Darkness Rising

[Docta Corvina]

More very nice work!

 

[Madrar]

AN: Hey guys, chapter seven already, huh? By the way, you get a cookie if you know who says the line in the chapter title......(Hint: Lord of The Rings, The Two Towers)​

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Chapter Seven: Build Me An Army......​

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Madrar couldn't help but admire the womans' - no, the girls' fortitude. They'd walked at least twenty miles since Riften, and she had barely slowed. The distance was no challenge for the Khajiit, as his body no longer needed real rest, but on a mortal, the blisters forming on her heels and soles of her feet had to be agonizing. Not a word of complaint escaped her lips though, and Madrar didn't want to insult the woman by suggesting she rest. Although they seldomly spoke, Madrar preferred a companion to the grim silence of the road.​

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They were meandering through the foothills near Kynesgrove, when the woman stumbled, and nearly fell. Madrars' hand shot out, holding her in a firm, steadying grip. "Are you alright?" the vampire asked, lowering the woman to the ground. Despite her grimace of pain, she nodded "Let's go, we're wasting daylight" she said, glancing at the setting orb of fire. Madrar disagreed, placing a hand on her shoulder to keep her down. "No, you're exhausted, and it's pointless to aggravate your feet by moving around" he stated. Sighing in defeat, the girl stayed where she was, and removed the pack she'd been wearing since their departure. Out of it, she produced a bedroll and unfurled it onto a relatively flat piece of ground.​

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Moving closer, he placed a hand on her left boot, the foot that had given out. She winced and tried to pull away, but the Khajiit kept a firm grip "unless you want a potentially deadly infection, don't struggle" he said, calmly, quietly. He gently tugged her boot off, and winced both parts sympathy and hunger at the blood from burst blisters and cuts on her foot. "Pass me a cloth to wrap this in" he instructed, holding the foot in question in his hand. She passed him a strip of tan coloured cloth, which he tied around her foot, covering the worst of the small injuries. "This should keep out infection" he explained, binding it tightly.​

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"Were you some sort of healer, back before..." she trailed off, looking embarrassed. Madrar picked up where she left off. "Before I was bitten?" he guessed, and at her nod, continued, "No, I was a mercenary, and I saw enough wounds to know how to take care of most injuries" a light of understanding came to her eyes. She shifted slightly, as Madrar turned to get a fire going. Small kindling was already tied to the pack, and a tinderbox. Striking the flint, he lit the dried grass he'd bunched under the wood. Turning back to his mysterious companion, he asked "So, what about you, what's your name, story, where you're from?"​

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The woman looked uncomfortable, but answered anyways: "I'm originally from Whiterun, we, my parents and I moved to Riften a couple of years ago. My mother and I owned a small alchemy shop, and my father worked in the meadery. When those men you killed came into town, they accused us of helping vampires, and practicing witchcraft they-" her voice faltered, but she continued "-burned my mother inside our shop, and captured me when I tried to escape. I have no clue what happened to my father."​

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"Get some rest,uh.....I didn't get your name" it was now Madrar's turn to be embarrassed. The girl smiled, her eyes twinkling "My name is Sonja, and yours?"​

"Madrar" he answered shortly, "now get some rest, I'll take watch?"​

"When should I relieve you?" Sonja responded.The Khajiit vampire chuckled and turned to face her.​

"I'll take the whole watch. I don't need to sleep as much as you mortals do" he reminded her.​

"But-" she started to protest, but Madrar cut her off.​

"Relax, alright? I'm scarier than anything you'll see out here" he said in a slightly exasperated tone. Finally, she slumped down on the bedroll, covering herself for maximum warmth. She seemed to have taken him at his word, but he'd seen the flicker of doubt cross her face. "What are you afraid of?" he asked her in a whisper to quiet for her to hear. It would not be the last time he asked that very same question.​

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The large, dimly lit cavern was filled with the dead. Or rather, to be more precise, undead. Thousands of zombies, skeletons, and lastly, Draugr filled the area, standing in military formation, not making a sound. It took about ten necromancers, and a pair of vampires to control the army. However, this force was just the beggining of the Salthar's armies. After all, thousands more ancient bodies, and more recent bodies had been buried across Skyrim. Tens of thousands, actually.​

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Vengar stepped forward, admiring the unliving formations. " Are we ready to take our vengeance on the living, my brother?" Salthat turned and smiled.​

"Yes....we'll start with vengeance"he admonished.​

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[Dovakiin98]

That was another great chapter man!I can`t wait to see where Salthar`s army will strike first.

 

[Aeri Shadow]

Another awesome chapter. Salthar is a bad-ass, and it looks like Madrar is starting to show a soft side for Sonja Keep it up!

And I think it was Saruman who said the line in the Chapter title... "Build me an Army worthy of Mordor."

I'll me coming around to collect that cookie.

 

[Madrar]

Another awesome chapter. Salthar is a bad-ass, and it looks like Madrar is starting to show a soft side for Sonja Keep it up!

And I think it was Saruman who said the line in the Chapter title... "Build me an Army worthy of Mordor."

I'll me coming around to collect that cookie.

Lol, good catch. Yeah it was mentioned in the Sauron-Saruman conversation. Thanks for the reviews you guys.

 

[Madrar]

Chapter Eight: Blood and Roads​

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The undead marched under the cover of black storm clouds. It was the first of FrostFall, and the air already carried the chill bite of winter. Salthar had planned for their march to be nearer to the winter months, as Skyrims' freezing temperatures, and stormy weather was likely to provide ideal cloud cover for the vampires to fight comfortably in the day as well as night. The dead needed no rest, and so they marched endlessly. From a large opening in the earth, the marched south-east to Morthal. The unwalled town fell relatively quickly, with the town guards and surprised vampire hunters, it was a massacre.​

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In the aftermath, Salthar picked his way through the corpse riddled streets. Bodies floated in the murky water of the swamps, those that had fallen in during the fighting, and those that had attempted to flee. Doors to houses and larger buildings hung off their hinges where the dead had smashed the wood to pieces.​

A scarred, ebony armoured vampire stepped towards him, his weapons and armour dripping with blood. "Survivor?" asked Salthar as the vampire bowed.​

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"The Jarls' family and the wizard,as ordered, my lord" he reported in a rasping voice.​

"Bring them" Salthar ordered, and turned as Vengar walked to his side. A long slash was rent on his right side, most likely from a great sword or battleaxe. He nodded when Salthar regarded him, and held up what was in his other hand. The severed head of the captain of the guards. It was somewhat of a passion of his brothers' to seek out and kill the toughest enemies on the field. And collect their heads. "This one put up a fight" the blonde haired vampire chuckled, swinging the head by its' dirty blonde hair, gesturing at the rent in his armour. Salthar just grinned and shook his own head.​

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A scuffle drew their attention. Falion the mage, was being dragged forward, and desperately trying to wrench his hands away from the two Draugr Scourges that had clamped the Redguards' wrists in their manacle strong hands. After followed Jarl Ravencrones' family, their heads hung, thoroughly defeated. The mage however, seemed more determined to fight. Salthar crooked his finger, and his two Scourge captors dragged the dark robed mage towards him. The man had several wounds, one above his brow, which seeped blood ,and others that left dark blotches on his clothing.​

