As a result of the public brawl, both the entirety of the Fighters' guild and the Blackwood Company were placed under house arrest and confined to their respective headquarters in the city. The word of how Viconia and I had laid waste to the group that outnumbered us four to one was spreading through the city like wildfire, stories from eyewitnesses and exaggerated tales soon being repeated in every taphouse, tavern and street corner.
By order of the Count, the guilds were placed under lockdown, the Blackwood members who we had fought being placed under arrest and expecting prison sentences for starting the brawl. For most of the group they would only see the inside of a jail cell after they had gone through several weeks of intensive care and healing. As for Viconia and I, there was no doubt that we had fought in self-defence with the way how we had been unarmoured and with dozens of witnesses attesting to the way that the Company had started it. Both Viconia and I found it humorous that several ranking members of the guard had private discussions with us, stating that next time we got involved in a brawl in the city they'd appreciate if we could consider not crippling our opponents. There had been some complaints from a few of the vendors about their loss of stock and damage to their property and the way they had to mop up the blood staining the cobblestones. From what I heard though, the cleaning and repair bill had been delivered to the Blackwood Company to the amusement of the members of the Fighter's Guild.
The fight and the minor injuries that I had sustained had worn on my nerves turning the desire for blood from a dull murmur in the back of my skull into a yearning need. Through experience I had been growing accustomed to the needs of my body, predicting when the thirst would grow too strong to contain and when the best times were to satisfy it. Between my abilities in the darkness and my minor abilities with restoration I could feed with impunity, only taking lives when I wished it. The disgust with the way that I was now subconsciously considering all within the cities and lands we travelled as cattle to be milked to sustain me ate away at me, but there was no denying my nature.
During the evenings I sat in the room on the upper floors of the Fighters Guild, feeling the growing thirst even as I tried to suppress it by reading one of the books kept within the Chapterhouse. Poorly written and one of the many stories of previous battles and wars, it was a common enough book in an organisation more interest in coin and fighting. There were rarely any types of novels or fiction that I was coming to enjoy, and there were no writings to further my growing knowledge of the world.
Viconia lay sleeping quietly in the double bed, dressed in little more than a nightgown due to the stifling heat and humidity. After the fight with the Blackwood Company the day prior and the training we had undertaken through the hours of enforced lockdown she had retired relatively early. Choosing to sleep, it gave me a few hours to lose myself in my own mind, sitting at the tiny table with my feet up and book resting in my lap. With little more than a lantern providing light and the feeling of a breeze through the opened shutters I sat there quietly, listening to the sounds of a city slowly going to sleep for the night.
The church bells began to peal the midnight hour, the smaller bells almost appearing as tiny chimes to the bronze throated roars of the monsters in the cathedral several blocks away. As the twelfth toll echoed through the streets and quietened houses I rose from my chair, dimming the lantern's light by closing the shutters slightly. My day clothes had been ruined somewhat in the scuffle with the Blackwood Company, the blood of the high elf having stained down my side after stabbing him with the knife. Within the numerous wardrobes and chests scattered through the guild I had managed to find another couple of sets of clothes my size while my usual set was laundered. Changing from my linen pants I used for sleeping in during our stays in the cities I quickly dressed in a brown-grey set of pants and long sleeved shirt, pulling them tight with a spare belt and slipping on my minotaur leather boots. All of my armour, weapons and equipment were left where they were in their chests and leaning against walls as I felt the embrace of the darkness grip me tight.
I had learned that although I could change my form at will into a flock of bats or into a cloud of mist, the more I wore or carried, the more exhausted the transformations would leave me afterwards. Dressed in nothing but a shirt, pants and boots I moved like a ghost, sparing a single glance over to Viconia's lithe body as she lay sleeping before letting the beast loose and slipping out the door.
There was the usual moment of attraction that the beast had for her, the half-imagined desire to crawl up over the top of her as she lay on her stomach on the linen sheets. There was the taste of her on my tongue and the memories of our activities during the nights over the week previous and knowing exactly how delicious she tasted. The thought of pressing my fangs into her throat and drinking while simultaneously making love to her was almost overwhelming, but with a deep yearning ache in my gut and loins I closed the door silently behind me.
The shadows beckoned, and I floated down the hall towards the stairs leading to the ground floor. The Guild had been built out of solid stone but even if it had been made from wood my nature ensured that not a sound of my passage would be heard. Draped in shadow, the handful of faintly burning candles weren't enough to reveal me and I shifted my way through the halls listening to the dozens of snoring and sleeping individuals.
