Ever since I was old enough I had been taught how to hunt, how to stalk the beasts of the wilds and move throughout the lands unseen. Even before my tenth winter I had taken game with a bow, a bow that as I grew older and stronger grew ever more powerful. In my teens and my first years within the Legion they had taken my skills and tempered them further, teaching me to hunt men and mer and to kill with precision and discipline. Throughout the Empire I was one of the elite hunters, holding a rank and position within the Legion's elite.

  To the Bosmer Rangers I was little more than a rank amateur, a child who had only taken their first hesitant steps from the cities and towns with little to no knowledge at all.

  They were incredible, invisible and utterly perfect in every movement and step. Between their natural skill and years, if not decades of experience and the enchantments woven into their armour and equipment there was no hope for any outsider to match them. Not a branch or leaf moved in their passage, spiders webs were left unbroken and neither indentation or mark was left in their wake. They were utterly impossible to track or to follow and mortals would be left wallowing in their wake, completely ignorant of the presence of the Rangers unless they so wished.

  If I had been just a man, I would have lost them and would have been unable to follow within metres of leaving the campsite in the gorge. Only with my vampiric senses was I able to have the slightest chance of keeping on their trail, but the sheer effort to do so left my pulse thundering in my ears and my head throbbing. Neither track, scent, noise or even body heat allowed me to follow them as they had none. Their magicka was all too perfect but it did provide them with an unusual weakness. Magicka, no matter how subtle or faint left a trail, a trail that those attuned to such energies could follow.

  Using my limited experience and skill with magicka, and the senses of a vampire I was able to follow their progress through the wilds as they moved towards their quarry. The faintest of tingles and the hint of a headache in the back of the skull allowed me to travel in their rough direction. My vampiric senses though gave me a different option. Their stealth was absolute and left no trace, but in doing so left a tiny void where nothing remained. This space that they occupied was devoid of everything; heat, sound, light and movement and between following the tingle of their enchantments it was this nothingness that I was able to follow as they threaded their way through the forests and plains.

  One of the only real saving graces was that they were not moving quickly towards their quarry. They were moving no quicker than a normal hunter or tracker in the wild, instead moving carefully and sliding their way between trees and through shrubs as moving quickly would have disrupted the vegetation. Enchantments or not they were still solid and physical; not ethereal wraiths. Nonetheless, within the first hour of following in their footsteps I was almost certain that the trees, shrubs, bushes and the grass itself was moving around them and shifting to ease their passage.

  Within a second of fading into the forest, Malulain was gone. His skills eclipsed those under his command, and unlike the others there wasn't even an 'empty space' for me to follow. In fact, as midnight approached I hadn't seen or felt his presence until he appeared at my shoulder.

  "Your skills do you proud."

  My face was taut under my hood and mask, but his sudden appearance made me jump and nearly fall backwards in surprise. He stood there, impassively, but with an obvious grin behind his mask as I struggled to calm my nerves with a series of increasingly vile expletives.

  "Is giving people heart attacks another way you kill them?" I spluttered, rising from my crouch and feeling the tautness of my face fading.

  "It would be if it was efficient." The humour in his voice left me grinning despite the way my heart was beating its way through my ribcage.

  With a gesture, five other Rangers peeled themselves out of the shadows and I found myself standing in a circle with them. Each of the Rangers had incredibly detailed armour that were far superior in comparison to the one who had originally ambushed me, but none were as detailed as Malulain's.

  "We are close." One muttered, his words rolling across my ears and barely discernible from the light breeze in the air. "The ruin is nearby and they are there."

  Like a branch of a tree, a glove of spider's web and scales appeared from within the folds of a cloak, spearing a pair of daggers into the earth at his feet. Even from a few meters away, I could see that the two daggers were identical to the one that I had pulled from the chest of the dead Redguard, complete with their toxic braids.

  "Have they camped for the night?" Malulain's voice was cold and matched the darkness of the night that wrapped around us.

  "No father. From the reports from my scouts I believe they are attempting the ritual again."

  The unease that washed over them was obvious and I felt a similar chill course up my spine.

  "We must stop it, but we must not let them get away a second time." Steel crept further into his voice as the commander of the Rangers looked between his subordinates. "We cannot allow a repeat of Narind. They escaped then, but they will not escape now."

  With a boundless energy he stabbed his fingers at each of other Rangers, pointing and gesturing to emphasise his words. "Angudis, Siilyn, Glaromlallor, take your Warsmers and surround the ruins. Nimrdil, I want your Rangers with me in the main assault."

  There was collection of nods and the rustle of movement as each Ranger covered their mouths with their gloved hands in a salute. Malulain locked eyes with the fifth Ranger standing closest to me. She was shorter, but I was surprised to see that she was not carrying any weapons at all. What was even more unusual was the way that her armour and clothing was covered in tiny, thin creepers and vines that threaded their way through the spun fabric of her clothing and across the leather.

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  "Wylweneth, is the chorus ready?"

  The vine covered Ranger nodded, carefully and succinctly. "The Druid circle and Nature stands ready Father."

  Malulain's return nod was sombre and he turned to me, seeing my look of confusion and the question I was yearning to ask.

  "Where do you want me?" I said simply.

  "You have made it this far and have proven yourself capable." He replied. "I will have you by my side in the main assault."

  Carefully, I unstrung my bow, unfolded its travelling case and placed it inside. "Keep them from putting an arrow in my eye and I'll do what I can."

