Private A Deadly Hideaway

[Rekamennos]

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THIS ROLEPLAY IS RATED SEMI-MATURE​

FOR THE OCCASIONAL SPEAK OF NUDITY, VIOLENCE, AND GORE​

IT WIL NOT BREAK THE RULES.​

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In the midst of a Civil War, after the fabled Dragonborn took care of the Alduin threat, vampires and werewolves arise as once again as Skyrim's largest deadly problem. Vampires, sucking on the blood of the innocent, and Werewolves; destroying the lives of the innocent. The two dangerous creatures are arch enemies, and have always been in a constant war against one another for dominance over the province. To show who truly is deadlier. But there is one place, where both werewolves and vampires, can get along. A place of neutral territory. A place they call a sanctuary when chaos in the lives of their prey is too much of a burden to be had, and that, is a deadly hideaway.​

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CAST:​

Rekamennos: Vilvenus Verenim (female vampire)​

& Desiree Radulphe (female werewolf)​

Ashleigh: Aura (female vampire)​

The_Madgod: Conquers-Many-Foes (male vampire)​

Meben15: Saren (male werewolf)​

Mr-Wiki-96: Wayn (male werewolf)​

Duon: Fenris (male werewolf)​

Andante: Hana (female werewolf)​

Dunklunk: Dmitry (male vampire)​

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OOC - A Deadly Hideaway | Skyrim Forums​

^^ OOC Thread​

 

[Rekamennos]

"So what is this place?" Vil asked, looking over to her lover with her ruby eyes, Desiree, whom smiled, while holding her porcelain, tiny, boney-fingered hand as she pulled her through a long underground tunnel with dead vines hanging from the ceiling.

"Good things come to those who wait, sweetheart," Desiree looked back to her with a wink. She then yanked Vil on forward as she flipped her head back around long blonde locks flailing about and focused on the path ahead of her. Soon they came upon a light in the darkness, having brought no torches, which for being creatures of the night it was completely unneeded. Desiree stopped at the opening looking up. Her ice blue eyes landed upon a large opening in this mysterious underground cave. The cave was vastly enormous, and it seemed tower upward until there was a small opening at the top that let in the full moon and night sky. Trees could be seen, also, through the opening, indicating they were hidden deep within the wilds of Skyrim. The cave itself was like a miniature forest covering it from top to bottom. There was no way to reach the top where the moon let it, because the walls were flat. Thick in forestry, grasses, and shrubbery; amongst all of it laid a beautiful large lake with an echoing waterfall.

"Oh my, Des, this is beautiful. What are we going to do with such a place like this? How did you find this? It's so perfectly untouched...how could anyone not know of it?" Vil pulled closer to her lover, wrapping her arms around her neck and kissing her on the lips. Desiree looked deep into Vil's entrancing vampiric eyes as she let on a toothy wolven smile. "We will call this place our home, somewhere we can safely be together free from the opposition of our kind on the surface. Somewhere all of our kind, anywhere, can come and walk amongst each other in peace...that is if they are like us." Desiree kissed her much more heavily afterwards, reaching her arms down, and then Vil jumped into her arms. She and Vil walked into their new secret paradise, eyes closed, and stumbling until they were rolling around on the ground making out.

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(SEVERAL MONTHS LATER: THE "DEADLY HIDEAWAY " FULLY ESTABLISHED AS NEUTRAL TERRITORY: SETTING IN FALKREATH: THE DEAD MAN'S DRINK)

"Hey...I can smell it on your skin..." Vil came up behind a Nord man, who was pale and red eyed just like she was. She had her arms seductively wrapped around his shoulders, as she stood from behind, and her lips close to his ears as though she were going to lick them. "Don't worry baby, I can keep a secret, after all, I share the same one."

The Nord man was tense under her abrupt touch out of nowhere, but by her second comment, she could feel his stiff muscles relaxing. He grabbed her hand up in his, to which she offered happily, and then he spun himself around in his chair meeting his red eyes to her ruby ones. She winked, and then released his hand as she jerked her head sideways as if to say follow her. The man watched her walk, her sexy tight frame moving back and forth rocking as she swayed. He instantly followed after her, lovestruck and hoping to get some, but she brought him back to Desiree to which made him stop abruptly as he watched her sit down with the werewolf lover of hers. Desiree came in close to Vil, in the back of the packed inn, no one was paying attention to anything they were doing. This evening they had a famous traveling bard, so the place was packed with villagers who were clapping, drinking and laughing, and dancing the heated inn up with a storm. It was so packed that people coming in through the door were having a hard time just maneuvering themselves around the area to find a drink and enjoy the music.

"Why did you lead me to one of them?!" The Nord man snapped, tightening his fists as his red eyes flared. He kept his mouth shut not to alert the normal people around them. Desiree had Vil pulled close as she was kissing up and down her neck, eyeing the man as his angered demeanor was slightly softened by sexual arousal. He still didn't look happy.

"You ever hear of the Deadly Hideaway?" She asked, letting out soft sighs as Desiree showered her neck, and her eyes slowly rolled back over to the man sparkling in the orange light of the fire. Her voice was so soft it was barely audible over the active crowd.

"No. Why?" He asked, starting to lose focus on what anger he had for Desiree being a werewolf as she began to run her hands all over Vil's body. It was appropriate, however, for the obvious conditions they were in. Just enough, though, to peak his interest. The man bit his lip and Vil smiled knowing she had him caught where she wanted him to be.