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He was mumbling something under his voice, and Salthar had to lean closer to hear. "Please don't do this, please, please.." Tilting the conjuration mages' chin up he forced the man to look into his eyes. "Why should I stop?" he asked mockingly. Either the Redguard was dazed from blood loss, or simply hadn't noticed the vampire lords' voice. "I-there is a way...your soul can still be saved, you can be a decent person once more!" he gasped.​

Salthar chuckled, then his voice grew into a full blown laugh. He turned to his vampire retinue, and the expressionless army behind them. "I can regain my soul!" he laughed, his mirthful voice tore through the harsh cries of the carrion crows, and cold winter air. His laughter contaminated the other blood drinkers, who roared with laughter of their own.​

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His laughter exhausted, he turned back to the captured mage. "You see, I like being a murdering soulless monster, after all, what has my soul ever done for me?" he said in a cold voice. He grabbed the man by the throat easily lifting him at least two feet off the ground. " Tell me, how does it feel to have failed the town you swore to defend?" The mans' only response was to choke and gurgle. Salthar nodded softly as if he understood "that's what I thought" he murmured, and squeezed. With a crunch of bone and cartilage, the mans' neck snapped and he crumpled to the ground. Lifting his gaze from the limp body of the mage-protector of Morthal, he waved the two Draugr holding the young boy captive forward. As the boy was placed in front of him, Salthar knelt to the childs height, and smiled, revealing his fangs.​

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The boy was crying, tears streaking down his cheeks, but he was attempting to present a stoic expression. Placing a hand on the boys shoulder, and said "Don't be scared" and straightened. Then, facing the family, two males and two females, he gestured for their captors to release them, and said one word " Run" they were off like hares, sprinting towards the swamps, and what they perceived as safety. Scanning the vampires he motioned a female wood elf vampire with a bow. She walked to his side, regarding him curiously. "Do you think you can hit them from here?" he asked, and she replied with a feral grin. "The young lady, I think" he said pointing out the target. A twang of a bowstring sounded, and the young, raven haired girl stumbled and fell, an arrow protruding from between her shoulder blades. "An excellent shot, my dear" he complimented the woman. Smiling with pride, she drifted back to her companions. Signalling the necromancers, he ordered "raise the bodies before the crows get to them"​

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"It's still a two day march to Windhelm" said Madrar, slowly and clearly, as if speaking to a young child, " twice that long if you keep walking on with an injured foot" Sonja glared at him, hands on her hips. Madrar turned away, packing up the remains of the girls' small breakfast. He'd brought down a rabbit in the hills, drained most of its' blood to sustain him, and made a small meal for Sonja out of the animals legs. When he turned to regard her again, she was still glaring. "Staring at me won't get us anywhere fast either" he told her, hefting her pack.​

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"I'm fine, just give me my things, and we'll be off" she growled through clenched teeth. Madrar was not amused, "why are all females so stubborn?" he muttered to himself, and was painfully reminded of Varia. Varia, who hadn't even had a chance to escape, taken from him by the same people that Madrar had been hunting before rescuing Sonja. Shaking the depressing thought away, he regarded Sonja, who was looking at him as if she'd said something. "I said we should head out before the storm hits" and pointed. Turning around, Madrar noticed the grey clouds that signaled imminent precipitation, "Ok, you win, let's go" he conceded, "but I'm keeping the pack" he said before heading to the cobblestone road. He heard her sigh behind him, before following.​

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They'd been walking for three or four hours when Madrar saw them. Two figures, one Argonian and another an elf, were walking towards them. Madrar noticed something else as well, the way they walked and moved, confident but wary, and with a discomfort that only a creature of the night felt while walking in daylight. Sonja hadn't noticed it, but feeling the same acute pain that the two vampires ahead of him did, he knew. Grabbing her arm, he ordered "get behind me.Now" although it looked like she might argue, she only nodded and stepped behind him. Madrar had no weapons, and was weak from a lack of human blood, but felt an obligation to the young Nord behind him. "What is it?" she whispered from behind him.​

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"Vampires, two of them" he answered just as quietly. As the two vampires approached, Madrar realized he actually knew these two. The Argonian obviously recognized him as well, because he lifted an arm in greeting and smirked "look at you Madrar, playing escort to the pretty lady..."​

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To Be Continued.​

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AN: This will be the last chapter I write until the end of August, just to let you guys know.​

 

[Start Dale]

I liked the chapter not the break, i'm really enjoying the story. I will wait as patiently as i can until it is continued.

 

[Madrar]

Chapter Nine: Friends and Fire​

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Madrar tensed , recognizing the starved, desperate look in the eyes of both vampires. Already, the elf, a Bosmer Madrar recognized as Voraen Redbow. Neither of them had really spoken, but they knew each other by sight. The Argonian , Madrar knew by name, and with his distinctive red tattoos and black scales, he could be no other than BlackStorm. The Argonian vampire that had risen from a lowly dock worker in Windhelm, to a dangerous and highly succesful mercenary. That was before being bitten by Salthar. After that he'd murdered several guards, he'd once more been forced into the status of dock worker, where he had built a following of Argonian dock workers.​

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Voraen smirked and stared hungrily at Sonja from where she stood behind her Khajiit protector. "Good of you to bring a snack, Madrar..." as he spoke the wood elf stalked forward, making no effort to hid his vampiric nature. The starved vampire lunged, his jaws stretching impossibly wide as he closed the distance between himself and Sonja. Only to be flung backwards by Madrar, and land snarling beside Blackstorm. "She is not to be touched!" snarled Madrar, his ears going back, and baring his fangs.​

"Don't be greedy, Madrar!" Spat Voraen, sinking into his own fighting stance, his elven bow and arrows forgotten. The oncoming storm was broken by a strained laugh from BlackStorm.​

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"Come now, ripping each other to pieces won't solve anything, and I doubt she'd be that filling" the black scaled Argonian joked. Voraen muttered something under his breath, but nodded and straightened anyways. Madrar took slightly longer than the Bosmer, just in case he was planning another attack. He heard Sonja let out a relieved breath. "Where are you two headed, anyways?" BlackStorm asked, his yellow, reptilian eyes flicking between Khajiit and Nord. " We're going to Windhelm, I was planning on hiding out in the Grey quarter"​

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" Like hell you are!" Exclaimed Voraen, looking more than a little astonished. "The vampire hunters wiped out most of the vampires in the city, and are still smoking them out, BlackStorm and I only escaped by sheer luck" Madrar cursed, and Sonja let out a horrified gasp. Frowning, Madrar turned to the girl, wondering what had brought about her reaction. She had turned away, from what little of her face he could see, her blood had drained from her face. "Come on, we're going to try to join with Salthar and whoever else survived" offered BlackStorm. Left with little choice, Madrar sighed and nodded.​

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The army kept a good pace. Then again, for an army that didn't eat, sleep or drink, a snails pace would have pleased Salthar. They had encountered no to little resistance, despite the fact that they'd come across several troops of both StormCloaks and Imperials. They'd put up a pitiful fight, but since they were human, Salthar and his fellow vampires hadn't expected much of a fight. The new corpses shambling alongside the older ones attested to the poor skill of their enemy.​

