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3.12 - The Coven of Blood

  As far as I could tell, the entirety of the vampiric population and their servants had retreated into the main hall, waiting for us to arrive and providing mutual protection for all. Other than the semicircle of halberds and pikes, most of the foul creatures were in various positions across the floor, lounging on pillows and various pieces of furniture with barely the slightest consternation that others of their coven had been killed. Some were barely dressed at all, clad in little more than silken togas that did little to hide their modesty. Others were naked, their pallid flesh making a stack contrast between the comparatively tanned skin of the thralls that were mixed within their number.

  Over half however were fully armed and armoured, their gleaming plate and chainmail catching the light of the handful of the braziers and torches that were scattered throughout the hall. Maintained purely for the benefit of the thralls, the room was overwhelmingly lit for vampiric standards but allowed me to know for certain that the castle had fallen to darkness. A number of the armoured vampires were still clad in the black-steel chainmail and dressed in surcoats emblazoned with the Dragon emblem of County Glenvar. Most of them had the iconography that they had worn in life desecrated in some fashion. Whether it be cloth patches sewn over the dragon images or the simple expediency of soaking the cloth in blood, there was no doubt their loyalty was no longer to the living.

  The others were more concerning, their blued steel armour marking out the number of the more ancient vampires. Some I could tell were old, far older than those I had encountered in the depths of Nornalhorst and everywhere I looked I could see the strange gleaming blood drop symbol. It marked pauldrons, embossed cuirasses and even some of the plate helms they wore had the carefully carved glass gems set into the metal.

  But where the vampires and their minions caught my attention, I could still see how they had stamped their presence into the castle in the way only their kind could manage. It had once been a majestic visage of the wealth of Glenvar County, an enormous expanse for the powerful and rich to gather but now was nothing more than a portal into the depths of oblivion.

  Cages filled with the freshly dead lined the far wall, the exsanguinated victims of the vampiric coven having been discarded once the parasites had their fill. Most were still fresh, their eyes glassy and unseeing despite the pain and horror that still gripped their flesh tight, and I couldn't help but notice that some of the lesser creatures and the thralls had been in the process of carting off the bodies when we had interrupted them.

  In a handful of seconds, we had scoured the room with our eyes, seeing the several armoured pikemen and halberdiers tense for our assault and the dozens of lesser creatures begin to shuffle themselves away. Despite the numbers I was confident of our chances with the gleaming Light of Dawn gripped tight, but even as I began to move forward I suddenly found my body slowing and refusing to obey my mind.

  As though I had been trapped to my neck in a marsh, I found my limbs trembling with the sheer exertion to simply move. Every muscle was twitching and writhing under my flesh but within seconds I found myself completely unable to move. Paralysis gripped me tight, turning me into a fleshy statue that could do nothing more but look about the room with building terror at being helpless.

  Surrounding us, the mass of armoured vampires relaxed, smiles breaking their waxy features and revealing a sea of fangs and eyes burning with hunger. Pikes were shuffled upwards, and halberds and pulled back to rest on armoured shoulders and as a group they all casually stood up from their spearwall formation and began laughing.

  Viconia too was affected in the same way. both of us were stuck, unable to move or do anything more than blink and look around the room. The noxious, crawling sensation of magicka wormed its way into the back of my mind and I could feel the surging headache begin to throb in my consciousness, growing ever fiercer as a black robed man stepped out of the corner of my vision weaving intricate patterns with his hands.

  "So you are the ones responsible for hurting my pets." The voice seemed to slither pleasurably across my skin like Viconia's lips during the nights we spent in each other's arms. My every desire and instinct was to move, to break the crippling paralysis affecting my entire body, but not matter how I struggled and railed against my own body I was trapped.

  Even my throat was constricted, the breath in my lungs slowing as I managed to drag in sips of air through a mouth frozen in a grimace of concentration. The owner of the voice was far off to the left, sounding incredibly feminine and painfully alluring, especially compared to the rough growls and rasps from the hedge wizard standing in front of us as he kept us trapped in our own bodies.

