As a rule Isran didn’t walk. He physically couldn’t and not as a result of an injury that had rendered him crippled. He stalked or prowled, and those times where he moved at what others would consider a ‘typical’ pace, it was because he was taking the time to be more aware of his surroundings. Walking for him was merely the motions that his body underwent as he moved from A, to B. Anything else was merely a waste of time and effort.

  For the moment though, he was indeed walking, keeping pace with a pair of his subordinates as they moved through the depths of the fortress. It was a habit that they all had gained in the past weeks, where sitting still for any period of time, even for daily briefings and orders, made them exceptionally restless. There was an air about the Fortress that had been around for some time, a sense of tension that had only increased further in the past weeks. Having a vampire, even one such as Kaius the Dovahkiin present and living within the fortress, was enough to leave people on edge, let alone having another one who was somehow far, far older and more threatening.

  “No reports of unusual activity during the night. The fortress remained secure and unbreached.” Celann said simply as he walked alongside Isran, a handful of paper and vellum sheets in his hands from the various messages and mail that the Dawnguard was now receiving on a daily basis. “Kaius… Sorry, the ‘vampire,’ didn't seem to test the defenses last night. At least, as far as we have been able to determine.”

  Any other time, the source of the scowl on Isran’s face would have been in habitual one, but the darkness this time was less of Celann’s slip up and calling Kaius by his name, and more from the memory of one of the more recent ‘incidents.’ Kaius and his two female companions had spent the winter with the Dawnguard, and had been living in the fortress for almost three months now. For that entire time, Isran had failed to have a single good night’s rest, especially as Kaius continued his relentless training and exposure of what it meant to face a vampire. On some evenings he would purposely let himself be locked outside s only to test means of entry and infiltration into Fortress Dawnguard. So far, all attempts to stop him had been unsuccessful, despite the considerable amount of changes and improvements they had made to the fortress’s defences.

  One such failed attempt had failed after Kaius had proceeded to mark the throats of several Dawnguard with a stick of charcoal, ‘murdering’ them and others within the fortress after he gained entry. Then, just to truly hammer home the lesson, Isran found the vampiric Dragonborn napping in his personal quarters when he went to retire for the night. No one within the fortress had particularly slept soundly after that event, and the various punishments handed out would ensure that such lapses in security wouldn’t occur again.

  “Where is the suckhead now?”

  “The usual place. In the training halls. He’s uh… ‘breaking in’ the new arrivals.” The flush that had appeared on Celann’s face had grown from Isran’s darkening mood. “We also received word this morning from Ingjard. She and her team successfully dealt with the vampires at Shor’s Stone last week. Three bloodsuckers and four thralls. No casualties on our side.”

  “Hmph.”

  “I know you don’t like hearing it, Isran.” Rumbled Durak, the orsimer sub commander of the Order. “But the training has been exceptionally effective. The new recruits are being immunised of their fear of vampires before they even meet hostile ones. It won’t be much longer until we will be able to properly take the fight to them.”

  “I know.” This was the truth, as much as Isran hated that the effectiveness of the Dawnguard was as a result of a vampire’s actions. Fear of the horrors that dwelled in the shadows and beyond the Liminal Barriers was responsible for more deaths than the claws, fangs and weapons of the daedra and undead. In fact, it was directly responsible for the majority of deaths within the various orders that combated them, resulting in three quarters of fresh initiates dying on their first mission, and had also been the reason why so many of the new Dawnguard had failed. Kaius’s teachings, and methods were removing that fear, allowing brand new recruits to face down vampires while armed with the knowledge on how best to combat them.

  “Any indications of malign influence?” He said after a few moments of thought.

  “None at all. All double-blind investigations have revealed zero vampiric enthrallment, magical manipulation, mind control, or binding rituals. If anything, he and the others are still going out of their way to ensure that no one mingles or gets too friendly with him, or his companions. I don’t just mean the sleeping arrangements either. They don’t fraternise at all with anyone in the Dawnguard outside of the training.”

  “Except for Sofia, of course.”

  For a moment Celann flushed, refusing to meet Isran’s gaze. Kaius and his companions had made a home for themselves in one of the more abandoned wings away from the main living quarters, and for the most part they had kept to themselves. Lydia especially spent most of her time training either the initiates or herself, and didn’t interact much with her other companions and Kaius was similar. However their younger companion was increasingly a sizable thorn in Isran’s side. She had a habit of finding and acquiring alcohol no matter how well it was hidden or secured, and even while intoxicated she was very capable of sneaking wherever, and stealing whatever she wished. What was worse was the way that she had a habit of drawing some of the younger men into her orbit on a semi-regular occasion, which if it wasn’t for the fact that Isran had personally confirmed her lack of enthrallment would have been a considerable security issue.