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Vampire scouts, often in the form of great, black red eyed bats swooped down to report regularly. One such scout did so now, his body blurring as he transformed from bat to a red haired,tall vampire. "My lord!" the vampire stumbled forward, his gold-red eyes more than a little worried. "What is it, Marten?" inquired Salthar, raising an eyebrow at the mans' hasty approach.​

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"It's-" a roar shook the very air itself as a huge, bronze dragon swept over the undead army.​

"Dragon!" yelled Vengar, looking up at the great beast as if wondering how best to fit the beasts great head on a trophy rack. At a mental command, arrows soared from the undead ranks to clatter against the dragons scales. Then the dragon opened its' maw and bathed the first rank of zombies, Draugr and skeletons in flame.​

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While blades and arrows are frequently useless against the undead unless a critical strike is scored, flame is always efficient against such monsters. The first rank went up like dry firewood, their moldy clothing and rotting flesh burning merrily. Turning for another pass, the bronze beast prepared to breathe flames once again. Salthar stepped forward, a black star shaped piece of jewelery in one hand, purple magic in his other. He shouted words of power in language long since forgotten to men, and a lance of black-purple energy hit the dragon, and tore its' soul clear out of the great beasts body.​

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With a whimpering roar, the creature slammed into the ground with a crash, leaving a furrow nearly three dozen metres long. While he was outwardly smug, he knew he had to find a way to prevent another attack from dragons. Which meant speaking with their lord.​

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To Be Continued.​

 

[Svarnor]

Wow... I've only just discovered this gem of a story, but already I'm really interested. Keep up the good work.

 

[Madrar]

Chapter Ten: Not alone and Dragons​

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Madrar, BlackStorm, Voraen and Sonja made quick progress. They diverted their path to loop around before arriving at Windhelm. BlackStorm didn't know the exact location of where Salthar and the rest of the coven was concealed, except that it was located somewhere south of Dawnstar. So they trudged their way along the road, and had traveled for two days before making camp. While Sonja ate, curtesy of Madrar and his skill with a bow, Voraen called the two other vampires to him. The Bosmer was more than a little grim.​

" We're being tracked" he said without preamble. BlackStorm and Madrar exchanged surprised glances.​

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"Are you sure?" BlackStorm asked, his voice pitched low, as to not disturb Sonja. Voraen nodded impatiently. "More certain than I've been of anything before, they must have picked up our trail from Windhelm" Madrar frowned, thinking, and caught BlackStorms' eye​

"At least they don't know who's with you" the Khajiit pointed out. Although Voraen looked as though he might argue, he nodded. "We'd better move faster from now on" he cautioned.​

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They travelled for another day before Madrar caught his first glimpse of their trackers. Mounted men, with a few on foot. From the small mountain the three vampires and single Nord were standing on, they could see the trackers campfire, and the small dots of the men. Feeling more than a little uneasy, Madrar settled down by the small fire that he'd started for Sonja's sake. He had no need for the heat, but he wouldn't let the girl die. Voraen and BlackStorm probably couldn't have cared less, but Madrar had convinced them.​

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"They've been following us since Windhelm" reported Voraen, when Madrar came to relieve him. Madrar frowned, wondering if they knew the exact number of members. "If we have to, do you think we could win a fight?" He asked. Voraen grimaced "Depends on what weaponry they have...and if they're expecting a fight"​

The wood elf didn't mention the third, and more troubling option: There may have been more than one group. Shaking off his worries, he warned "keep your eye on them"​

"I intend to" was the predictable response.​

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The frozen mountain ground scattered with ruined wagons, and charred corpses did little to soothe Salthar's irritated mood. He'd put a hold on his campaign in order to secure the allegiance of the dragons. To do that, he'd been forced to travel to a frozen mountain, a location that was delivered to him by a servant of the lord of dragons, Alduin.​

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Now it seemed Alduin was a no show. Or he was trying to build the tension. Salthar was not in a mood to wait, and he made it known; "Unless you plan on negotiating with ice cubes , you had better show yourself" the master vampire shouted impatiently. His personal guard, all vampires instead of Draugr Scourges, were armed with bows, powerfully enchanted. The flapping of powerful wings announced the king of dragons' arrival. Alduin, a powerfully built, huge, dark grey-silver dragon landed heavily in the snow covered clearing.​

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"You have a lot of nerve daring to seek an audience with me, dead one" growled the huge beast, clearly aiming to intimidate. Salthar wasn't terribly impressed, true, it would be difficult to kill a dragon the size of Alduin, but not impossible. "I'd rather seek an alliance" he said mildly.​

The dragon pulled his head back in surprise "an alliance?" Salthar nodded​

"you want to destroy humanity...all I ask is that I be allowed to carve out a small kingdom for myself.After all, what threat would I, a mere vampire pose to you and your kin?" Alduin seemed to consider this information for a while. "What would this alliance entail?" he asked afterwards​

"Your dragons stop attacking my armies. You help my elite units get into cities and enemy held castles from above, in exchange, we won't kill your dragons, and we'll provide you with...treasure"​

Alduins' eyes lit up. Despite his claim that he was descended from a god, he, like all dragons had weakness for treasure. Gold and gems in particular. "There is..one other condition I will ask of you" the dragon rumbled, sounding considerably more agreeable than he had at the beginning of the negotiations.​

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Salthar nodded "I'm listening" he stated, genuinely curious as to what the great beast had to say.​

"There is one...who has the power to kill us, permanently, that is...he is called Dovakiin..I want him dead"​

Salthar smiled at the simple request "Consider this...dovakiin as good as dead"​

Alduin rumbled deep in his chest "then we have an alliance" Salthar bowed and smiled​

"I look forward to it" he said, and meant it.​

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To Be Continued

 

[Madrar]

Chapter Eleven: The Bloody Path and Confrontation​

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The dead were once more on the move. After joining the army where they'd been awaiting his orders near the harbour city of Dawnstar, they'd been moving towards the city, not just because of it's weak defenses and strategical value, but because Salthar wanted to prevent the enemy from guessing his next move. If any of the living had seen the army on the move, they would have assumed that the dead were heading towards Ivarstead, or perhaps Whiterun.​

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This tactic ensured that Dawnstar would still be weakly defended, and unsuspecting of an attack. This attack depended heavily on Salthar's new allies, the dragons, and the plan went off without a hitch as a pair of dragons incinerated the guard barracks, cooking said guards within. Then, as townsfolk rushed around, desperately attempting to put out the spreading fires, Salthar signalled the attack. The folk of Dawnstar did't stand a chance, and they knew it. A few attempted to get into the boats that were anchored down at the harbour, but sailors, long since dead, climbed up the hull, eager to sink their teeth into living flesh.​

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Screaming erupted from the decks of the ships, but the city guard was too pressed by the undead to render any aid. Soon, the fighting had ended, with bodies floating face down in the water, or simply strewn out on the frozen ground. Hours later, however, not a corpse was left, only splatters of blood and the burnt cinders of houses remained, a silent testament to the efficiency of the undead.​