"It's a safe haven. For our kind and her kind. If you can keep your mouth shut, and your hands to yourself, well, if it's meant in a harmful way..." Vil trailed off pulling Desiree off her neck and licking her tongue across her lips before turning back to the man "...then we could show you, if you wanted..." Vil bit her lip playfully with a wink as she watched the man. She shook back her long past shoulder length jet black hair. The Nord man had his mouth dropped and Vil looked down to his legs with a smile and a giggle. "So what do you say?"

"I'm in. I just have to be nice, right?" He asked, his entire demeanor changing.

"Yes." Vil smiled with a nod as Desiree squealed excited and clapping. Desiree chimed in, "Yay! Yet another comes to find peace and love in the depths of the Hideaway!" Vil grinned and kissed her lover on the cheek while standing up and grabbing her hand. She waved to the Nord man to follow as she and Desiree took the lead heading out of the Dead Man's Drink not even once being noticed by the others. They showed him all the way back to the Deadly Hideaway where he has come back several times finding comfort in this peace.

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(PRESENT DAY: THREE MONTHS LATER AND FURTHER SUCCESS OF THEIR SECRET SAFE HAVEN: THE DEAD MAN'S DRINK)

"Peace, fire, passion? What more could one want? Well, and maybe a bag of tobacco and a pipe..." Vil took in a deep inhale of luxurious Eslweyran tobacco that had a touch of moon sugar mixed in. She held the breath, for a moment, and then released make 'O's' with her mouth. Desiree shook her head and laughed as Vil played with the smoke upon her lips. She focused on her lips a moment, biting her own, and wishing she could kiss them. She then thought about Vil's words as she shuffled a deck of cards.

Desiree cut the deck in two, mixed them, and then passed a few out between her and Vil. She held hers up, and examined what she had to offer. She then was taken away from the attention to her cards as the tavern wench came forward and offered them both a bottle of Black Briar mead. Vil looked the wench up and down, licking her pale porcelain lips, and winking as she saw the girl blush as she walked away. She sat her deck down and looked Desiree deep into the eyes. "We have three werewolves over in the corner locking us death stares because they know we aren't amongst our right kind. Stupid surface dwellers and their ignorance." She was in a hushed tone so that only Desiree could hear.

Desiree shrugged. "Let them be. If they come over, we know how to take care of it as we always have. They won't resist, and why should they? No one else has."

Vil bit her lip as she looked her sexy lover up and down. "I like your thinking gorgeous." She winked.

Desiree winked right back and then slapped a card down on the table. She smiled, "Your turn."

Vil looked down and frowned. "But how am I supposed to move after that?"

Desiree shrugged with a soft laugh, "I don't know I don't make the rules I just follow them."

Both girls had gazes locked into one another's eyes as they smile wide flashing their brilliant pearly whites. Vil sighed admirably and said, "You know you are so beautiful..." She extended her hand and then continued, "I am so happy I found you."

Desiree's eyes sparkled as she dropped her deck, Vil took a side glance to see what she had as Desiree fixated her hands with Vil's. Vil kept an endearing look into her eyes. "I am happy I found you, too, you cheater!" Desiree grinned having witnessed Vil the entire time.

"Damnit! Well, I can't win anyway, you gave me a plopsty deal." The girls both laughed.

"So what are we going to do about them?" Vil asked moving her eyes back and forth between teh glares and her lover.

Desiree squeezed her hand, came up over the table and planted a kiss tenderly upon her lips knowing it would outrage the males across the room. She held a tender lock into Vil's eyes. "Just. That." She winked "And now we wait and see what happens!" Vil watched her return to her seat on the bench opposite their card table, puffing out more smoke from her pipe, and then biting her lip. She couldn't disagree with Desiree they had been at this game for too long.

 

[meben15]

Saren walked down the silent road through the forests north of Falkreath. His hard but wild features were hidden by a black cowl, but any who passed could see his deadly silver eyes glinting in the moonlight. Luckily there was no one around, and Saren prefered it that way.

The Imperial werewolf was not up to anything much this night, in fact he was very bored. Saren had not done much of late, he had taken up residence in a cave a few miles north of the town of Falkreath and had simply hunted his prey from that lair fo a while. Most of the things he had killed were simply deer and foxes, but he thought there may have been a Bosmer thief in there somewhere. After the several weeks of dull sameness Saren felt he needed to spice things up a bit. He never enjoyed staying in the same place for long, time to move on.

Were he was going, Saren had no idea, but he never did. The wild man had always believed that if he walked the whims and wills of the wilds would send him where he needed to go. At present, this didn't seem to be working fast enough. Saren sighed and looked down at his legs. They were so inefficient, it would be much faster to transform and simply run off in some random direction. He did that sometimes, but for some reason Saren felt he shouldn't tonight.

The werewolf's walk was interrupted very suddenly and violently. An arrow flew out of no-where to hit Sarin in the shoulder. Letting out a snarl of pain and surprise he grasped the projectiles shaft and ripped it out of his body. From the stinging paint the arrowhead had caused as it had entered his fleash he knew it to be silver. Then four men moved out onto the road, one with a bow and a second arrow already nocked.

Saren looked at their weapons as well as the arrow in his hands and saw they were silver. These were no ordinary bandits. He glared coldly at the group of men, "Why do you attack me in such a way highwaymen! I have done nothing to harm you!"

the bowman responded to him with a cruel laugh, "Oh, that doesn't matter to us! All we want is your pelt werewolf. And perhaps your head to mount over my hearth. You do look like a big one!"