Statustius, an aggressive looking Imperial with his hair streaked with silver prowled the chapterhouse during the evening hours. Missing a hand from a battle many years ago he was the porter; remaining in service to the Guild as nightwatchman and overall master of the chapterhouse and its finances. While the years were beginning to take their toll on his body in its slow descent to frailty and fat he was one of the few individuals that the local members did not cross. With both eyes kept open as he stalked the guild for thieves and other malcontents he failed to notice me sliding through the shadows even as I moved in front of him. There was a momentary shiver from the aging mercenary as I coiled around him like a snake, feeling the intoxicating pump of his blood through his veins as I reached out and weaved his will into my own. With the merest thought, I sent him off deeper into the building and away from the entrance before evaporating into steam and heading for the door.
The two city guards outside of the entrance visibly jumped as the doors creaked open and they ended up sharing curses between themselves at the state of the door and its urgent need for repairs. Apparently by their muted conversation, the door opening on its own had been a regular occurrence all evening and neither of them noticed that the evening mists grew thicker around them. With the streets thick with an increasing fog rolling in off the marshes and rice paddies, I was even more undetectable than clad in the shadows. Without a glance at the grumbling guards ensuring the fighters remained in lockdown, I faded into the back alleys of Leyawiin.
My senses grew and I returned to my shadowed form several blocks away from the chapterhouse, gliding my way through the streets and hiding from the light of the burning lanterns and braziers. I could sense the hundreds of inhabitants sleeping comfortably within their homes, content and dreaming peacefully with only the rare nightmare breaking their thoughts. Both moons was full in the sky, but their light was no threat to revealing me and I crossed open plaza's and the city's squares with impunity.
The choice on whom to feed was overpowering to the growing mental strength of the beast. With the strange sensation of being trapped before a banquet with the heady smell and sensation of beating hearts around me I struggled not to salivate and kick in the first door I moved past. With such a selection of an entire city before me I could feed on the elderly, the sick, the frail, the young, the strong, the powerful and the just. All could potentially feel the sensation of my fangs cutting into their jugulars but it wasn't resistance from my humanity that held me back.
After my battle with the Vampires of Nornalhorst and seeing the sickening lows of depravity that awaited me, I no long sated my thirst on just anyone or anything. Seeing the cannibalistic insanity that awaited me if I fed upon the beasts of the wilds and the sick I was no longer content with feeding on the first individual I came across.
Slowly I moved around the courtly form of one of the many women of the night, breathing in her scent and feeling her heart start to race as her sixth sense picked up that something was amiss. Feeding on whores and other people who ply their trades during the night had been an easy way of sating the need for blood over the previous months and I enjoyed the thrill of her proximity as I surrounded her. She gasped softly as I gently caressed her mind with my will, running a clawed digit up the softness of her breast where they had been crushed upwards and together by her corset. The wetness of a tongue ran up her throat that left her knees weak before I left her standing in the darkness, edgy and unsure of what had just come over her. Instinctively hastening her way towards the nearest source of light she moved from my reach as I grinned from the depths of the shadows with a maw of fangs, letting her go and knowing that finer meals awaited me.
Heading in the direction of the towering wall of Leywiin's castle and stone keep I continued my passage through the darkness. Once again shattering a superstition regarding my curse I crossed the moat without hindrance; proving that the ancient stories of vampires being unable to cross flowing water utterly false. At such an hour the gates were closed, their steel portcullises securely jammed down with their massive weights and keeping the castle secure from outsiders. To a normal mortal thief or assassin the walls were almost unscaleable, lacking nearly any form of handholds or grooves. The walls, five stories in height and their well patrolled battlements ensured that only a member of the Dark Brotherhood would ever consider attempting the climb.
Blackened claws of ivory tipped every finger and I scaled the walls like an arachnid, effortlessly hauling myself up the sheer edge and sliding over the crenulations like a liquid. In less than a dozen heartbeats I placed my boots on the upper level of the battlements, looking about with my eyes revealing the castle in all its majesty.
Allowing my limbs to relax and remove the mild burning of exertion of climbing up the wall, I looked over the sight of a fortress rising from the edge of the city. Separated from the rest of the city by a moat ten metres wide and enormous drawbridges, Castle Leyawiin was built almost into the bay itself. To the south lay the port with its jetties and docks filled with trading vessels and their rolled up sails, and the east was the enormous river mouth and estuaries of the lower Niben. Dozens of kilometres across only I would have been able to see the far bank with my vampiric sight, but the clusters of islands could be seen by all.