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"They're nearly on us" reported Voraen stringing his bow. Madrar nodded, he'd barely heard it, but he could smell their pursuers closing in on them. He put a hand on Sonja's shoulder, stopping her from moving forwards. She turned, her light blue eyes puzzled "what is it?" Guiding her to a small outcropping of rock in the side of a small hill, he said simply "We were followed, and they've caught up to us" Sonja nodded, seemingly unperturbed that she might be facing imminent death. "Where do you want me?" she asked, drawing a dagger from her belt. Madrar was already shaking his head, "I want you to stay here, where they won't have a chance to get at you" Immediately, he knew she was going to disagree. Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth parted slightly.Before she could object, he said "Listen, we're faster and stronger than you. There's no need for you to fight" he explained impatiently sighing, he growled "just stay out of our way, alright?" And turned to face the approaching vampire hunters.​

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He regretted snapping at Sonja, but he felt more than a little protective of her, after all, she was barely out of childhood. "Get ready" BlackStorm ordered, drawing his scimitar and readying his shield. Madrar took the centre of the three vampire group, while Voraen stood off to the left, firing his first arrow.The leading rider was blown clear of his saddle by the force of the arrow, and tumbled to the ground. The Bosmer fired two more arrows, both of which struck their targets with lethal force. "Get ready" he hissed, putting his bow away and drawing a pair of elven daggers.​

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Madrar readied his two maces, giving them test runs, swinging them back and forth. The first group of Vampire hunters attacked, swinging maces, swords, and axes at the three defenders. Madrar parried one blow, slamming his own weapon into the chest of his attacker, who pitched backwards his ribs crushed. Despite the prowess and weapons of the hunters, vampires are apex predators. Soon, only one member of the Dawnguard force was remaining, as compared to the three vampires, that weren't even winded.​

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As they moved in for the kill, a peculiar smell wafted to the Khajiit vampires nose. "What is that awful dog smell?" he said, halting. Looking both confused and concerned, BlackStorm and Voraen stopped to look at him. That's when the last warrior struck, hunching over, as his bones reformed, jaw lengthening into a wolf like snout, and fingers stretching into claws. "Are you serious!?" cried BlackStorm, lifting his shield. Madrar, however, wasted no time with words, instead moving forward, both maces moving to strike-​

and was knocked off his feet as the werewolf lashed out with a vicious uppercut. Voraen and BlackStorm moved in, slashing and stabbing, they attempted to drive the hulking beast back.​

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A mistake on Voraens' part gave the werewolf enough time to lash out, breaking most of the wood elf's ribs. Madrar groaned and got back to his feet, eventually herding the beast against the rocks, and cut it down. Voraen however, couldn't get up as easily as Madrar had, due to the fact he was on his back, his chest deformed, and with Sonja kneeling over him, staring with undisguised horror at the mess.​

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"I guess we're not going any further tonight" joked BlackStorm, but the concern for his wounded friend was clear in his eyes. After setting up camp, Madrar turned to see Sonja holding Voraens' left hand, while the Bosmer wood elf writhed on the ground, howling in pain as his ribs popped back into place. "Isn't he hurting your hand?" he asked, as Voraen snarled and spat in pain. Sonja smiled tightly at him "you have no idea" she asnwered. Glancing down at the agonized expression on his companions' face, Madrar wasn't surprised "you should be careful", he warned, " our grip is much stronger than you're used to"​

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Sonja laughed lightly, "Madrar, if he was going to hurt me, don't you think he would have by now?"​

When the Khajiit vampire fixed her with an unbelieving stare, she shrugged "you can't all be murdering monsters"​

Madrar barked out a laugh "Yeah, and next you'll be telling me that vampires don't need blood to survive, and have souls" Sonja just shook her head.​

"I don't believe you'll hurt me" she said simply.​

Madrar straightened and walked a small distance away, and was more than a little curious as to why Sonja had such faith in bloodsucking monsters.​

 

[Madrar]

A/N: Hey guys, this one re-visits our Dawnguard friends. By the way, for anyone worried about spoilers, all the Dawnguard characters I've made up myself, and, well everyone knows about Fort DawnGuard, I assume?​

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Chapter Twelve: Rain and Shadows​

Koris Madrigan was anything but impressed. "How is it, gentlemen, that we are unable, to track down a rambling horde of undead!?" he roared from his place at the conference table. Several other high ranking members of the Dawnguard were stationed around the table, and all of them flinched at his tone.​

"General, sir, whoever is in charge of the enemy army has impeccable tactics, our scouts were led to believe that the undead were headed towards Ivarstead, and so, we pulled most of our forces out of DawnStar"​

"Which lead to our embarrassing defeat" stated Koris, crossing his arms. The man that spoken, a green scaled Argonian by the name of Green-Forest-Standing nodded and looked guilty. "So, that leads us to the conclusion, gentlemen, that our forces are horribly incompetent" he said, "and incompetence, is unacceptable !"​

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No one spoke, clearly they thought that it would prompt another outburst. "What do you want us to do, general?" asked Dinah, the only member of the group that had kept his calm.​

Sighing, Koris wiped a hand across his face, "we need to strengthen our ties to both Ulfric and Tullius...we need their armies if we want to successfully stop the vampires from covering Skyrim in darkness"​

Dinah and the others were already nodding "I'll send messengers to both Solitude and Windhelm" he assured the general. Koris nodded, then swept his gaze over the assembled DawnGuard. "As for the rest of you, assemble your men, and strengthen the smaller settlements. I don't want to hear about another disaster like Dawnstar" the rest of the soldiers saluted, and filed out of the room.​

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Before Dinah could leave, Koris placed a hand on his shoulder. "My friend, I want you in Windhelm personally" when the Redguard turned and frowned, the general elaborated " the Nords will respond better to an offer of alliance if a representative goes there in person" Dinah still looked unconvinced, one hand straying up to twist his dark goatee. "You know I would not ask if it wasn't essential that we had the backing of Ulfric and the Stormcloaks" Finally, the redguard vampire hunter nodded.​

"I know, my friend, but don't start any wars without me" he grinned, turning to the door.​

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"Damned, snow" cursed Dinah Kahstor as another blast of the freezing white stuff nailed him full in the face. His horse was definitively putting up with the cold weather and blizzards than the Redguard. A group of soldiers moved to intercept him infront of the great gates of the city of Windhelm. "Halt!" One commanded, "State your name and business!"​

"My name is Dinah Kahstor, of the DawnGuard. I seek an audience with the jarl of Windhelm, and the high king of Skyrim" the last part he'd added on to have a better chance of getting an audience. Flattery often got you more places than demands and insisting.​

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The guard nodded, as two others moved to the gate to let the Redguard into the city. "Enjoy your stay in Windhelm" the man said as Dinah rode into the snowy city. Dismounting, he handed the reigns of his horse to a stable hand. Then he headed for the palace of the kings, doing his best to ignore the startled looks that the passerby were giving him. After all, it wasn't every day that someone in the tan/brown of the Dawnguard, especially, a Redguard was seen around the city.​