Saren continued to glare at the men, a feral growl rising in his throat, "You are pushing your luck little men. If you leave me be now I may spare you, continue and fight me and you will die."

The bowman laughed at his threat, "We outnumber him men, he cannot beat us! Charge!" With that the three warriors ran towards Saren, swords and axes raised high. Before the first man could even bring his sword down to attack Saren sprung forward with the speed of a viper, punching the man in the face with his spiked metal gauntlets. The monster hunters frail bones crumpled under Saren's supernatural strength and the first man fell to his attack, dead.

Then the other two swung their axes at him and Saren went on the defensive. He lifted his arms toe deflect the incoming strikes, and he succeeded, his armored arms easily turning aside the attacks. Before the two warriors had the chance to counteract his parries Saren drew one of his short swords and swung it in a quick, powerful arc towards the nearer of his two enemies. The man could not get up his weapon in time to block the strike, and the deadly blade smashed into his head, splitting his skull and spurting blood everywhere.

The smell of blood excited Saren and he whirled to face the final melee combatant with a wicked gleam in his eyes. The two warriors faced off from each other for a second, but then Saren's concentration broke as a silver arrow shot by the bowman hit him in the stomach. Luckily the arrow didn't penetrate his armor completely, but it was enough to cut deeply into the werewolf's skin, and this made him mad.

With a feral howl Saren transformed, dropping his blade as he shifted into a hulking black man/wolf. With one swipe of his mighty claws he beat aside the monster hunters shield and eviscerated him with his deadly didgets. Before the dead man fell to the ground Saren clenched his powerful jaws about his throat and tore it out with one swift movement. The blood filling his mouth filled him with energy and he charged towards the Bowman, his eyes filled with menace.

The man tried to get another arrow knocked on his string but Saren was to fast for him. Before the man could so much as blink he had been plowed down, his chest ripped to pieces by the werewolf's powerful claws. Saren howled at his victory as he feasted on the flesh of his fallen foes.

After a few minutes he shrunk back into his human form and shook his head, groaning as he began to feel the pain of the two arrow wounds he had suffered. they were both pretty serious, especially due to the fact that silver arrows had made them. Saren cast a hatefull glance at the silver weapons of his enemies, it was his least favorite metal. He decided that the only option he had was to head to town and try and buy or steal a few healing potions. Saren had no healing magic of his own, and he didn't want to deal with the pain of the silver laced wounds so he reluctantly decided to head off towards Falkreath.

After about a half an hour of walking Saren arrived. Moving as silently as a shadow he slipped by the guards on the edges of the town and prowled quietly down the street. Now to find a store or alchemist shop.

 

[MR-WIKI-96]

Daddy? Daddy?

Daddy? Daddy?

DADDY!?

Wayn woke up within a flash. Breathing heavily like a panting dog, or in his case, wolf. He laid up from his bedroll, placing his hands on his face. Every night he gets the same voice echoing through his head. Every night he still hear the cries of help from his little girl. Every night he still see's the fear in his family's eyes as they look upon him with terror trembling through them. Every night...is the same to him.

He took his hands off his face and looked around him. Skyrim. The same place he has been in for the past seven years. He see's the mossy trees and the green blanket of grass around him. It was daylight around him. Wayn tried to look at the sky but his vision was blurred from the light's rays shining over his just-awoken eyes.

He looks at the road too his left. It lead to the dark city of Falkreath. Wayn has been there many a times. It was home to the werewolves and vampires, as the rumor goes. He usually travels across Skyrim, meeting people like him who were also tormented by their inner beast, but has learnt to accept who they are. Unfortunately they had never wanted to stay and exchange pleasantries with Wayn. This meant that in the end, Wayn will always be alone. He just wanted a group of people like him to call friends.

A town guard came strolling down the cobbley path, doing his daily patrol of the area. The guard had noticed Wayn and started walking curiously over to him. Wayn rubbed his eyes again and his vision came back to it's original form. He was only in trousers with no shirt. His garb and hood were in a pile next to him. He doesn't wear much when sleeping. It's a precaution in case his beast side decided to kick in during the night. Plus he finds the cold air refreshing on his Redguard skin.

Hey you!, shouted the guard. His tone was quite serious as he looked at the half-naked camper. Why on Nirn are you camping here when there's an inn down the road in Falkreath!? Wayn sighed at this tiredly. He didn't want to deal with the nosiness of the town guard. He chooses not too sleep in a noisy inn, just in case he has another incident like he did in the Nightgate inn, when a bard decided to give him a wake up call at five in the morning with "The Dragonborn Comes". The Bard is now missing.

Wayn then looked at the guard and shrugged without a care at him. Hmph. Fine then traveler, be that way. He then walked off in a huff. Wayn sighed again, but this time with content at the leave of the interfering guard. Wayn stood up from his bedroll. His six pack was quite more visible to everyone who walked down the road to Falkreath. Then out of nowhere, the guard came back. Oh and for Talos's sake, put on a shirt. Children walk down here often! The guard walked off, muttering some small insults too himself at Wayn. Wayn chuckled. He highly doubted that kids would come to this dead town.

