Private Into The Dark

Oriton moved silently through the thick snow and weaved effortlessly through the trees around him. The sun had set now, the air was at its coldest, and the only noise that could be heard was that of two pairs of footsteps moving through the forest. Oriton had been following an Altmer through the forest for at least thirty minutes now after picking up an unusual scent that mortals could not have. The man was a Vampire. Orition had realised that soon enough and he was interested to see where he was going in such a hurry. The Elf was obviously older and more experienced than him, that worried Oriton, but only slightly. He had been skilled in the art of stealth and duel-wielded combat far before he had been bitten a year ago. If this Elf is going to a coven I am surely dead, but I need to know where he is going, maybe it is something of use to me.

Oriton continued to stalk this man until the silence around them was broken. Somewhere not too far away there were people, and a lot of them at that. The Imperial came to a gradual halt and moved behind a nearby tree while gripping the Khatana's on his back. The Elf soon began to slow down as well and seconds later he was pulling a bow from his back and notching an arrow into place.

"What are you doing?" Oriton whispered to himself as his eyes followed the Altmer's movements.

There was a moment of intense concentration before the man suddenly sent the arrow flying off into the distance. He began to whisper to himself as he strained his Vampiric eyes to examine what he had shot at. A deer maybe? No, this is a Vampire we are talking about, it's a person he is shooting at.

"Crap..." The Elf said before putting the bow over his shoulder and onto his back once more. Then, with one more curse he ran off in the direction he had shot at.

Oriton let out the breath he had been holding in during all of this and pulled his Katana's from their 'X' shape on his back. He began to moved quickly, following the Altmer's footprints and dragging his weapons along the floor so they left a deep trail in undergrowth. After not even ten seconds of running he stopped once more to witness that very Vampire being head-butted by an Argonian. The lizards horns dug themselves into the Elf's eyes and he bent over clutching his bleeding eye sockets. Oriton winced at this but continued to watch as the Argonian finished the Altmer off with two three-sixty turns. One landing a firm punch in the Elf's face and the other sending a blade through his chest. Another Vampire? Surely he is, that punch was far too powerful for a mere man to achieve.


Acting on instinct, Oriton suddenly jumped out from his current position and began to sprint towards the Vampire. Oriton did not use his Vampiric speed, he did not need it, he was capable of taking out this Argonian on his own. He hoped. His Katana's were still being dragged through the snow when he suddenly brought them up in front of him. He was about to take a swing at the Argonian as he drew ever closer when his fathers words took centre-stage in his mind. You can kill all the men you want with these blades, but if it is not done out of honour you are no more victorious than the corpse on the floor is. Oriton's eyes widened slightly. He skidded to a stop in front of the Argonian-Vampire and moved his swords into a cross, trapping the lizards neck in the 'V' shape that his Katana's had created.

"What is your name?" Oriton said in a low growl of a voice.

Zatharka looked over the injured Stormcloaks, and purred. He had definatley saved four lives and helped delay Arkay's hands. And maybe a chance to properly save them, Zatharka thought. The old monk sat down looking over his work. And Zatharka remembered why he gave up the life of a warrior.

But then he thought he heard it, or correctly felt his ears twitch. A depression on his soul, and Zatharka knew someone has been slain. Zatharka rushed through the camp trying to listen to the air, Zatharka's robes swirled around his legs as he traversed the unfamiliar camp.

After his introduction with the old monk, Simus led him to the medical tent and then snuck off to his own tent. He opened the flap to the command tent, emerging into the main room which was essentially his office. A long table covered in maps and documents was in the middle of the room with his desk between this table and the far wall. He went to his desk and was gretted by a small stack of paper.

Simus hated paper. All Stormcloak Offiers, from Sergeants to Captains to Generals, got plenty of paper. After all, they were the only people Ulfric trusted to keep up with the day to day adminsitration invonved in running an army. As a the commander of over a hundred men and the leader of this camp, Simus got even more paperwork than usual. Enlistment papers, supply requisitions, shipping and recieving logs, patrol reports, local bounties, distress missives. Everything had to be read, checked, stamped and signed by him and going off with his daughter to fight vampires was a serious distraction from all this paper.