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He arrived at the great doors after about ten minutes of travel. After questioning him briefly, the doors parted to the great hall of the palace. Much to Dinah's surprise, jarl Ulfric Stormcloak was already speaking to someone. And that someone, was a stunningly beautiful Nord woman, wearing a fur cloak, much like Ulfrics' and leather armour under that. She was also dead. Clearly none of the living Nords in the room could tell, as most of them were staring at her with a mix of admiration and lust. She'd obviously enthralled the entire group, with some spell, or innate vampiric ability.​

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"Clearly, we pose no threat to your Stormcloaks" she was saying, her voice smooth and seductive. Ulfrics' eyes were glazed over, clearly under her spell as much as his minions. Quietly, Dinah drew his crossbow, and slid a bolt into the firing slot. "Hey, what are you-" one of the guards started to exclaim, before the Redguard pulled the trigger. The bolt flew true, striking the vampire in the right shoulder. Shrieking, the Nord vampire spun, fixing Dinah with a vicious glare on the man. His attack hadn't been meant to kill, just to distract, which in turn freed Ulfric and the guards from her thrall.​

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Unfortunately, he now had a very angry vampire coming after him. A blast of ice shot from one hand, a dagger appearing in her other hand. Dinah spun away from the blast of frost, and barely deflecting the attack. The vampire landed, her golden hair flashing in the torchlight, but instead of pressing the attack, she turned, knocked a pair of guards out of her way, and fled out into the cloudy day.​

Ulfric was on his feet, axe in hand. "Can you tell me what in Talos's good name just happened?" He said, his deep voice more than a little surprised.​

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" A vampire had enthralled you and your court..your highness, that is part of the reason for my arrival" Explained Dinah, sheathing his sword. Ulfric looked concerned, but motioned for the vampire hunter to continue. "Milord, the organization I am in specializes in hunting vampires and other undead....what we need is your aid "​

"My men have no experience with the undead...and with the civil war going on, I'm afraid I can't spare men to spare" Dinah nodded, having expected that response from the Stormcloak leader.​

"Your highness....we have evidence that a vampire is slaughtering his way across skyrim.With an army of the undead" Ulfric now looked much more serious, and dangerous, as his ginger coloured brow lowered in displeasure. "So that's what wiped out the soldiers in Dawnstar and Morthal?" Upon seeing the Redguard nod, he grumbled to himself, and then stated "Very well, you have the backing of the Stormcloaks, but only if the Empire helps as well"​

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Dinah bowed,"of course, my jarl, we've already sent a message to Solitude", he assured the Nord.​

Within the hour, he was on his way to oversee a small army of Stormcloak soldiers.​

 

[Madrar]

Superiority and A not so happy re-union​

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"Those fools" sneered Vengar, as he and a small group of scouts watched the allied army of perhaps one thousand men move into position. they had chosen a place that would present a solid front to the enemy. A front that was made to show unity, and intimidate the enemy. Of course, those tactics only worked on an enemy that could be intimidated..a living army. And the tactics they were employing..any junior commander in the Aldemeri army knew the tactics the allied force was using. Finally, it was clear that both the Imperial forces and the Stormcloaks were going to fight as an individual groups, not as a whole army.​

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Salthar was surrounded by scouts, tacticians, and his guard when Salthar galloped towards them on a skeletal,undead horse. "They're in the fields just west of the forest. They're not a unified front at all...standard formation, of course" by the tone in his brother's voice, Salthar could tell the younger vampire was insulted by the commanding officers' lack of imagination. The sorcerer smiled slightly " I'm sure you're looking forward to, ah...correcting his mistakes" Vengar only chuckled. "Can they stand before us?" In response, the heavily armoured Altmer laughed out loud, and nodded. "The Imperials and Stormcloaks are barely restraining themselves from carving each other to pieces. Our charge will shatter them" reported his brother.​

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The older of the two grinned in satisfaction. With the allied army facing the direction of Dawnstar, they wouldn't notice the charge of the undead that were concealed in the hills near their flank. The main bulk of the undead army, however, would march right up to the reluctant comrades. Salthar would find the allied weakness, and he would seize it in something like a death grip. He signaled his commanders, and they in turn used their mental powers to get the undead moving. The plan only called for the flank attacks once the main force was fully engaged with the enemy. Marching in unison, the Draugr, skeletons and zombies forming a solid wall of the dead. Already, Salthar could feel the fear oozing from the living as they realized how truly outnumbered they were.​

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However, he gave them credit for their brave, if somewhat foolish charge. The mortals chopped and slashed their way through the ranks of dead flesh, and got themselves really stuck into the fighting, before Salthar gave the signal that ensured their doom. A single fireball sent into the air, exploding just above tree level. Mounted vampires lead the charge, slashing and hacking with abandon as they crashed into the Imperial-Stormcloak lines. Then the undead closed in behind the allies, which snapped the not so willing alliance. Imperial Legionairres tried to flee one way, while the Stormcloaks fled the other. The cohesive fighting units that had been fighting as one group and actually surviving against the undead, split, every man on their own.​

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Half an hour later, it was over. Corpses littered the flat, cold ground, most of whom had been trying to flee before Salthar's forces had cut them down. In the aftermath, Salthar surveyed the battlefield for his brother, wondering whether an Imperial or a filthy Nord had been in command of the pitiful army. Not one to disappoint,Vengar came striding out from behind a group of skeletons, holding an Imperials' head up in triumph. " He barely even put up a fight" the Orcish armoured vampire laughed. Salthar joined in, and the cold, dead laughter of the two vampires echoed across the snow covered hills as necromancers and fellow vampires went about raising the dead.​

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Later in the day, the army, swelled by easily eight hundred new soldiers, continued to move, this time towards Whiterun. Salthar kept their true target to himself. He wasn't paranoid, but he didn't want even a hint of their next location to reach the enemy. The vampires did not notice, however, the brown armoured warrior slinking off towards the trees, and his horse.​

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"If you throw one more snowball, I'm going to throw you!" Threatened the Khajiit vampire. This only served to cause another ball of snow to hit him full in the back. He laughed and turned to the thrower of snowballs. Sonja stood between Voraen and BlackStorm, both of whom were grinning widely. Since their conflict with the Dawnguard trackers, the three of them had become fast friends. Madrars' only worry was what Salthar's reaction would be to the young woman. Vengar had warned him about the vampire sorcerers intense hatred of the Nords as a whole.​

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"What has you thinking so hard, my friend?" A feminine voice asked from behind him. Madrar grinned, and realized that Voraens' training had paid off, he'd barely heard the petite Nord come up behind him.​

"Just thinking, we must be catching up to Salthar's army by now..and he doesn't exactly...like your race" the Khajiit vampire explained, smiling down at the woman. BlackStorm, walking past the pair, snorted and shook his scaled head "doesn't like is an understatement" the Argonian said, continuing on. Voraen spared her a pitying look, before moving ahead.​

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Sonja turned to him "Madrar...what should I expect?" Although he didn't want to frighten the woman, he cared about Sonja, maybe more than he should admit. He couldn't bring himself to lie to her.​

"I don't know. But Salthar will not be pleased to see a Nord in his camp, and his reaction could be..in the category of homicidal rage" Sonja nodded, and Madrar grew to respect her even more. Most people, mortal or vampire would wet their breeches when faced with the rage of a vampire lord.​