Wayn then fetched his alik'r hood and garb. These native Hammerfell clothing was the only thing comfortable to him when travelling or fighting. It reminds him that he was an alik'r and a talented one too. He took the garb and started putting it in. It was a simple process to him, a Redguard. It was like getting ready for work for him. He had the garb on as well as his shoes. He took the hood and started equipping it onto his head. His hood was his identification that he is or was, an alik'r. People knew that the alik'r were trained Hammerfell warriors and that they shouldn't be messed with. He made the finishing touches to his hood and then he picked up his dual scimitars. When he's not a werewolf, he's a highly skilled athletic dual swordsman. He started spinning his swords about with skill. He stopped. He still knows that he's got it. He packed up the rest of his stuff from his camp and headed into town.

Wayn walked through the foggy, creepy town of Falkreath. He's seen graveyards with more cheer than this place. He continued walking through the small town of Falkreath. He is has been here before quite a few times and has picked up a lot of things about this place. It was ruled by a corrupt, young leader who was in the pocket of the imperials. Vampires and werewolves seemingly roam the place like it was home. He knew that one was partly true. He also heard that this town was once prosperous and happy, with no mist but for the past many years it has hit a seemingly run of bad luck and is now a quite inhospitable place.

He headed towards the inn. He was looking for a drink or two. He's been drinking everyday for the past seven years hoping to gain alcohol poisoning or that the drink will give him the courage to end himself. Something inside of him keeps telling him to continue living and Wayn fears that it might be his inner-beast talking to him. He reached the door of the inn, where an old wooden sign hanged above it with a title written on it. "Dead Man's Drink". What a suitable name thought Wayn. He opened the creaky door and headed inside for a drink.

Wayn took a look around the inn. It was mildly inhabited by some folks. There was people sitting about talking to others or drinking alone. There was a group of three sitting in a corner and there was a couple of women sitting in the corner. They seemed to be lovers and were groping each other. Fifteen years ago Wayn would have walked over there like the teenager he was back then but Wayn was thirty-four now and was still loyal to his former wife. He looked at his wedding ring. He'll always be loyal to Siona.

He also saw a bard in the inn. He immediately groaned with annoyance and walked over to the bartender and took a seat. Welcome to the Dead Man's Drink, traveler. What will you have? Wayn reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of gold coins. Give me your strongest drink and keep 'em coming, gruffly said Wayn. The bartender took the bag of coins gracefully and pulled out his strongest drink. Wayn picked it up and read the black text on the drink's label. Black Briar mead. He wasn't surprised that this was their strongest drink. He's heard worrying rumors about the the drink. Wayn simply ignored these rumors and opened the cork on his drink.

Wayn took a huge chug of the bottle and continued to mind his own business when the bard came singing and dancing near him. Wayn sighed dis-contently and continued drinking. The bard then crossed the line and started badgering Wayn. How 'bout a song? Hmm? I got some great ones? Wayn looked at him with annoyance and tried to turn him away. No thank you. The bard however continued to dance around him and pester him. Oh come on, a song always cheers everyone up. Wayn felt his nerve being continually jumped on by this bard. No, leave me alone. The bard, unknowingly, however took it one step too far. You look like you're drinking your troubles away. The wife giving you some trouble? Eh? The bard laughed loudly and heartily but Wayn heard the comment and stood up from his seat swiftly and angrily. He then grabbed the bard by the neck collar. I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE! The anger caused Wayn's eyes too go dark red. The bard looked deeply into these eyes and saw the beast within. This struck fear into the bard's heart. Wayn dropped him and the bard ran. Running terrified for his life. Wayn sat back in his seat and started drinking again. Everyone looked at him during his outburst. Most shrugged it off and continued what they were originally doing. Most had already seen an outburst in their life, so this was nothing new to them. Wayn continued to drink uninterrupted for the meantime.

 

[dunklunk]

The vampire lay stretched out on his stomach on the roof of the Jarl’s Longhouse. With the building’s height advantage, he had a clear view of the goings-on of the local tavern, Dead Man’s Drink. He looked on with amusement and longing at the patrons entering and exiting the establishment. He had been up on the roof for a while now.

He was amused because the same people who went in standing up straight and being quiet with their friends, came out staggering and laughing out loud, clearly drunk on alcohol. Or whatever else was being served that night. He ached for the days of getting plastered with his friends and chasing women.

Both activities weren’t the same for him, now that he was a vampire. He could drink everything the tavern had in stock, and barely feel its effects. True, he may get a little tipsy, but never to the point of passing out or getting sick. Which to him now meant why even bother?

And the fairer sex? Before becoming a vampire, it was all about the chase. And the chase and its timeframe always varied, with the clear objective being to get her in bed. Sometimes it would take all of 20 minutes, other times it could take weeks, if not months. To him, the longer it took, the sweeter the taste of his pursuits when he finally did land her in between the sheets. And it was always consensual, never forced. He despised the latter, for in his eyes, if she didn’t wish to be with you, she didn’t wish to be with you. End of story.

With his vampiric powers, he could now have practically any mortal woman he so desired. All he needed to do was pull that look into my eyes bulls***, and the woman would do whatever he wanted. And where was the fun in that? He shook his head, sadly missing the chase.

It may have taken him a while to come to the realization, but he now understood that if he ever wanted to experience the chase again, with all its glories and pitfalls, it would have to be with either a female vampire or a female werewolf. Neither of the two was susceptible to his powers of persuasion. He ever so slightly smirked, knowing full well that actual conversation would have to come into play. Been a long time since I’ve had to do that, he thought.