  "Please relieve our guests of their weapons." The voice continued, sliding the words around us like coiling mist. "They will not be required."

  In a horror matched by Viconia's the guards stepped forward, shouldering their weapons while their number went about the process of disarming us. Such a task was not something that was done quickly, and over several minutes they thoroughly searched us for anything that could have been used as a weapon, unbuckling sheathes and plucking our swords and daggers from our grasps. Through sheer force of will I managed to hold onto the Light of Dawn for several long seconds, refusing to let the only real hope we had against the creatures around us despite the surging magicka that consumed my muscles. In the end my hand finally snapped open like a bear trap, taking a pair of vampires to pry my fingers open even as the wizard subtly changed his magicka in an attempt to help them claim the weapon.

  Pulling the Light of Dawn from my grasp, one of the vampires gave an appreciative whistle as he looked over the magnificent weapon and its faintly glowing blade. Even as he marvelled at the keenness of its edge, listening to the way the faint breeze made the weapon sing he laughed in my face. Unable to move to change expression, he knew all too well the thoughts and emotions running through my mind.

  My daggers were taken, as was Sunchild and Viconia too lost Dragonbane and her other knives. Every seam, pocket and boot was checked and only once they were satisfied did the collection of cursed beings step back from our frozen forms.

  "Pridir, please make our guests more at home. They look so uncomfortable standing there in such a state."

  Not taking his eyes off us for a second, the hooded wizard nodded. "Yes Mistress."

  Both hands outstretched, one pointing to each of us, his chanting suddenly changed and the words became subtly different. Soon, both eyes were glowing faintly blue, the magicka steaming from under his eyelids as he took control over us like an unskilled puppeteer. The sudden jerking motion of my legs startled me even more than the crippling lack of control over my own body, and I fought against the pressing will that writhed in my mind. I had seen a Battlemage within the Legion use a command humanoid spell for the purposes of taking prisoners, but nothing matched the overwhelming power that this mage had at his fingertips. Without even the slightest effort he moved us about, twitching and jerking our bodies through the press of laughing and cackling creatures.

  The only control I had over my body was over my eyes and I frantically looked about the press, trying to see or think of something that could help us. The Mage was too overwhelmingly strong, his ability insidious and impossible to break free of and I somehow knew in my mind that this being was the one responsible for the illusions that had plagued the village during the night.

  Unfortunately, he was but a minion to a being of even greater potency. Catching little more than glimpses of Viconia staggering about beside me, her eyes wide and the smell of her fear growing to match my own I soon found myself staring into the features of something I had never believed possible.

  She was tall, easily two metres in height and a full head taller than myself. After so many months in Viconia's company I had long since grown used to being in the presence of beautiful women, but if my chest and throat had been under my control then the breath would have been caught in my chest. A single look into the flame red eyes of the vampiress left me struggling to remember my own name, and for several moments I was completely unable to continue resisting the wizard's control.

  Unlike the others of her kind, her skin was pure and perfect, not a single mark or blemish to be seen on the flesh that she had on display. There was still the lifeless pallor shared by all vampires but her lips, cheeks, and curves of her face were a deep and luscious red hue that seemed to draw out the exquisite beauty of the Vampire Matriarch. A dress made from the finest of silks flowed around her like smoke in the air, wafting about in non-existent air currents with every movement and left very little to the imagination. She didn't as much walk, but instead seemed to glide over the ground without touching the floor, a pair of long curvaceous legs splitting the sky-blue silk and revealing tantalising hints of what lay underneath.

  Behind her, the members of her entourage followed in her wake, the collection of individuals appearing almost out of place to her immaculate presence. Just as tall as what she was, there was a pair of what could only be her personal champions; two blood-bound Vampire Ancients so grim and terrible in their silent fury that they could've stopped a charging army in its tracks with a single glance. Bare chested, and dressed in a toga tied off at the shoulder there was nothing hiding the fact that they were the strongest looking pair of individuals I had ever laid eyes on. Even the wrestling champion of the legion I had seen several years ago had a physique eclipsed by these vampires. Every motion they made seemed to bunch and tense the muscles under their skin as though they are steel ropes, and the oils that had been rubbed into their pale skin had left them appearing as though they were carved from the purest marble. Golden greaves, boots and gauntlets shone with wealth, and both of their faces were hidden behind funeral masks carved to represent hate and love. Only the tiniest of holes allowed them to see in the golden metal, hiding their features completely from sight and leaving them with as much emotion as a pair of dwemer automatons.