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They reached a small cave, at which they could spend the night. Their final night apart from the undead would be spent there, as the temperatures were dropping rapidly, and and though the young woman wouldn't admit it, she was shivering uncontrollably. The three vampires built a small campfire at the back of the cave, and Madrar brought back a small deer fro their meal. Well, Sonja's meal anyways. As the three stood watch, Voraen was the first to ask the unsettling question " how do you think Salthar will react?" Blackstorm only shook his head again, and turned to look at the thick snow falling outside.​

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" My gut instinct is to run in the opposite direction with her. maybe- maybe once Salthar realizes she's not a vampire, he'll kill the both of us" The Khajiit unburdened himself on the Bosmer. Instead of his trademark smirk, the wood elf nodded solemnly. " I can't tell you, and I definitely can't tell Salthar what to do, but I think that old high elf cares for you more than you know" Madrar stared at him curiously, but Voraen would say no more on the subject. Although the wood elf's strange comment had certainly confused him, Madrar took small comfort the fact that Salthar might not tear his head off. Of course, that meant nothing for Sonja's well being. She was neither a vampire nor in Salthar's good graces. As he watched the woman sleep, he became aware that he would go to extraordinary lengths to make sure she went unharmed.​

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The next day, the snow had died down enough for the three of them to move on with the final leg of their journey. Snow fell lightly and (to the annoyance of the vampire) the sun reflected off of the blankets of white stuff. Soon however, they saw spirals of smoke, from where Madrar assumed the shore city of Dawnstar was. They reached the ruins of the town an hour later. After trekking through the burnt and smoldering wreckage, they came upon Salthar's army. It looked like they were just getting ready to move out,as vampire ran back and forth, tearing down tents, and strapping on weapons. They managed to get the location of the command tent from a younger vampire.​

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When they arrived, one of the guards told them they were expected. Whether that was a good thing, or their death sentence, the Khajiit wasn't sure. When BlackStorm and Voraen made to enter the tent as well, one of the Ebony armoured vampires stepped forward, his hand outstretched to stop them. "Not you," he said coldly, "only him and her" gesturing at Madrar and Sonja. Trading uneasy glances, the pair entered the large tent, Madrar's eyes easily making out the robed and hooded form of Salthar Vivarian. The vampire lord stood at the rear of the tent. " So...I spare your life, take you into my coven, and this is how you repay me?" The Altmer's voice was hostile, on the line between exploding into murderous rage, and when he came out of the shadows, his eyes bored into Madrar, like a pair of burning, furious spears.​

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Madrar took a cautious step back, keeping himself between Salthar and Sonja. The Khajiit vampire heard foot steps behind him, and turned to see Vengar Vivarian, who'd stopped just inside the tent and was glancing cautiously between the two of them. Although the Altmer vampire looked like he would like nothing more than to dismember both Madrar and Sonja, he suddenly slumped "I will spare your lives for now" the vampire lord said coldly, "but if I see you again, you will die....now get out" Madrar didn't need to be told twice. He turned on his heel, half walking half -dragging the woman behind him. He heard boots crunching in the snow behind him, and Vengar's voice " Madrar, wait!" He called, holding up a bottle tinted red.​

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" I just wanted to give this to you...drink it when you're ready" He frowned in confusion, but Vengar continued " The drink will explain everything...and..Salthar cares for you as he would a son" at Madrar's incredulous look, Vengar said " he will remember that..before the end" Madrar and Sonja said their farewells, before leaving the undead camp. As the two companions moved into the snow field, the ground shook under the boots of the undead.​

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To Be Continued.​

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[Madrar]

Chapter Fourteen:Council of War and Dissent in the Ranks​

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"My lords, I beg of you, put aside your differences for the duration of this crisis!" Koris said, for what must have been the fifth time that day. They were in the Jarls palace, Dragons Reach, in the city of Whiterun. The DawnGuard and several hundred of the vampire hunting organization had arrived a week before. So had General Tullius, with the vast majority of the Imperial Legions operating in Skyrim. His opponent, Ulfric StormCloak, had also arrived, which caused the tensions in Whiterun to rise to a boiling point. Koris had barely been able to get the two get a ragtag army together to attempt to stop the Undead outside of Dawnstar. Ever since the army had departed, almost a week ago, the two leaders had been at each others throats.​

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A day ago, the scout Koris had sent along to observe the battle had reported back, informing the DawnGuard leader that the army had been eliminated. Upon hearing this, both the Imperial and the Nord had started pointing fingers and shouting accusations. That left Koris to be the sole voice of reason, along with Jarl Balgruuf, who was trying mightily to keep the conversation from devolving into a fistfight. Ulfric opened his mouth to respond to a particularly cutting remark by the Tullius, when Dinah Kahstor, Koris' Redguard second in command slammed a fist down on the sturdy wooden table. Bringing sudden, if momentary silence to the war room. "You two are acting like children!" the dark skinned, short haired man glared at the the Nord and Imperial equally. "This threat isn't minor, and it isn't going to stop in Skyrim, this threatens the entire empire. but before that ,all of Skyrim, every man, woman and child is dead"​

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Both leaders stood rock still, both looking furious, but also, Koris could tell they were seriously thinking about Dinah's speech. Finally, general Tullius nodded, sighing "for the sake of the Empire, I will fight with the DawnGuard and the...Stormcloaks" after a few more seconds, Ulfric nodded as well​

"if the Empire is going to fight, so shall we" he declared. Koris released a barely audible sigh of relief, and moved to the large map in the center of the table. "So, to business; the enemy has taken both Dawnstar and Morthal,and we believe that they are marching on Markarth and the other settlements in the Reach." A thoughtful silence followed, with each of the commanders studying the map, Tullius said​

"I have several camps in the Reach, well provisioned and well armed, they..may be able to harry the enemy on their way to Markarth, the only problem may be the Forsworn forces in the area"​

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Ulfric was nodding, "those savages have always given us trouble in the past, but we too have camps in the area" neither leader looked pleased to learn that their enemy had camps in the Reach, although they didn't look surprised, either. "Leave the Forsworn to my men, they may be able to win them over to our side" When Ulfric looked like he might interrupt, Koris continued " This is no time to bring up past differences" and the Nord sighed and nodded his agreement. Koris only hoped that the improvised alliance would last long enough for the vampires and their forces to be defeated. He rather doubted it, but didn't want to crack the fragile truce between the Empire and the Stormcloaks by bringing it up.​

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It was well past midnight when the leaders decided to turn in for the night. Final orders had been sent, messengers dispatched, and guards posted.​

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Salthar snarled with annoyance as yet another fireball roared by over head, giving the night temporary illumination. The ball of fire exploded somewhere amid the ranks of the undead ,setting a dozen or so of the creatures on fire. He, his brother, and several of the more prominent vampires were in a large command tent,which had been set up in the ruins of Karthwasten. The undead had destroyed the small settlement three days before, but attacks and ambushes by both Forsworn and allied StormCloak/Imperial forces had damaged their numbers enough that they'd been forced to stop their so far deadly advance.​