  In fact, it was one of the several things that truly unsettled him regarding Kaius. When they had first met, he had naturally assumed that Sofia and Lydia were thralls, and rightfully so, as who would be insane enough to willingly follow a vampire? Despite this, and every test, investigation, and technique he could think of and use, confirmed they were acting entirely in their own free will. Lydia’s attitude was borderline hostile to Kaius at the best of times, and Sofia? Well, even in his vast experience, Isran had never encountered a thrall who would act the way she did, especially not in her carefree nature and habits of either pulling pranks on Kaius, or refusing to do some of the things he asked of her on occasions. Thralls were obedient slaves who could no longer think for themselves, up to the point of starving to death if they were not consistently commanded to eat. Neither of the women were anywhere remotely enthralled, which bothered him immensely.

  “I still don’t trust them. Keep the investigations ongoing, and rotate through to fresh members for the next round of investigations. We can’t afford to let them play whatever long game they are intending with us.”

  “Trust isn’t going to be needed with all this, Isran.” His orcish subordinate replied. “I think they are proving that they don’t want our trust and that Kaius is being honest in his dealings with us. Whichever way, they are all valuable assets to the Dawnguard.”

  “Maybe, but the moment they lose their usefulness we shall deal with them. There has to be an ulterior motive for what they seek to achieve with us. Speaking of which, how is our… ‘guest?’”

  “Unchanged. The vampiress remains confined to the fortress interior and eastern ramparts, but it seems she prefers to remain close to, or within her cell. I don’t know what you were thinking of giving her free reign of the place though.”

  “I was hoping she and the other suckhead would try to do something... Anything, to give us more of an indicator of what they intend.” Anyone else would have sighed, or growled or otherwise shown signs of their annoyance at the situation. Especially how despite over the two months since her arrival, Serana had almost been the perfect prisoner. “Stendarr only knows how long they wish to play this game of theirs.”

  “I had uh… a ‘chat’ with Sorine yesterday about the Volkihar.”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, you know how Sorine is when you try to get information out of her. You either get nothing, or you get everything…” Fumbling for a moment, Celann rummaged through the handful of sheets, looking over the scribblings and writings until he found the one he sought. “She did a little digging into our guest and her family. A lot of the histories have all turned into myth and the like, but the Volkihar were indeed the rulers of Haarngard Hold in the centuries after Ysgrammor first conquered the region. They were here before Skyrim was even considered a kingdom, predating the Alessian Empire by a couple of centuries. In fact, Sorine mentioned that the way that Serana is acting is almost certainly as a result of her upbringing.”

  “A suckhead acting all meek and compliant?”

  “Well… I wouldn’t call her meek. Serana has a tongue on her that could strip paint off the walls when she’s annoyed.” Ignoring, or otherwise oblivious to the way that Isran’s expression had deepened even more at the way Celann was referring to the vampire by name, he continued fumbling until he found the sheet of paper covered with a considerable amount of barely decipherable writings. “Here it is. The uh… bits I can decipher at least, confirm the information we have gained from our interrogations of the two vampires are accurate. Serana was likely born sometime around two hundred years before the start of the First Era and locked into Dimhollow five hundred years later. She’s spent over three thousand years locked away and honestly, the only intelligence value she has been able to provide is from the past six months. Which is limited.”

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  “Limited?”

  “Yeah. She knows nothing useful to us, especially with how she spent those months on the run and hiding from her father’s minions. She barely even knows the areas or towns or anything about Skyrim, at least nothing that isn’t thousands of years out of date. The same goes for potential vampire locations. The scout report we received from Vori and her team says that the fort we sent them to check doesn’t even have two bricks stacked on top of each other anymore. They think it was probably a Volkihar base of operations, but probably not for the past two Era’s at least.”

  “So is the suckhead useless, or is it simply trying to play us for fools?”