  The rest of the entourage were as varied as they were unusual. A trio of bejewelled vampires carried tiny braziers that filled the air with the smell of exotic spices and burning incense, and one of them seemed to carry little more than a satin cushion with what appeared to be a flame scorched skull. At the rear of their little group as they walked down the stairs to the Count's quarters was a single armoured Vampire, dressed in a flowing cloak and dragging a sorrowful group of individuals along with a set of chained collars. In comparison to the overwhelming wealth on display with the rest of them, these five collared and shacked beings were almost entirely naked except for a handful of rags. All five of them continuously twitched and all shared the same blank expressions of eternal suffering and madness that left me feeling a distinctly different unease despite the situation we were in.

  Of her closest followers, only the pair of champions were armed and between them a pair of enormous greatswords were held in arms bunched and twisted with biceps larger than my thighs. There were orcs that would kill for such strength and power shown by the pair of silent guardians.

  The Matriarch moved across the hall with all the softness of a shadow, gliding effortlessly through the room as the crowded press of her coven parted like waves before a ship. Almost all within the room were grovelling on the floor, those without arms or armour prostrating themselves and the guards lowering their eyes and making an effort to ensure that they never laid eyes on the leader of their coven. With the merest of gestures, a pack of them broke away, lifting and carrying the castle throne from where it rested at the far end of the hall, placing it down behind the Matriarch as she lowered herself down to sit.

  "You two must those responsible for hurting my pets." She said simply, the words cold and somehow overwhelmingly alluring. Carefully she sat down with all the skill of a queen, folding her long dress underneath her and showing the hints of her long legs under the blue silk.

  For a moment she rested daintily in a throne previously owned by a member of the Elder Council, looking between the two of us with an expressionless mask of a face. There was a tiniest of nods to those of her coven crowding around us and the blackened shadow of the Wizard lurking in the corner of my eye.

  The emanating magicka from the wizard, and the growing sense of power from the creature sitting in front of us stabbed into my mind even as Viconia and I were forced to obey. Entrapped in the rolling waves of energies our bodies lowered themselves into the seats provided for us, hands resting lightly on the armrests and feeling the velvet surface under my fingertips. Despite the way that we had no control over what we did, we had not lost any sensation which was not something that boded well for either of us.

  "You have trespassed upon my lands, killed my subjects, and have had the tenacity to severely injure my darling pets." She said simply. Laced into her words was a powerful illusion magicka that was pounding against our will and selfcontrol, and within seconds of her speaking I knew without a doubt that the dozens of vampires and thralls surrounding us had been broken down into menial servants by the overwhelming might of her will. "I had been wondering who was responsible for making my cattle resist so effectively last night. Especially as it cost me three of my hounds."

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  The burning eyes locked into my own and I found myself struggling to resist her mind. The dark taint and allure of the exquisite vampire Matriarch was almost impossible to defend myself from but the choked off cry of horror gave me something else to concentrate on for a moment.

  Tearing my gaze from hers and seeing the momentary flash of annoyance across her face I looked over a smooth shoulder at a small collection of individuals being herded from the rear of the hall. There was only half a dozen of them but the sight set a burning fire in my guts that was fuelled by nothing more than hatred to the creatures around me. While some within the castle were thralls; men and women who had given themselves over to the vampires mentally and physically, there still seemed to be some who were prisoners. A pitiful collection of women and children were herded out of my sight, the sounds of their crying and horror at seeing Viconia and I trapped in front of the Matriarch ripping into my soul.

  As they were lead towards the prison in the lower levels, the Matriach looked over Viconia and I, watching our eyes and judging our reactions by how and where we looked alone. Even unable to move a single muscle of my face I knew that she could feel my growing hatred and anger.