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The petite, trembling, female Breton that now stood before Salthar had been responsible for the armies' forward battalions. Those groups had almost entirely been destroyed by the first of the Forsworn attacks, and further damaged by ambushes when they'd tried to make their way to the city of Markarth. " Are you telling me, Lillith, that my forces have been destroyed by some filthy, stone-axe-wielding primitives!?" He bellowed. Lillith trembled and stuttered for a few moments, her yellow eyes searching the faces of the assembled vampires.​

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Not one of those vampire spoke up, in fact, a few went so far as to smirk at her pitiful expression. In a coven, vampires, especially high ranking vampires, like the ones that were assembled in the command tent would often use a combination of political and literal backstabbing to remove their opponents. This is why Lillith wore such an expression of desperate misery. She knew that even if she could deflect the blame from her own shoulders, she would still lose her position in the coven, and be reduced to no more than slightly more importance of a foot soldier.​

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" Please, my lord, it was a lapse in judgement I should have sent some scouts ahead or-" the vampire lord cut her off with a quick slice of his hand through the air. " You failed, and there is only one reward for failure, Lillith" perhaps the woman knew what was coming, because she broke down into complete hysterics, shrieking and sobbing, as he made another, discreet gesture and a pair of his Ebony clad guards moved in from the shadows of the tent. The failed commander's eyes bulged upon seeing the weapons that would deliver her death ,and she struck out, knocking one soldier backwards. He quickly recovered, grabbing the small Breton vampire's arms, and holding them at her sides. One swing of the axe later, and all resistance ceased.​

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" Burn the body" Salthar ordered coldly. As the headless corpse was dragged outside to be disposed of, he rose his voice " let this be a warning to the rest of you: I will not accept ignorance as cause for incompetence" the assembled vampires were silent, but he knew that they understood completely. The Altmer locked eyes with a tall red haired Imperial vampire " Lucius, congratulations, you've just been promoted" Lucius stepped forward and dipped a bow, his long, straight red hair falling about his shoulders as he did so. " Thank you, my lord.You will not be disappointed"​

" I hope not, for your sake" was the quiet response. Swallowing nervously, the Imperial left the command tent, to take over what was left of Lilliths' former battalions.​

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Sighing, Salthar turned back to the remainder of his commanding vampires. "Is there anything else?"​

A single vampire stepped forwards, bowing once. " my lord, we've discovered a small group of Forsworn that have refused to ally with the DawnGuard, he is named Martin Desronnes" Salthar nodded ,satisfied that they may have an ally in the Forsworn. " I wish him turned, once he is, a select few of you will stay to supervise him"​

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Three days later, Martin Desronnes was firmly in command of the situation in the Reach. Salthar had made certain that enough experienced vampires were around him to eliminate the young vampire should he attempt to usurp power. Then the undead were heading out once again towards the city of Whiterun.​

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[Madrar]

Endgame​

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" I can literally hear your brain working" Sonja said from behind him. Madrar smirked and turned. Both were trying to keep the conversation light, but there was no denying their predicament. They had holed up in a rundown old shack, and Madrar had a serious dilemma on whether or not to drink the blood of Salthar. On one hand, he wanted to understand his former master's hatred for Nords. On the other, he was almost frightened of what he would find out. " When I know what Salthar knows...if I drink this, his memories, and his pain will be my pain.." Sonja frowned, not understanding, but Madrar knew more of the Altmer's painful past than he wanted too.​

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He regarded the bottle with more than a little apprehension, wondering how long, this would take, and, more frighteningly, what he would see. The petite Nord woman laid a delicate hand on his arm " this could save the people of Skyrim" Madrar sighed, and nodded removing the cork. The blood had less scent than that of humans, the Khajiit vampire realized, and hesitantly, he tipped the bottle back, swallowing the thin, cold blood. 'I really hope this works...' he thought, but almost as soon as the thought occurred to him, he knew the blood had taken effect. His vision faded away, replaced by a slightly blurred vision of someone else, Salthar presumably.​

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A tall female Altmer, with long golden hair smiles at him as he casts the completes the last of a grueling and punishing test. The sun, which had just been reaching it's zenith at the beginning of the trails was now nearly set. Salthar bows as the woman in front of him, wearing the gold and black of the organization that Salthar has worked for the past forty years of his life to join. "Welcome to the Thalmor" she says, handing a pair of hooded robes to him. What seemed like a blink, and Madrar-Salthar was now on a bloodied battle field, elves and men slashing and stabbing at one another. A Khajiit lays on his side, pierced by many arrows and bleeding from many sword wounds. What seemed like a long time, the landscape of Falkreath, in Skyrim appeared. Other Justiciars are assembled around him, and in front of the group, a Nord family kneels, Talos amulets thrown on the ground in front of them. The blades of the elves chopped down on the exposed Nords necks, beheading them. " This is what happens to heretics" Salthar shouts, pointing to the headless corpses. ​

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Later. A woman, pale, Altmer, long golden hair, falling to well past her shoulders approaches. " You know what I am now...do you still feel the same way about me?" The woman's face is clearly troubled, almost frightened of his answer. " Of course, I'm more than willing to spend eternity with you, my love" is the Thalmor Sorcerers' response. ​

Later, feeling like at least ten years to the Khajiit vampire. Terrible pain and fury, Salthar. Staring at the ruined body of the only woman he's ever had any romantic feelings for. Blood sprays as his fine ebony sword cuts through the living like butter. But it's not enough, it's never enough. And, it will never be enough, not until all of Skyrim is awash with Nordic blood. ​

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Gasping, the Khajiit vampire came out of the trance. He looked at the Nord woman beside him, and announced "He's not going to stop..not until every last Nord is a corpse" Sonja's face drained of blood, and seeing as see was indeed a Nord, the news was worse for her. "I won't let him hurt you..I swear it" she smiled, almost sadly. "Madrar, you have to leave, you have to warn the allies" Madrar sighed, and shook his head. The two of them had argued long and hard about the topic of helping the allies. After all, Salthar had treated the Khajiit like his own son, and he'd had an excellent opportunity to kill Sonja a few days ago. "You know I can't-" but he dropped his argument when he saw the sad understanding in her eyes.​

"I understand, but just because he let us live once, doesn't mean he'll let us live again...you must go"​

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Madrar sighed and nodded "I'll come back for you...stay safe" Sonja kissed him, a warm, firm kiss on his cold, dead lips. " We'll survive this...meet me outside Riften when you've finished...don't get yourself killed, vampire" with that, she turned and began marching in the general direction of Riften. Madrar watched her for a while, before turning the opposite direction and heading towards Whiterun. Once he arrived, his news and appearance was far less than welcome. At all times during his 'audience' with the alliance leadership, he had no less than a dozen crossbows trained on him at all times. More than a little unpleasant.​

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After he'd delivered his message, he was, ordered out of the city, never to return, on pain of death. That proved to be impossible, as the dead had arrived, skies darkened with unnatural black clouds, and all soldiers were called to the plain outside Whiterun. Madrar was shoved in a dark, smelly cell, where he stayed, at least for the duration of the battle, hoping that the generals' had taken his warning to heart.​