Behind me Leyawiin slept peacefully, the flickering beats of hearts appearing as tiny, red flickering blurs to my eyes. I knew that it was not my eyes, but my ears that were detecting the mortals in their homes and beds but somewhere in my tortured mind it left the rolling afterimages on the edges of my sight. Smoke coiled from bakeries and smithies and the handful of chimneys venting the last ashen tastes of the evening meals into the sky shuddering with the rolling thunder of bells. One hour past midnight, the single metallic rumble echoed into the depths of the night, vanishing over the sea of rice paddies and plantations of sugar and tobacco.
Four times the size of Fort Grief, the Castle was large enough to house an entire legion's worth of tents in the courtyard with space to spare. It had been built specially to control the access into the Niben as the only sections of the river mouth and bay deep enough for shipping ran within four hundred metres of the outer walls. While towers were placed are regular lengths around the walls there were fat clusters of the rounded structures on the eastern edges. Each were covered with misshapen mounds of canvass where the thick coverings protected the tall arms of siege trebuchets and catapults underneath.
Every twenty metres a tower jutted from the stonework, blocking the walls and battlements into more easily defendable expanses that any besiegers would have to take one at a time. Thick doors of imported oak and locally hewn timbers from the depths of Blackwood were set into the base of every tower, providing access to the living quarters for the men-at-arms and professional soldiery in their hollowed-out depths. Each tower was a maze of passages and doors, the rooms themselves providing platforms for archers and crossbowmen to hold off attackers through the series of arrow slits and loopholes.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Sliding along the battlements between the two towers I had climbed between, I felt and heard the sleeping men-at-arms sleeping within. Along the walls the muffled clank of armour and jingle of chainmail announced the handful of soldiers patrolling the walls in their attempts at ensuring that the evening passed without incident. In such a place the number of potential victims to my curse were limited, but were of a much greater stock than the teeming multitudes in the city below me.
Choosing to climb over the tower instead of attempting to gain entrance through the closed and locked doors built within them, I scrabbled over the tower. Moving around the canvassed catapult built into the roof of the tower that smelt of oiled wood and sinew I peered over the edge of the crenulations, looking at the single figure slowing making its way along it's lonely vigil. From my position on the roof of the tower I could see little details of the figure, but the growing hunger pains were not going to be denied for much longer. As the armoured form of the night guard turned to stare out over the northern fields I climbed over the wall, dangling for the briefest of moments before dropping four metres and alighting without a sound.
Without a torch to light her passage, and relying on the handful of braziers strategically placed along the walls with their embers slowly dying of starvation there was no way that the soldier could see me in the shadows. Sliding up behind her I looked over her shoulder at the gleaming lights surrounding the enormous fortress-monastery of the local Knightly Order, feeling her heart beating in her chest and smelling the aroma of oiled metal and old leather. Obviously well into her shift I could feel the fuzziness of her mind from the evenings embrace and the way that she continued blinking away sleep in the early morning chill made itself felt. Well used to similar guard duties during my time in the Legion I knew all too well how the night shifts played on the mind, the lack of noise or movement making it difficult for the mind to remain focussed. Alone on top of a secure castle in one of the most militarised cities in Cyrodiil, surrounded by the snores of dozens of her comrades-in-arms there was no sign of any danger even with a vampire in the shadows at her back.
Only a few years my junior, hair and features and traces of her femininity hidden beneath layers of chainmail, leather and surcoat there was little to separate her from the dozens, if not hundreds of other soldiers. Only through my enhanced senses could I smell the youth and strength and the purely female scent that radiated from her flesh despite the accoutrements of war.
A shiver ran through her, the spear and shield strapped to her arm shuddering as the limb trembled. While cooler than the heat of the day it was strangely comfortable nonetheless. Some hidden, dormant instinct within her had alerted her to the danger of my presence and she turned, blinking confusingly and finding herself staring into the reflection of her face in my eyes that were less than arm's length away.
The momentary surge of fear that consumed her mind was crushed by my relentless will snaking out of my mind and through her eyes. There was a stiffening of muscles no longer obeying the commands of their owner, a tensing of instincts and muscle memory forged in hundreds of hours of training before everything relaxed and went slack. The grimace of battle-readiness transformed in the smile of one seeing an old childhood friend, and she leaned against the parapet as I stepped towards her.