  "The cattle have been especially boisterous today." There was a sigh from her and she tilted her head as though showing disapproval to an unruly child. "Some of my more... dull servants had mentioned the defiance of last night and that seems to have given them the idea that they can resist their betters."

  The door that Viconia and I entered the hall closed with a boom and there was another rolling cackle of laughter from the collection of vampires and mortals behind us.

  "But it doesn't matter now. I have you both, and tonight when the sun sets I will let my children go into the village and ensure that no one is left." Sickeningly fascinated, I found myself staring at the long, elegant fingers as she tapped on her luscious bottom lip in thought. Her skin may have been perfect everywhere else, but every finger seemed to be stained black to the knuckles from countless years of opening veins. "However, I am curious to whom you both are."

  I felt the muscles of my neck and face suddenly relax with a gesture from the Matriarch. The Wizard was still there, chanting under his breath but she had somehow managed to dispel the tiniest fraction of his magic to allow us to speak. Neither of us made a sound but the relaxation of our faces allowed us to show our overwhelming hatred and anger of her and her kind. The skin on my face tightened slightly, not enough to allow them to see the changes but enough to make itself felt.

  The look of disappointment on the achingly beautiful features of the vampiress almost felt like a stab to the heart but I couldn't help but give her a grin that was partly a snarl of rage.

  "Of course neither of you have anything resembling manners." Just as she was going to continue she paused in mid breath, turning her head and staring at the skull that sat on its cushion. Following her gaze, I could see the blackened bones and the lengthy incisors that stabbed into the expensive fabric of the cushion and knew all too well who's skull it once was. The last I had seen it; it had been nailed to the castle's gatehouse after I had handed it in for its bounty. Cracked and gaping, the hole between the eyes had been filled with the gleaming crystal of what could only be a black soul gem.

  For a moment she stared at the skull and its morbid jewellery, almost appearing as though she was listening to a voice that only she could hear before turning and looking at me with what could only have been surprise. "So you are the one responsible for poor old Volmyr..." the voice returned to the strange mesmeric tone that seemed to seep into my pores. "You don't look like it."

  Leaning forward very slightly she sniffed the air like a cat seeking a skeever, tasting the air and grimacing at it. "But you certainly smell like it. I never thought I would encounter a vampire who permanently stinks as though he fell in a sulphur pit."

  There were several snuffles from behind us as the nearest vampires tried to understand and detect what their mistress had, but judging by their reactions none of them understood or managed to detect the scent of daedra that permeated my flesh. My eyes however were locked into the darkened sockets of Lord Volmyr's skull that she had claimed as a trophy. The soul gem glinted, and I somehow knew that she had managed to somehow resurrect Volmyr in such a way that had allowed her to trap his soul within the depths of the gem. In the dim light of the hall I could almost hear the tortured screams and feel the burning hatred emanating from the black gem and the entrapped vampiric soul within.

  The creatures around me could tell that I was one of their kind, but none bar their Matriarch were able to discern the differences between us. To the ancient seated in front of us she knew I was different but was unable to determine exactly how. What she knew without a doubt was that I was dangerous.

  With a click of her black stained fingers, a handful of her servants shuffled forward, each holding out the various weapons that they had taken from us. She barely spared a glance for our swords, but as the emerald-green inlaid scabbard of the Light of Dawn was offered up to her she visibly wilted from it and turned away.

  "Such a loathsome thing." she muttered, waving the armoured vampire holding the priceless artefact away. He quickly moved behind her so that the sight of Maegalla's blade wouldn't offend her sight, but I watched him every step of the way. "Pity it has proven impossible to destroy or corrupt. Many of our brethren have tried and failed over the centuries to dispose of that accursed blade. Maybe with time I can find a way to succeed."

  The expression from the gorgeous creature returned to me and the burning eyes bored holes into my soul. "I am curious to discover just how you have managed to not only withstand that blade's enchantments, but also invade my home during the day. I doubt that even Harkon could withstand the energies contained within that thing, and not even Lamae's gets are daywalkers." She paused, sniffing again and grimacing. "You are far too young and are far too unclean to be a pureblood, but you will be of some use at least."