Looking both ways of the main thoroughfare to make sure the coast was clear of any passersby, he flipped over the roof, landing silently on the ground below. He adjusted his hood, making sure it completely hid his flaming mop of red hair. Satisfied, he began to make the short journey to the tavern’s front door.

Upon entering, his senses were immediately assaulted by numerous scents and sounds. Most were pleasurable, such as the distinct smell of human blood and human women. Others not so much, such as the bard’s music and singing. He made his way to a corner cloaked in shadow, acquiring three ales along the way.

 

[Duon]

Fenris lay on his back in the carriage watching the black night’s sky as shadowy tree tops passed overhead, framing the road with each rumble of the wooden wheels pushing forward. Woolen cloak and hood pulled tightly over his normal attire; Fenris reached a arm out from underneath its folds touching his fingertips to the outline of the bright moon as its pale rays lit up his liquid silver eyes causing them to shine brilliantly. Basking it’s the moonlight he felt the Wolf within stir stretching from its slumber feeling alive under the presence of the lunar body.

His powers had always felt at their fullest under the moon; as he lay in the cart his senses drifted bringing in the sounds and smells from miles around, various wildlife bedding down in thickets while campfires roasted rabbit, filling his nostrils with its delicious aroma a deer bounded on a rotten log splintering to pieces as a arrow was heard hitting a tree followed by a burly man cursing out in anger, the sounds of Falkreath boomed in his ears with drunken yells and the sounds of glasses clanking.

While his senses continued to wonder his mind stayed singularly focused, he was here on business; rumors were circulating of Halflings and Vampire’s coexisting, while such a thing did not bother him much. It was a affront to the organization he was apart of and such a thing could not stand, he was to investigate these claims and see what he could learn if anything.

Pulling himself back to the rumbling cart; his eyes snapped open and he slowly lowered his fingertips from the moon, hiding his arm back inside the cloak as he set up smiling wolfishly the cart rumbled into town coming to a stop. Getting to his feet he wordlessly handed the driver a small bag of gold before jumping from the cart and making his way toward the Inn, hood pulled low over his head hiding his short white hair. Eyes shining out from underneath his hood like two small moons he made his way to a bar stool; ordering a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass before sinking into a table near the fire, pushing down his hood as he shook the tangles from his stark white hair enjoying the warmth of the fire.

Uncorking the bottle of whiskey he poured himself a shot quickly downing it feeling the warmth slide down him before pouring another he held it in his hand swirling the amber liquor in the light of the fire his eyes wondered over the room as he sensed the presence of many werewolves and vampires mixed in among the townsfolk, it appeared rumors might just be right. Leaning back in his chair he felt himself get lost in thought as he sipped on his whiskey.

 

[A.Auditore]

“I’m sorry it has to end this way” “No Aura please don’t I am sorry I didn’t mean to” cried the man as he was kneeing down in the dirt next to the hole she had dug for him “Look I told you first time that we met do not cross me, did you not believe me?” “But my wife my kids” he held his hands up towards, swatting them away “Dead… I warned you” the man started to weep in his tied up hands “Why why not my sweet Bella and my dear Eura” she looked down at him, kicking him on his back holding her sword at his neck “Like I said should of not crossed me” she stepped to the side of him raising her sword “It was your own undoing oh and by the way they still live… for now” as she brought the sword down cutting through his neck, a clean slice.



“Goodbye old friend” she smiled at the decapitated head as she threw it in with the rest of the bodies parts “Tis a shame, but then again that’s what you get when you try to cross Aura” she leaned against the shovel and looked down in the shallow grave, she let out a low sigh before grabbing the handle and shuffling dirt into the hole. When she was finished she brushed the dirt from her pants and stood up straight popping her back “Next time I’ll just have to get someone else to do this for me” she looked around before moving on down the road towards The Dead Man’s Drink.


She made her way towards the main road, catching a ride on the carriage, her eyes sparkling a golden hue and her fiery red hair glowed in the moons light, smiling at the other passenger baring her fangs at him, as he went to speak she threw herself at him holding her hand over his mouth whispering in his ear “You make a sound, and I will drain you dry” the carriage driver turned around “Everything fine back there?” the man just nodded and gave him a weak smile “E’vrythin is fine sir, just me and the misses having a moment is all” she leaned in towards him again “Mmm that’s a good boy, now I promise I won’t hurt you it will just feel like a little pinch” she ran her fangs along his neck, before sinking her teeth in.



Moments later the carriage stopped outside of Falkreath, she jumped out landing on her feet, she turned towards the man giving him a wink “Thanks for the drink” she headed over towards Dead Man, opening the door slowly. Stepping through the door she walked over towards an empty table, leaning back putting her feet on the table.

(ill fix it later at work right now)

 

[dunklunk]

It was crystal clear to the vampire that the majority of the room was made up of humans. But sprinkled throughout the room, his keen senses could pick up a werewolf here, a vampire there. The latest to catch his attention was a female vampire who plopped herself down at a table, and commenced to put her feet up on the same table.

Her boldness made him smile. He instinctively thought to go over and introduce himself, until he remembered she was a vampire, too. He also had to admit that his usual vampiric crap of seduction wouldn't work on her. Well, what to do then? he thought. His conclusion? He ordered three more ales. He truly was out of practice.