Under control of my will, deep and terrible with the darkness of my soul she was devoid of fear and instead other emotions bubbled to the surface. As soft as the breeze I slid fully from the shadows, hearing the scrape of metal rimmed wood as she placed her shield against the crenulations and wrapping our arms around each other. The dangerous charisma of the beast within me was unnaturally strong when unshackled, and while used to looks of desire in the recent weeks they were nothing in comparison to the enticement of the vampire.
I pulled her close, feeling the jarring metal plates of her armour and the solid layers of chainmail under the belted surcoat even as she sighed quietly in my ear. Jingling and chiming, her nasal helm and attached aventail was pulled from her head before being placed softly on the top of the wall before pulling the leather hood back and letting her hair flow in the evening breeze. Slightly shorter than myself and skin containing the merest hint of Nibenese bronze from some grandparent, she might not have been considered one of the most beautiful in the city but outside of her armour she still would've turned heads.
Hair cropped short in the style of the legion brushed against the side of my tightened jaw as I pulled her close into the embrace, smelling the perfume of her flesh and sensing the increasing beat of her heart from my proximity and touch. Clawed and terrible, a finger traced its way down the curve of her jaw and lines of her throat, drawing out a gasp of pleasure. Shivering at the touch that portrayed the deep seated lust of the vampire's presence she groaned huskily, running her hands down my back and digging her gloves fingers into my ribs and spine. There was a growing need inside of her that matched my own, despite the difference in their natures and subjects of desire. The groan that she had been holding back rolled from her throat as my lips and tongue began their spiralling journey down her throat.
As her legs opened instinctively and I pressed between her armoured thighs I gripped her by the waist and the back of the head, running my fingers through her hair as she arched her throat. Tracing the vein with my lips she sighed loudly as I gave her one last, sensual lick before burying my fangs in the flesh of her throat.
Shuddering and moaning with a mixture of pain, horror and overwhelming pleasure she twitched in my arms, simultaneously pulling away and drawing herself closer to the intrusion of my fangs in her neck. Bubbling around my piercing incisors the blood welled and flowed into my mouth, leaving me to do little more than gulp and swallow the hot coppery fluid. Our eyes mutually rolled into the backs of our heads as we embraced with my feeding, and I continued to swallow as the feeling of warmth spread and strengthened my body.
Within seconds of drinking my fill a shocked cry of alarm reached my ears and I tore myself away from her throat. Unseen and unheard during my feeding, one of the tower doors had opened as one of the other castle Men-at-arms continued with his own shift. With less than a dozen metres separating between us he had initially believed that he had stumbled across his comrade in the middle of some illicit tryst in the deepening hours of the morning but my appearance put that thought to rest. In a dawning realisation that left him scrabbling for the hilt of the sword at his hip he made a strangulated cry of horror and revulsion, staring into my eyes and instinctively recognising me for what I was.
With blood streaming from my lips and mouth and covering my chin with gore I released my grip on her and hissed my displeasure at the interruption. The all-consuming rage threatened to take control as the beast dearly wanted to leap upon the terrified guard and bear him down to be drained. Somehow, resisting the urge and retaining the small semblance of humanity within my cursed form I staggered backwards, hearing him shriek and scream on the top of his lungs of the threat within the castle walls. The sound of bells began ringing from within the nearest gatehouses as those within began sounding the alarm without the awareness of the danger, and I twisted between the two of them. I looked between the soldier wielding his drawn longsword in unsteady hands and the young woman I had been feeding on as she slid down the wall holding the wound on her throat. What control I had over her had been completely severed with the discovery of my feeding and she sat heavily onto the stones, staring with mind consuming terror at my darkened form and significance of the pain in her neck.
I roared on the top of my lungs, breaking into a sprint that only a horse would have been able to match in speed at the guard standing in the tower doorway. Howling so loudly and terribly that everyone within earshot would suffer nightmares for the weeks to come he dropped his sword with a clatter, all his instincts consuming his thoughts and training to leave him dropping to the ground in a huddle. Crying with terror at what he assumed was to be his death he didn't even lift his head as I leapt over him, my clawed digits sinking into the upper reach of the tower in a single leap.
In the darkness on top of the tower I wrapped the shadows around me and vanished from sight. Pealing sounds of bells and the questioning shouts of guard commanders echoed up from all around me as the entire castle was awoken from its slumber. The cries of 'Vampire' mobilised dozen of guards and men-at-arms who exploded into activity, streaming from darkened doorways bearing fresh torches even as they rushed to dress and arm themselves. Within a minute of the first cry breaking the quiet of the evening I had already dived off the walls, leaping into the open space without hesitation. Exploding into mist and reforming with less than a metre from the ground allowed me to land with all the ability and grace of a Khajiit acrobat.