  "You'll be dead before you learn anything, bitch." I snapped. "Either by my hand or the Legion, your ashes will be ground into the dirt."

  The look of disapproval grew darker and she sighed as though listening to a school pupil make a mistake for the umpteenth time. "That's enough from you I think." The tiniest of gestures constricted my throat and mouth again and I couldn't even groan my hatred. "Me and mine no longer fear the Legion. The Empire used to crush our kind, ensuring that we remained in the shadows and burning us from our homes. Under Uriel it was unstoppable, but without the Septims the Legion is nothing more than a paper dragon."

  Somehow my frozen expression conveyed my amused disbelief at her words and she smiled. "The 2nd Legion has what? Less than five hundred within a week's march of Glenvar? It might be useful for scattering bandits and patrolling the roads but if they come to threaten my home then they will be sorely disappointed. How do you think the legionaries will fare against fifty vampires in the middle of the night? Or better still, a horde of werewolves?"

  Her laugher made my flesh crawl in disgust and painful arousal. Somehow every melodic word was entering my mind and driving my desires to untold heights. The unnatural nature of the attraction I had for her was more than just physical. The man within my mind wanted nothing more to pull her into my arms and ravish her, the beast only desired the magical potency of her blood and the taste of her flesh in my mouth. Despite that, the stirrings of my vampiric side was slowly building mental barriers against her infernal aura.

  "I have over a hundred cattle within the castle, and the next full moon is less than four days away. It will cost me most of my blood-stock but there are always more mortals to be had. Especially when the only military force within a fortnight's travel has been left feeding maggots and worms."

  My eyes wandered over the hunched and almost naked forms of the men and women standing at her back. The five of them were lost in the depths of their own minds, staring blankly into nothing and twitching uncontrollably. I knew all too well what these people represented, especially how one of the men was missing a hand, and the woman lacking an arm from below the bicep. Gleaming crystals were lodged in the flesh of their chests like some kind of horrific jewellery, allowing the vampire Matriarch and her pet wizard to effectively control the uncontrollable.

  The smile grew larger as she realised where my sight was lingering, the barest hint of a four centimetre fang appearing from behind a perfectly curved lip. "Unfortunately I am lacking crystals, but I think that a hundred wolves will be more than a match for five hundred of Cyrodiil's best."

  Unable to move a muscle I still felt the chill course through me at the thought of such slaughter. It was somehow worse than the way how Viconia and I were trapped at her mercy.

  "You my dear are positively delectable." Leaning forward, the ancient vampire queen breathed in heavily, shuddering with pleasure at the scent of Viconia's blood. It was a smell that I knew all too well. The merest hints of it was enough to drive a terrible burning passion in the corrupted portions of my soul when we laid together. "So beautiful. So cold. The frozen north of Altmora has nothing on your soul."

  Viconia, despite her ability to speak said nothing, choosing to instead glare with such force that the vampire actually turned her own gaze away. The smattering hints of witch light glimmered like sun across the surface of a pond in the yellowed depths of her eyes, until the Matriarch made a gesture and snuffed the power.

  "That is unexpected." She muttered, tilting her head and meeting Viconia's gaze now that the power that she had attempted to call upon was no more. "You both are just full of surprises. Here I was, believing that you were following this brute for protection. It appears that you are in no need for a man's protection, certainly not this one's in any case. What is he to you? A beast of burden perhaps? A servile cur? Or maybe attack dog."

  Still, Viconia remained silent and merely stared the vampire down, refusing to even open her mouth or do anything more than scowl with enough force that some of the others standing at the Matriarch's back looked elsewhere. The elegant creature however glanced between the two of us, realisation slowly dawning on her immature features.

  "Ah. I see. Love." Again the chattering laugher echoed from the coven, vampire and mortal alike. "Such a pitiful waste of an emotion, and one far beneath a being of your obvious breeding. You would give your heart and soul for a lowly animal such as this? An uncultured ill-bred fiend?"