 

[Andante]

It had been a long time since she had ventured into Falkreath, and even longer since she'd cared to do so. Sitting at a three-way cross road, just stone's throw from either Cyrodiil or Hammerfell, the town bore no semblance of benefit from the cultural convergence. Instead, as Hana so liked to think of it, it stood as a stark monument to all the worst that the province of Skyrim had to offer. A flattened economy, despite their proximity to premium trade goods from the neighboring states, a corrupt government that even the war couldn't repair, and worst of all she thought - the festering stink of death that hung over everything. Not even a whiff of the warmest mulled mead, or the most tender roast of venison could permeate the scent of decay that settled low and clung to the streets, the houses and shops, and even the still living people that smelled like a literal living dead.

Pausing at the dilapidated city gates, she paused to take in the view, or what little of one remained. The trees seemed to press in around the buildings, like they were trying to smother the life out of them. Ghostly, white stone grave markers peered eerily from between the weatherworn trunks, making no illusion of welcome. This visit was strictly business. She didn't intend to stay any longer than was necessary, and the atmosphere certainly made no effort at changing her mind. Kicking at a pile of gravel she continued into the city, taken into the moulding embrace of Falkreath.

Her eyes flickered from doorway, to doorway and down every dark street and blackened pathway. Craning her neck into the wind she took a deep breath, but it was impossible to detect anyone in the fog of rotting stench floating about. A half sleeping guardsman followed her with his eyes, noting her as an outsider. What he wouldn't give, after so many quiet nights on watch, to tousle with a spry troublemaker. With a flash of her teeth, in a faux wolfish grin the guard crossed his arms and let his chin fall back to his chest, letting her pass without question. It simply wasn't worth the hassle.

"Perhaps it's simply another rumour..." She thought to herself reaching for the flask at her hip, and pulling loose the cork, and peering inside. Empty. "...then again, that's what it always was. Just another damned rumour." Throwing the flask down in contempt she kicked it into a tangle of overgrown weeds alongside the road. Perhaps it was simply that Razanur didn't want to be found - but she wasn't content to let that lie. He was alive, and waiting somewhere...maybe wandering, too and eventually, one day, they'd cross paths again.

Licking her dry lips, and looking after her ruined flask in contempt she knew she'd have to find a tavern sooner or later. As attuned to the wilderness as she was, something about the wood of Falkreath kept her leaning toward the indoors. Even if she would be the fiercest thing out there, and any room in town would be like a musty tomb, something made her feel uneasy and she knew there would be no rest for her out there. Falkreath wasn't known for its excellent production of alcohols, but its citizens were lauded and infamous for their abilities to pack it away. Surely there had to be somewhere nearby she could fill her belly, and warm herself from the dank chill of the night.

Lifting her head into the slow wafting breeze, she managed to catch the scent of ale and pipe smoke, mingling with hints of poor cooking. Either way, it seemed like the only hospitable place in the nearer vicinity and it would simply have to do if she hoped to sleep through the night; or try to, at any rate.

With a steady, and cautious pace she set off toward the tavern and welcomed herself inside, where groups of boisterous people roared both in delight and drunken anger. Taking a place on the long, age-polished bench by the roaring fire she unclasped the dark green, woolen cloak at her neck and placed it in a damp, muddy heap at her feet. She ordered a tankard of hot spiced mead and leaned into the smoldering logs to warm herself. Though, strange she thought, the uneasy feeling that had followed in her shadow near the forest had come with her and lingered over the small crowd of the pub, and she couldn't quite place a finger on it.

 

[Rekamennos]

"Mmmm, softly you know, that would be the best way I think..." Desiree let out a soft moan of delight as Vil's tiny boney fingers pressed into the muscles on her shoulders. Vil held close to her lover's neck, eyeing the werewolves from across the room as she flashed her pearly whites. Her fangs sparkled in the orange light of the fire.

"Give it time, and they will come." Desiree said once more, but looking up to her sweet lover keeping her tone hushed. "As soon as they come, I want you to scout for...recruits...outside of the inn. This place is crawling with our kinds tonight." Desiree's eyes flashed all across the room before they landed back upon her kin sitting in the far corner huddled up like racist werewolves would do. She winked at them as they stared enjoying the sight of two females so close together, but then at the same time riled up from concern of their natural interest. It just wasn't common.

"But I want be in the fun! Oh you keep all of the delight for yourself!" Vil sighed, leaning over more as her breasts pressed up against the back of her neck. Those teeth that were so close before came even closer now as they both had gaze locked on the three Nord men not far away. She began to gently graze her fangs up and down Desiree's neck as her hands pressed harder into her lover's shoulders. "Feel good, my love?"

"Always when it's you touching me. You always get me worked up when your fangs touch my neck..." Desiree let out a soft giggle as her head turned back towards Vil's. Her initial reaction to feeling her fangs against her neck was a tingling sensation that came down her entire spine. Their lips drew closer to one another as Vil retracted her fangs for the sake of being public. She eyed her pipe that sat on the table next to her bottle of Black Briar, and of course, their cards. Quickly Desiree's lips pressed against hers and they locked for a passionate kiss. There was a swap of tongues, and soon the Nords realized they were getting heated to which it drove them to each stand up.

As they made their way over, Vil's eyes popped open, and she released her kiss biting her lip with the yearn for more. "Once we get back to the hideaway, you my sweet, are in for a long night." She found the men making their way over fast, to which she quickly grabbed up her pipe and disappeared into the large crowd of people drawing close to the bard clapping and dancing. Not wanting to make a scene, seeing as they were females, the Nord men left Vil to escape out the front door of the inn.