Speeding through the darkness I struggled not to feel terror of my own threatening to consume my soul. Animalistic and feral, the vampire yearned to shed death but was also fearful like a fox being pursued by hunters. Cursing myself for my arrogance and stupidity of feeding in such a dangerous location I swore constantly, fearful for being recognised while somehow retaining a confidence that while transformed I was more beast than a man. Very little of my humanity remained while the vampire wore my flesh as its own and the fact that I could survive sunlight would confound any potential accusers.
Choosing to clamber up the sides of the Guild's chapterhouse rather than braving the front door with the growing wave of unrest and alarm spreading through the city I made my way up the three stories with far greater ease than the sheer castle walls. By little more than my own mentally formed maps of the interior and my intimate knowledge of Viconia's unique heartbeat I slid inside our shared room, peeling out of the embrace of the shadows and closing one of the windows behind me.
The slightest hint of a click announced the closing of the window's latch barely reached past my ears, and I felt the rough wood grain pressing into my forehead as I breathed heavily and willing my heart to stop racing. Adrenaline surged through my body, rippling it with its embrace while the might of the vampire slowly slid into the recesses of my mind. Idly I licked at the blood that still stained my lips and chin, feeling the guilty surge of pleasure at the taste on my tongue.
The presence in the darkness shifted slightly and I whirled around purely on instinct, all nerves wired and twitching with the anxiety and fear of being caught. I had indeed been caught, but not by some random member of the guild or a stray guard but by Viconia.
She stood in the shadows, the darkness of the room absolute with the closed shutters and the dead candles and lantern. Without my vampiric sight she would have been invisible, her ebony skin merging her form with almost the same effectiveness as I did with becoming one with the shadows.
Like my own vampiric sight, she could see into the depths with greater ability than a Khajiit. Likening it to the magical powers of Nighteye and other enchantments; any form of ambient light was amplified in such a way that the interior of a castle could be revealed to her with a single dim candle. In the pitch blackness of the world's depths where there was no ambient light, she could also utilise an ability that allowed her to see the heat of her surroundings. This form of vision seemed to reflect the heat she could see as burning lights in her eyes, leaving them glowing red and giving her an unnatural, daedric appearance in the gloom.
The hints of smouldering coals in the darkness narrowed as she looked over my appearance in front of the window, moving forward until there was barely any space between us. There was a flicker of fear from her as she beheld my changed appearance as I forced the last of the beast into the depths of my soul, the last of my transformed visage shifting away, skin and muscled relaxing as my pointed incisors slid back to their original positions in my jaw.
There was concern on her high bones features, looking over me and tilted her head at the muffled sound of bells spreading through the streets as the alarm spread. With her proximity I felt a lump catch in my throat, realising that under the thin layers of the gown that she had hurriedly thrown around her shoulders she wore nothing else.
"I'm guessing that that is because of you?" She asked softly, nodding in the direction of the window and the sounds shattering the silence of the evening. One of her hands floated through the air, caressing my cheek briefly before the sensation of moisture and my instinctive recoil away from her touch separated us.
A strange expression filled her eyes as she felt the sticky, drying blood that still covered my chin and had dribbled down from the corners of my mouth. She carefully rubbed the dark wet patch on her hand, swirling part of it between forefinger and thumb while looking up at me as I turned to wipe the congealing mess onto the back of my sleeve.
"It's alright." She whispered into my ear and rested a hand onto my shoulder. "I've seen you with a lot more blood on you that that."
With a corner of her dressing gown she wiped away at the last remnants of blood, moving herself closer to me as she did so. "What happened?"
I sighed and licked the last few congealing drops off my lips, shuddering with the taste. "I got caught feeding." Was all I could bring myself to say.
"Did they recognise you?" there was concern in her voice as she asked the most pressing of questions, and all I could do was shake my head slowly.
"You barely recognise me when I am changed." I stepped around her and more into the centre of the room, feeling her follow me close. "I don't think that anyone will know that it was me, but now everyone will now that there is a Vampire in Leyawiin."
The soft sound of her bare feet padding on the floorboards reached my ears and she moved closer and wrapped an arm around my shoulders before drawing me down for a kiss. I felt the tingle of desire rush between us, her tongue hungrily entering my mouth and seeking out the hints of blood that it still contained. My own hands ran down her sides, grasping her by the hips and pulling her closer.
"They will look, but they will not find you Mrannd'ssinss." She whispered as we broke apart from the kiss and dragged me onto the bed.