  “I think she’s been surprisingly open and honest, Isran. Sorine agrees.” Neither Celann or Durak had picked up on the fact that Isran was testing them at the moment, as he did with every facet of the Dawnguard and those that he commanded. “There is a lot of bad blood in her family, both figuratively and literally speaking, which we have seen numerous times before with vampire clans and bloodlines. Granted, we have never even heard of, let alone dealt with living Children of Coldharbour before, so the dynamic is a bit different, but nevertheless, all the indications are there. The Volkihar have certainly been around long enough for dozens, if not hundreds of schisms to have occurred, and Serana and her… ‘mother’ might have been the first to do so. She’s exactly what you and Kaius said last week though. She’s an asset, and bait. I’ll tell you one thing I know for certain; we’ll never have bait acting as politely and calmly as what we have at the moment. Stendarr’s mercy, I’ve had more problems from little old women on the street, than with Serana.”

  “Hmmm... Fine. Her privileges will remain extant for the time being. If she attempts anything we can always confine her in her cell.” For a moment Isran paused, feeling the annoyance growing for a moment before he crushed it. If only dealing with Kaius was as easy. So far he had eighteen failed attempts to deal with the vampiric Dovahkiin and they were becoming a normal routine for all those in the fortress. Even with the unnatural immunity to sunlight, he could counter Kaius’s vampirism easily enough. He could even deal with the thu’um just as easily. What he hadn’t managed, was finding a means that could counter both at the same time.

  “Although, locking her in her cell probably isn’t going to be as much of a punishment as what we think either. I’ve been giving it a bit of thought, and while the restrictions of privileges like her access to the rampants and the books would be effective, merely locking her away I don’t think would do a damned thing.”

  “Explain.”

  “Well, she’s the daughter of ancient Nordic, perhaps even Nedic rulers from the time when Skyrim was a collection of kingdoms. She’s an actual, bonafide, vampiric princess. Being locked away all the time is probably normal for her. You know what I mean?”

  “My daughters would be what you called princesses of the stronghold, but as soon as they were old enough to pick up a weapon they left to found or claim strongholds of their own.” Durak shrugged, looking between Celann and Isran. “Five of them I know of, did just that.”

  “The Nords and the Nedes were a little different.” Celann chuckled. “Some of the Imperial counties still have similar customs in the south. Basically, female heirs were kept locked away, and… ‘safe’ until they came of age and were treated as diplomatic bargaining chips for treaties and such with neighbouring kingdoms and counties. Kings and Counts wouldn’t want to marry off their sons to a… princess who is ‘impure’ or had been ‘spoiled’ after all. Sorine and I both agree that the times where Serana wasn’t locked away in Dimhollow, she was probably locked away in Castle Volkihar. These past months are probably the first time that she has travelled alone in her entire life.”

  “Are we meant to feel sorry for her?” Growled Isran.

  “Would you ever feel sorry for anyone?” Ignoring the way Isran stared at him, Celann smiled and shrugged. “You tasked me with finding out more about her, and possible ways to manipulate or influence her, and I’m providing you one. Locking her away will probably feel comfortable for her, giving her the opportunity to roam, with or without an armed escort is likely either disconcerting, or could also be what she is used to. I don’t think that we will have any ‘unusual’ trouble from her. Wish I could say the same about the damned thing she brought with her.”

  “Where was it this time?”

  “Gunmar’s smithy. Sitting right on top of his anvil as he was silver-plating the latest batch of swords. Apparently it scared the shit out of him when he turned around mid-forging to find it there. To be perfectly honest with you Isran, having the Elder Scroll here is worse for morale, than having a pair of vampires roaming about. Vampires we can deal with, but we can’t even lock the fucking scroll away without it somehow getting out.”

  All three of them sighed, Isran imperceptibly so, but he knew Celann was right. The Elder Scroll was by far the most difficult… ‘prisoner’ they had. No matter the preparations, designs, locations and security they afforded and attempted to contain it with, the Scroll seemed to have a mind of its own. At first it was innocuous, daily checks discovering that it had somehow rotated or shifted within the reinforced steel chest it had been locked inside, but after the second week, stranger things started to occur. One morning they found it sitting on top of its still closed, locked, and secured chest despite no one interacting with it through the night.

  Changing locks, adding chains, magical wards, enchanted runes, and even having guards physically inside the room watching it the whole time weren’t enough to keep it in one place. In the past weeks it had started appearing elsewhere in the fortress; on tables, in the barracks, one time resting on Isran’s pillow as though waiting for him. No one had any theories as to the how’s and why’s, but one of the only reasons why it remained in Fort Dawnguard was that the passes south into Cyrodiil were still closed with winter snow. That, and that it was just as disconcerting to Kaius, as it was to the Dawnguard. Anything that made Kaius uneasy was something that endeared itself to Isran, although the fact that he and Kaius agreed that it was almost as though the Scroll was attempting to find someone dumb enough to unfurl and attempt to read it was disconcerting.