"I will see you later, my dear..." Desiree called out, her voice fading as she realized that Vil had already gone through the front door. The three large men were now centered around her, and she smiled grabbing the deck of cards as she shuffled them in her fingertips. She placed them down, took a swig of her mead and then picked them back up. Her eyes fell onto each of their own, glowing with excitement, and a beautiful large smile across her face. "How are we, tonight, fellas? Care for a card game?" Desiree watched as they all looked upon her confused. "Come now, we don't need to make this an argument, do we? Tell you what, if I lose, you all three can beat me to a bloody pulp. If I win, how about you hear my proposition?"

Each man was extremely confused, but then of course dazzled by her gorgeous physique, long flowing blonde hair, and entrancing ice blue eyes. She winked, shuffling the cards and they all exchanged glances of "Why not?" to one another. So, they sat down, and gave in to playing this unique card game she and Vil had invented.

---------------

Vil drew in a deep inhale, enjoying the cold night that was accustomed to the weather of Skyrim, and she exhaled making O's with her lips. The drunkards hanging out on the inn's patio laughed as they spotted her lip trick. She shrugged, smiling amused as she headed off towards the town. "You know I like Falkreath..." She said to herself as she drew in yet another bit of tobacco, "...I love it's gloominess and depression...I love bringing happiness to my kind and the others when we find them here...quite a wonderful thing indeed..." She exhaled and then took a sharp right passing the Jarl's Longhouse. She took in a deep scent, smelling the blood of an injured member of Desiree's kin. Somewhere. So she decided she would follow it.

 

[meben15]

Saren slunk through the dark foggy streets of Falkreath, his silver eyes constantly searching for what he desired. He passed by the inn and looked with disgust upon the rowdy drunkards meandering about the entrance. The werewolf skirted around the group of revelers, sticking to the shadows on the other side of the street. Even though he was in human form Saren still moved like a wolf, slinking along low to the ground, his tall figure hunched over.

He sniffed the air, smelling the blood and life of all the people in the town. After passing by the Jarl's longhouse he finally spotted what he was looking for; a building with the mortar and pestel sign hanging on it, an Alchemist. Quickly and silently the werewolf man made his way to the door, dropping onto all fours and stiffing below the door. His animalistic senses told him that there was no one in the shop, so he straitened up to examine the locked door.

Normally he would have simply smashed the door to splinters with his fists, but that would cause to much noise. So Saren gripped the hinges of the door, using his spiked gauntlets to dig into the wood it was nailed to. He quickly peeled off the hinges and pulled the door gently off its hinges. There was a quick cracking sound as he snapped the locking mechanism while taking the door off its frame, but that was all. Looking around to make sure no-one had seen him Saren quickly stepped into the building, fitting the door loosely back were it belonged as he went in.

The inside of the shop was dark, but Saren's wolf eyes made it so he had no trouble seeing. he quickly made his way over to the shelf of potions, looking around for any that may suit his purpose. Saren swore as he found none at all, there was nothing but simple potions of curing coughs and headaches, as well as a few magical ones that did not have any healing properties. He would have to look in some other place, perhaps the general store. Saren headed for the door back into the outside world, were he belonged.

 

[Rekamennos]

"You know...I could heal you..." Vil said as she made her way over to the "Mortor and Pestel." She had witnessed the injured werewolf while skulking about in the shadows make his way silently in and out of the alchemy shop. She had a bright smile with her fangs revealed, holding nothing back for the sake of respect, and her ruby red eyes glowed under the full Skyrim moon. She looked up, admiring the moon's beauty, and then looked back to her furry friend in front of her. But at this moment, no, he wasn't furry. "You need help with that? Kind of interesting, however, because I thought that all werewolves had a knack for fast regeneration..." She shrugged, blowing out smoke from her pipe as she drew closer to the man. She figured he wouldn't be too happy of her presence, but she didn't mind at all honestly. She and Desiree perfected speech craft for and several "gentler" approaches to deal with their hostile kin. There was no one in sight, for most took up either at the inn or were sleeping from the time of the night it was. It wasn't near close to dawn, but late enough to keep all where they would be respectively in the evening.

 

[meben15]

As Saren exited the store, pushing the door back into place he jumped as a voice whispered to him from the shadows. Spinning around he saw a Dunmer woman, a vampire from the smell of her, standing looking at him with her blood red eyes.

As she talked to him he didn't move a muscle, continuing to regard her with a stoic, emotionless expression. When she asked why his regeneration had not healed him he hissed, muttering in a low gravely voice, "Silver weapons." He hadn't talked to anyone in quite a while, at least not someone who he wasn't about to kill, and this vampires sudden appearance disturbed him, as well as made him shy and overcautious. He did not hold excessive hate towards the vampires like some others of his kin did, but he did not trust them either. As Saren spoke he slid back into the shadows and hunched his broad shoulders over, crouching down near the wall and regarding the vampire woman the way a stray dog might look at a strange human.

 

[dunklunk]

Draining his 15th ale, the vampire often wondered why he continued to imbibe. It was not as if he could feel the liquid's intoxicating effects. Far from it. But still, at least it tasted good. He was in the process of finishing another ale, then thought, Well, now is as good a time as any to go over there and talk to her. I mean, what's the worst she can do? Bite me? He choked up a mouthful of ale, laughing at his own joke. Wiping at his mouth and chin with his sleeve, while still smiling like a complete moron, he made sure to grab two more bottles, and then he began his venture to her table.

