wine. "The entire county was more or less killed off. There is still several hundred people confirmed dead or otherwise missing as far as anyone can tell. Hells, even Count Albric was killed by the vampires."
 "Another Count dead?"
 "Very much so."
 Viconia placed her own glass on the desk and shrugged. "They skinned him and impaled him on a chandelier."
 Azzan frowned at that. "At this rate there’s not going to be any members of the Elder Council left."
 "Not sure that is a bad thing." I replied, and the three of us chuckled sombrely at the implications.
 "If I hadn’t been by your side the whole time we dived head first into Oblivion, I would have doubted that you could have survived a horde of vampires and a pack of werewolves."
 "You wouldn’t have been the only one." For a few moments I remembered the reactions of Glenvar’s survivors as they found themselves facing the gore and corpse filled ruins of the castle interior. Young Hadrgar especially had spent several long minutes cursing and swearing in complete surprise. His sentences and vocabulary had been reduced to the words; what, who, how, fuck, and the repeated in every possible combination.
 For Ylfgar’s part he had simply stood in stunned silence along with most of the others at the sight of the hall filled with bones, corpses and ankle deep ash, blinking with his remaining eye before finally muttering "If this is what you do when you are "just going in for a look around’, then what in the hells were you going to do if you attacked the place instead?"