  Six sets of eyes, hidden in the depths of their hoods and glinting from within the ash-blackened sockets watched as I drew Sunchild. None of them had anything resembling a blade like those I had strapped to my spine, and even their longest swords were little more than lengthened daggers. If their corrupted brethren were equipped the same way, I would have a considerable advantage if I got in amongst them.

  "They must not be successful in completing the ritual and awakening the armour. If it costs us our lives, then it will be a fair payment to stop such evil."

  The hardened gazes of the Circle of Rangers swept across each other and I found myself gripping Sunchild tightly in my gloved fist. I had no intention of dying and while I couldn't rely on my vampiric abilities I had enough confidence in my own skill. Also, as long as I didn't get shot in the face I had the utmost confidence in my armour protecting the rest of me.

  As quickly as it had formed, the circle broke up and the group moved away. All around me I could sense the absences that revealed how many Malulain had under his overall command. Before the groups moved and faded into the forest and hills around us I was able to count over forty hidden Bosmer, and I would have bet a considerable amount of money that there would be others like their commander that I couldn't detect.

  "What is the ritual you mentioned?" I asked Malulain as we moved and joined a small group of rangers hidden behind their magicka.

  "A terrible one." The hesitation in his voice was enough to tell me that it was possible even worse than that. "the ritual we managed to stop in the ancient city of Narind came very close to succeeding. Eregor had sacrificed a handful of his followers, and was going to offer up one of the sacred artefacts of the Bosmer to Molag Bal to gain the Rape-God's favour. Graithlan's Vessel is a horror impossible to describe, but if its wearer is also a servant of a Daedric Prince, then the destruction and suffering that it will cause will have no bounds."

  "How do we stop it?"

  There was a chuckle from under his hood. "We kill them all. Failing that, we retrieve at least a piece of the armour. Unless it is complete it is useless."

  "Understood."

  The Rangers spread across the hills and moved through the trees and swaying grasses like spilled ink across polished obsidian. Most were hidden within their enchantments but as we moved over the slight rise and beheld the ruins I could sense their unease and the building pre-battle nervousness.

  I too felt uneasy, which wasn't difficult as the night had been one surprise after another and I was becoming increasingly certain that this would have to be some form of intense fever dream instead of reality. To find myself fighting side by side a group of Bosmer Rangers against a collection of their corrupted brethren in the service of Molag Bal attempting to raise a set of artefacts unique to the world was hurting my brain. Instead I found myself pushing such thoughts aside. Thinking about the situation wasn't going to do anything more than distract me from the upcoming fight.

  The corrupted Bosmer had set themselves up in a tiny collection of Ayleid ruins no larger than the grounds of a coaching inn or messenger post along the highways. Heavily covered in moss, grasses and shrubs, they had gone to considerable amount of effort to clear away a large area in the centre of the ruins. A handful of marble pillars were interspaced around the central ruins where an octagonal altar had been carved from marble. Where it once would have been polished to a mirror, thousands of years of wind and rain had rounded off the edges, and pitted and scoured the surface to the consistency of sandpaper.

  Malulain's Rangers had done their job of picking off the sentries and it allowed us to creep forward to the very edge of the forest and ruins, and see with our own eyes exactly what their corrupted brethren were attempting. There was no doubt in any of our minds as were lurked on the very edge of the forest and vegetation that they were enacting a dark ritual. Eight wooden stands had been erected a few meters from each of the altar's edges, each containing a bound and writhing Ranger nailed to it. Each had been ritualistically cut open, their ribcages peeled open and organs pulled out in various ways. Each were still alive and screamed as best they could but were unable to raise anything more than a sickening gurgle as their tongues had been cut out along with their eyes.

  Shadowed figures lurked in a circle around the altar, some standing behind the crucified individuals glowing as they fed enough restoration magicka into the sacrifices to keep them alive. Others lay prostrated on their faces, kneeling and chanting a dark tongue that crawled over my flesh like I had been bathed in maggots. On one side a single individual stood, hands raised to the sky and facing the figure standing on the altar and leading the rest of the corrupted Rangers in the chant. I could discern very few details of any of brethren in the ruins, but I could see that the two individuals standing by the side of the speaker, and the single being standing on top of the altar were easily as tall as I was.

  "The ritual has started." Malulain's hiss reached my ear as we crouched in the shadows. I was the only being in his group that wasn't hidden behind enchantments and his voice was the only sign that he was anywhere near me. "We do not have much time."

  I nodded in the darkness, knowing that he could see me even though I couldn't see or detect him. "What do you want me to do."

  A chuckle came from the shadow at my side as the Ranger commander removed his enchantments and became visible. "I have no doubt in your skill at arms, but as your stealth isn't as good as ours initially you will be little more than a distraction."

  The flutter of fear in my belly made itself felt and I chew on my lip. "I can play decoy easy enough."

  If Malulain was able to discern my nervousness he made no show of it, instead pointing to the figure leading the others in the chant. "Lariel is Eregor's second in command and his mate. She is the one enacting the ritual and to have any chance she needs to die first."

  Sunchild was a solid comfort in my grip and I rolled my shoulders and stretched my arms for the coming fight.

  "Just... Beware her Xivilai bodyguards." He continued softly. "You have slain daedra before but I'm unsure of whether you have faced ones such as those."

  "Xivilai?" I muttered, turning to face him. "What the hell are Xivilai?"

  Malulain was gone as quickly as he had appeared and there wasn't the slightest trace that he had even been there. All around me the empty spaces revealing the presences of the other Rangers began moving and I found myself bitterly cursing them and their stealthy natures.