  "Alu vith dosstan xuil natha killian..." Viconia spat, "That fiend is likely to rip your heart out. If I don't get to you first..."

  "I doubt that very much." The tone suddenly turned serious and despite the cold edge to her voice I couldn't help but imagine how she would sound groaning with pleasure. That thought alone when it reached my conscious mind seemed to only make my vampiric side grow stronger at the obvious assault on my control. "He will be very much dead in the days to come. As for you? I think I have some far more suitable in mind than being studied by vivisection."

  "You would make a perfect vampire." She said simply, snapping her fingers and motioning for a servant to step forward. The obviously mortal individual carried little more than a platter with a handful of goblets on the surface, the silver of the items ensuring that none of the creatures present could bare the touch.

  "I don't know whether your lover has told you what it is like to be turned." A delicate arm was lifted and stretched outwards and a second servant stepped forward. The tiny dagger, too small to be of any use other than cracking wax seals on letters was held in a hand steadied from considerable experience. With the utmost precision the tip bit deep into a pale wrist. "I was turned lifetimes ago but I can still remember the way my body writhed under the changes. An intensely painful pleasure as the blood-gift of our lord spread through every vein, every artery and began to change me. It seeps through you, sinking into your muscles and organs and only when it has you entirely in your grip do you finally die and are reborn as something greater."

  The upturned wrist was angled slightly and the pointed blade had cut precisely into the artery, digging through the flesh with a surgeon's skill and allowing the pulsating liquid to dribble into a goblet. I couldn't help but remember the sensation of my first feeding, and the weeks of slow, inexorable corruption as the infection slowly seeped into my flesh. The tiny amount of blood that had entered my veins through the scratches on my arm had been enough to corrode the man that I had once been. I knew that most vampiric infections usually lasted two or three days at the most, but my unusual situation had dragged the process out over weeks and kept most of the symptoms hidden and undetectable.

  Several mouthfuls of the Matriarch's blood dripped into the goblet, and despite myself I could almost taste the raw power that it contained. There was no doubt in any of our minds what it represented. The equivalent of a few drops of vampiric blood had been enough to damn me over several weeks and the amount within the silver etched goblet was enough to ensure that Viconia would be turned in a matter of minutes, if not less.

  A flash of light caught my attention and with a merest gesture the Matriarch healed the wound without a scar to show for it. Both of her fangs were visible now in a smile that was entirely that of a nocturnal predator, especially as she motioned for Viconia to take the offered goblet from the bowing form of her servant.

  There was obviously not the slightest hint of movement from my Drow companion despite the lessening of the paralytic magicka from the hedge wizard. If anything she appeared even more like a statue, not moving other than to continue showing her burning hatred for the creatures around us.

  "I should have expected as much." The Matriarch cooed. "You will drink, and you will turn. But for your insolence your lover will watch."

  A single finger flicked across as though she was turning a page in a book and my head snapped over to the left, twisting despite my attempts of resistance. Between the wizard and the Matriarch there was little I could do but was not going to simply let Viconia suffer my fate without a fight.

  The pressure in the back of my mind increased as the wizard lent his strength to the Matriarch, and despite only being able to see him from the corner of my eye I could tell that he was feeling the strain. The resistance that we were both offering was enough to leave beads of perspiration lining his face which gave me strength, and the stirrings of insanity.

  "Never will anyone say that I am without mercy." The presence of the Matriarch left my skin crawling as she leaned in close enough to whisper in my ear. The pressure in my mind built even further, and all the incense in the world could not mask the death-stink of her flesh. Cold and clammy, the moist sensation of her tongue sliding up my neck would have left me shuddering if I had any control over my body. "Make your last words count, pet."

  My eyes met Viconia's as the vampire's will twisted her in place to face me. The goblet of blood sat daintily in hand as though she was attending a noble's ball, but the yellowed eyes were overwhelmed in fear. It was the only time I had truly seen Viconia terrified despite the mask of hatred and loathing that clad her flesh.

  At that moment I made a decision.

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