  A shriek of pure, unbridled terror, followed by a roar that they could feel in their stomachs echoed down the vacant halls, but neither Isran, Durak or Celann flinched or reacted in the slightest. The morning’s lesson appeared to be going well in the training halls as Kaius once more continued his efforts in desensitising and exposing the order’s future hunters in what it was like to face a vampire in the flesh. A cackling laugh, softer but still slightly audible, followed shortly after as Sofia amused herself at the expense of whichever hapless recruit learning a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget.

  “Unless someone comes up with an alternative I don’t think that we can do anything more than play hide and seek with the Scroll. I have a feeling that even if we threw it into the spring that it would probably reappear somehow. As soon as the winter snows melt, it’s on the first caravan south to Cyrodiil and the sooner it's with the Elder Moth Temple, the better.” Stopping in place, listening for a moment as the sounds of continued fighting and training grew in volume from the training hall, Isran looked between his comrades, giving them a tiny nod that barely existed. “Anything else to report?”

  “No Isran.”

  “Okay. Well, the supplies for the gatehouse restoration should be arriving in the next day or two from Riften, and we might finally be able to have a proper, securable entrance by the end of the week. Let Sorine know we will need her expertise in supervising the repairs. I’ll tell the suckhead we’ll need his strength too, and get some more use out of him.”

  “Easily done. We’ll come find you at dinner. Maybe Ollrod will have managed to whip up a roast boar again like last time.”

  Watching Durak and Celann leave for their other duties, Isran thought to himself for a moment before continuing on. The Dawnguard were established, growing, and despite everything becoming increasingly capable. When the winter snows began to melt there would be many who would be ready to venture out to take the fight to the Volkihar and their allies, and while there were still a great many things to be concerned about, for the first time in months Isran could feel a sliver of confidence grow within his chest. Two years ago he had been alone, living within the abandoned fortress like a rat in its nest and barely being able to keep himself fed. Now, the Dawnguard were a legitimate organisation, over a hundred strong, and increasingly capable in their duties. When he first came to the fortress he had thought he would have to face the threat alone, but instead several old comrades from the daedra hunters of the Vigilants of Stendarr had since come to fight by his side.

  Durak and Celann were among the first who had come to help their old friend and mentor, and so had Gunmar Bear-Breaker and Sorine Jurand. All of them were veterans in the never ending war against the daedra and brought their own skills and expertise with them. Durak was one of their strongest and most experienced hunters, second only to Isran. Celann was the most well versed in magicka, intelligence and information gathering, and as for Gunmar and Sorine, they were equally invaluable. Gunmar was a master smith and animal trainer, and Sorine was a highly experienced, if somewhat unstable and unpredictable engineer and tinkerer.

  The five of them had all served in the vigilants, and all had either left or had been kicked out for one reason or another. Durak quit after the loss of two of his wives to vampires and was more than willing to join with Isran’s drive to purge the undead from Skyrim. Celann had left before he could be kicked out after considerable controversy involving the Count of Skingrad, but Isran, Gunmar and Sorine had been kicked out. No one within the Daedra Hunting Order had ever appreciated Isran’s ‘opinions’ that Vampires were a greater threat and that their priorities were all wrong, and they certainly didn’t appreciate Gunmar’s and Sorine’s efforts. Between Gunmar’s predilection of acquiring and attempting to train certain types of animals, and Sorine’s inclination for experimentation with all things mechanical, they had both caused the Vigilants significant issues before they were forced out.

  But, the Vigilants in Skyrim were no more, among the first casualties in this new rising tide of vampires, and only those who had left or had been kicked out had survived. If he was capable of feeling such an emotion, Isran was happy to have Sorine’s mechanical contraptions and devices, Durak's strength and determination, Celann’s mind, and Gunmar and his pets. Well… most of Gunmar’s pets at least, for what was to come. They were the perfect people to lead the Dawnguard in these dark days, even if they were the sorts of people to transform a shack into a crater with a failed experiment, instigate one of the largest scandals in Cyrodiil in four decades, and attempt to weaponise a Kwama colony.

  However, with the Dawnguard increasingly ready for the coming conflict, a question was niggling away at him, like a pebble in a glove.

  What were the Volkihar going to do next…