The pair of bottles, he hated to admit, were there for support. In case she told him to hit the road. Or worse. It had, indeed, been a long time since he felt the need to go through with this human, petty bulls*** at what they called "courtship." But this was the chase, as far as he was concerned. With her, it could easily be the beginning as well as the end of it. Right here and now. Getting closer, he took one looooong swig from a full bottle, then said to her, Hello. My name is Dmitry. Would you care for some company?

 

[A.Auditore]

She tapped her manicured nails on the table and took her time looking up at him, smiling up at him letting the points of her fangs show "been some time since I had the pleasure of another's company" she held her hand out to the empty chair across from her "please sit" (fix later)

 

[dunklunk]

He eagerly sat, and then he struggled to come up with an appropriate subject to talk about. Now what do we discuss? he wondered. Ooooo, perhaps I should ask her what her favorite blood type is. And why. Or maybe where her most accessed . . . . , he took a moment to peek at her, and then came to the conclusion that he was out of his league. He rose from his chair, gathered his two bottles, and then nodded to her, silently wishing her a good evening. He then made his way for the front door, desperately in need of some fresh air.

 

[A.Auditore]

She raised her eyebrow at him "hmm that was odd, wonder what that was all about" she removed her feet from the table and stood and started pass the bar grabbing a bottle off the counter and headed out the door behind him slowly stalking him

 

[dunklunk]

He decided to walk the pathways of Falkreath, revelling for some reason in the sound and feel of the crunching gravel under his boots. He already knew where he was headed. The same place that always brought him peace and comfort. The local cemetary. He felt more than a tinge of sadness at his last bottle of ale turning up empty.

The vampire then turned into the cemetary's entrance, and started to sniff the air for the location of the freshest grave in the lot. Once located, he made his way to the pile of fresh dirt and started to make himself comfortable, burrowing into the pile of dirt for a safe place to sleep this night.

 

[A.Auditore]

Reaching the cemetery she watched him make his way over to a fresh hole, she sat up on one of the tombstones, she popped the cork on the bottle "do you mind telling me what that was back there?" She flashed a smile at him before putting the bottle to her lips, finishing the whole bottle "Tis a shame is it not? she looked over at him "Not actually tasting stuff, drinking and eating is merely just for plesaure now" she smiled and rolled off of the tombstone and walked over towards him locking her arm with his "Come back into the tavern and join me atleast for awhile in the "warmth" of the tavern" without giving him a chance to answer she lightly pulled him with her and walked back in and over to the table she was previously sitting at and propped her feet back on the table, crossing her legs "Im Aura by the way"

 

[Rekamennos]

"Well, Mr. Cranky, seems to me like you really just need a nice smoke. I could lend you my pipe, that is, if you'll give it back in the end..." Vil laughed trying to lighten the obviously antisocial werewolf from his streak of awkwardness he was presenting her with. She knew this would push him out of his comfort zone, but as he skulked in the shadows, she stepped two feet forward closer to him. Breathing out smoke, Vil inhaled it back in making more O's with her perfect lips. She stepped closer again, extending one hand as an aura of gold surrounded it and she kept her eyes as friendly as she had been. "See?" She said, showing her healing spell at the ready, "I swear I only want to help. Will you let me do that? It will be a lot faster I promise." She spoke seductively, in her natural vampiric tone, soft plump lips moving slowly as she spoke making it hard to look away. She took another puff from her pipe, and then she stepped closer.

-------------------

"Okay men. Ready for another round?" She asked, having won the first three games as each of the men around her were on their third flagon. They each had a smile on their faces, one of them laughing as they passed the cards back to Desiree to be flushed once more. "And since I won, you ready to hear my proposition?" She winked, looking them each sensuously in the eyes. "I promise I bite a lot less harder than you think..." She grinned. And they grinned too, but then one of them nudged the other speaking about Vil again in their ear. The look she had worked so hard from the beginning to rid them from, with alcohol and a good time, had come back upon each of their eyes. The men didn't argue, however, because they were to keep to their word as any true Nord would. The middle man nodded, and then crossed his arms as he silently gave a facial expression expectant of her proposition.

"So I know of this place...called the Deadly Hideaway..." Desiree tossed the cards back and forth between her fingertips "...you ever heard of it?" At that moment she slammed the fully shuffled deck down on the wooden table and picked up her flagon for a drink. The middle man shrugged, looking to his comrades, and then he looked to her and shook a head no for the rest of them. Desiree lifted a brow and then asked, "You guys mute or something? Why won't you talk?" They didn't answer. Just listened. She widened and rolled her eyes turning back the flagon to the counter and grabbing up the cards to toss them in her hands again.

"Whatever... anyway so I know of it. And it's a place for our kind, and my girl's kind, to get along in peace. Look, I know you liked what you saw whether you admit it or not. You want to get to know it..." She paused reaching for a card out of the middle of her deck and passing it over face down to the middle man. He picked it up, and then flipped it over as it read directions on how to get to the hideaway, as well as a threat for exposing the secret. The man's eyes widened to the threat he read, hands shaking, and then looked up to her seeing Desiree had removed herself from the table already. She made her way towards the benches in the middle of the inn littered with her kind, Vil's kind, and much more. She sniffed out the scent of a female, stepping over a spot right next to her, and sat right down making sure not to step on her pretty green cloak. She looked to Hana, held the deck of cards out in front of her, and she gave her a toothy grin as her ice blue eyes sparkled in the orange light of the fire. "Hey, you like to play cards?" She tossed the deck back and forth between her fingertips.