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The armies arrayed against each other were massive. Nord Stormcloaks, Imperial Legionairres, and a mixed bag of Dawnguard warriors and mages . The sea of blue, red and brown stood steadfast in front of the city of Whiterun, it's gates closed, surviving refugees hiding-no- cowering in their houses as the ground shook with the approach of the dead. The vampiric generals assembled their forces in a semi-circle, facing the allies with a menacing wall of rotting flesh and bones. Salthar smiled coldly from his place, safely in the middle area of the army, surrounded by his ebony armoured guards. With a single thought, he sent the undead into a charge, and the living, to their credit, held their ground, setting shields and readying weapons.​

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The crash as the two forces came in contact was unbelievably loud, but that was nothing compared to the carnage of blades cutting apart flesh, and maces caving in skulls, with the roll and boom of spells over it all. Screams and battle cries from the living, ghastly silence from the undead, except for the Draugr, who chanted in the long forgotten tongue of Dragons. So far, the two forces seemed to be evenly matched, and the vampire lord cast his will forwards, urging the undead to completely circle around to the rear of the allied army. This thinned the center, inviting a charge, which a large portion of the allied army chose to do, rushing forwards, banging weapons on shields and shouting battle cries. Salthar smirked in satisfaction, and nodded to his brother, who lead a group of mounted ,skeletal knights into the fray, cutting down soldiers like a farmer cuts wheat in the fields.​

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The battle raged back and forth, with the allies winning small victories here and there, and the sea of the dead began to lessen little by little. Finally, the lines were once more even as the two sides killed each other with greater vigor than they had at the start of the battle. Eventually, the leader of the Dawnguard, and the leader of the vampires came face to face. Koris Madrigan stopped a healthy meter away, his sword up and ready to parry or slice. Salthar drew himself up to his full height, lifting his ebony sword and smiling slightly. "So I finally have the pleasure of meeting the great General Madrigan..."​

The Breton snarled, ripping his helmet off, to give him a clearer view. "I hope you've made your peace with the world, monster, because I am about to remove you from it!" he exclaimed.​

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The vampires features twisted in scorn. " Fool! You think my death will accomplish anything? Even if I die, you mortals will always be scared of the shadows in the Dark. We will always be among you. And I will become a true god" It was clear there was no need for further words among the two of them. They rushed at one another, ebony and steel clashing against one another in a blistering blur. Salthar stepped back a single foot, swiping his chest at chest level, but the Breton was much too clever to be cut down so easily. The vampire then surged forwards, striking upwards with his blade, only to be stymied once again by Koris' blade. A clearing was made for the two combatants, the living moving aside in awe of their commanders skill, the dead moving aside at their master's unspoken command.​

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After several more moments of furious blade clashing, Salthar swung his blade low, knocking aside a low stab. However, Koris brought his blade up and thrust it through the vampires heart. All eyes were riveted to the scene of the master vampire impaled through the heart by a mere mortal. Salthar himself, however only smiled, and congratulated "oh, well done" before collapsing backwards, presumably quite dead. All across the battlefield, skeletons and zombies collapsed, released from their animation by the death of their master. All but the Draugr collapsed, and those ancient warriors while out numbered, fought to the bitter end.​

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Vengar Vivarian had been carving his way through the Stormcloak soldiers in pursuit of Ulfric Stormcloak. He had a score to settle with that one, and would let no other settle it for him. His long blade was wet with blood when he finally encountered Ulfric, surrounded by his guards. Those guards, upon seeing a blood-mad vampire come at them howled praise to Talos and charged, only to be carved apart. When Salthar was defeated, four guards, Galmar, and Ulfric had been the only survivors out of a dozen guards. The vampire felt a tearing wrench in his chest, and he lowered his guard enough for several axes to cut him badly along his sides and chest. Then, he shrieked. However, it was no normal wail of grief, but rather a high-pitched whistle, imbued with magical power and pure hatred.​

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Galmar and Ulfric, at the back of the group, were spared, but all four of Ulfric's men dropped their battle-axes, crying out as the wave of unholy sound ruptured their eardrums. After moments of crying out and squirming while bleeding out of their eyes, ears and noses, the four Nords expired. Vengar Vivarian, however was nowhere to be seen. This was the case with many vampires, however, as soldiers or groups of soldiers would be fighting the fanged creatures one moment, only to find that the vampires had escaped the next.​

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Koris Madrigan, was victorious against the leader of the vampire army, but that didn't mean he could throw down his weapons and relax just yet. A rush of Draugr Wights caught the normally wary general by surprise with their ferocity and determination, forcing him to call several nearby soldiers to assist him. However, when the last of the Draugr fell, and indeed, that elite group had been the last, there was no sign of Salthar Vivarians' body. Dinah Kahstor emerged from the crush of people, grinning nearly ear to ear. When he caught the expression on his leader and friends face, however, that smile vanished in the blink of an eye.​

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"What is it sir? We've won!" But Koris was already shaking his head. Salthar hadn't been worried about dying. He'd never been even slightly concerned during their fight, even going so far as to congratulate him when Koris' sword had pierced the abominations heart. "We'll always be among you" echoed the general, his shoulders slumping as he finally realized what the Altmer vampire had meant. Dinah's showed that he didn't understand, but what he did understand was that something wrong had gone happened. Not the great victory that it appeared, but rather, it seemed almost inconsequential, with a rather sinister undertone.​

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Ulfric Stormcloak approached a group of Imperial Legionairres, having replenished his guards from surrounding soldiers. General Tullius stood there, his face stained with dirt and smoke, his sword firmly in his hand, although it was clear to all that only sheer will power kept the older man from simply toppling over right then and there. "Do you want to resume the war now, or later?" the rather imposing Jarl of Windhelm growled, brandishing his own sword. Tullius' men bristled, ready to protect their general to the last, but Tullius tossed down his sword. "I have no wish to fight you, Ulfric. I never have." Then he closed his eyes and sighed " The Empire will recognize Skyrim as an independent country"​

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A stunned silence followed this announcement. Ulfric finally gathered his bearing enough to nod gratefully. "A wise decision, general" he remarked, although truthfully, the Jarl didn't know how much fight he had left in him. Tullius nodded, somewhat bitter, but he said "give me a couple of months to regroup my legion. We'll be gone by the end of the year"​

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True to his word, by the month of Evening Star, the Treaty of Windhelm was signed, naming Skyrim as an independent country, and at peace with the Empire. Two months after that, the Moot was held, and Ulfric Stormcloak was chosen as High King of Skyrim.​

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Madrar escaped the prison cell shortly after the battle, and joined Sonja just outside of Riften. The two of them fled into Cyrodiil, determined to live out the rest of their lives (or hers' at least) in peace and quiet.​

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Salthar Vivarian regarded the seas with a slight smile. He was aboard an Aldemeri Destroyer, bound for the Isles and Alinor. His younger brother, for once out of his heavy armour, wearing only a light grey tunic and pants stood beside him. "Is it over?" He asked, nodding back towards the general direction of the shores of Tamriel. "Over?" Salthar echoed incredulously "Hardly, my brother, this is just the beginning. It's best to give the mortals a little time to think on their actions"​

 

[Dovakiin98]

Man,I missed alot when I was gone.