Six candles divided into two three prong sticks lit Simus' desk as he worked. First off was the processed requisitionn orders. He could tell they were reviewed by Galmar Stone-Fist himself because they were smeared in blood. Galmar hated paperwork and hated it when Ulfric trusted him with "all this planning nonsese" as he called it. Simus had given up long ago on helping his old friend see the importance of keeping records. Instead, he just did most of Galmar's paperwork for him, or had Friga do it. Or Alice. Those two were the only ones Simus trusted with paperwork, considering half of his men weren't educated enough to follow through with it and many couldn't even read.

As he was looking over the new requisitons from Windhelm, his brow furrowed at one particular memo.

Iron swords. I told Ulfric no iron swords. We don't need any more iron swords. I specifically asked for steel swords. Iron swords aren't good enough for our mission out here. Certainly not now. Iron greatweapons are okay, but I've already got plenty of those thaks to the last shipment of iron swords we got. I had to melt them down and reforge them into greatswords. By Talos that took a long time. Ralof and I were at the forge for two days.

He moved onto the next one.

Wonderful. More arrows. We don't need any more arrows. Certainly not iron ones. I ask for lamp fuel and he sends me arrows. Well, I'm sure someone's drowning in lamp fuel by now.

Simus looked over to the unlit lamp on his desk (this is the same kind of lamp Geenie lives in in Alladin. You fill it up with oil and light it and it produceds a small flame that lasts several hours. Just to clarify.) It had been six weeks since he had gotten any fuel for it and his last two shipments had been messed up. First time it was petty soul gems. The second time it was salted beef. Now it was iron arrows. He sighed and facepalmed himself, rubbing his right hand down his face in frustration.

I swear Ulfric needs to chop the idiots who are working supply. I'm not sure what's worse: being drowned in regulations by the Legion, or having no regulations while in the Stormcloaks.

Simus shuffled through the remaining requisitions, finding several more supply mix-ups and doing his best to writh polite, civil requests for correction. Ulfric was stil his superior and it was still a bad idea to yell at him in print. After he saw a shipment of arrows and leather strips but now bowstrings however, he lost it. He was done scribbling a furious letter to Ulfric demanding the incompotent idiots in supply come to The Reach and explain to him why they were giving him such a headache when his flap opened up and a young soldier came through. The boy had a panicked look in his eyes.

"Captain! Captain, there's an emergency! We're under attack sir! We need you to come outside now!"

Simus reamined at his desk and held a hand up. "Woah, slow down son. Take a deep breath and start over. What kind of attack?"

"A high elf sir!" the boy panted. "I-I don't know how he got into camp. I didn't see him come in sir. No one did. He attacked your argonian friend but he killed him. Just ripped the elve's eyes out. Sir, I think that elf was a vampire."

"He might have been." Simus said calmly. "My argonian friend is a vampire too, but it's okay. He's not here to hurt anyone. Why don't you show me where this attack was so I can see it for myself?"

The young soldier led Simus out of the command tent to where Jeroo and the body of the Altmer was. The camp was on full alert now and everyone was wondering what to do. They would kill Jeroo if Simus didn't bring order.

Arillious had woken up.

He was face first in a plate of his half eaten food.

He looked up at the sky, and saw a giant ball of fire hurling straight his way. Wide eyed, he looked down.

His father was sitting across the table next to him, with the usual stern look on his face.

"Get DOWN SOLDIER!" he screamed, before pushing him backwards.

On his back, he saw 4 more fireballs in the sky.

He flipped around, and started to Army crawl toward a nearby tent.

One of the fireballs hit the walls of the fortress.

Arillious, nervous now, stood up and started to run, but fell soon after.

Face first in the ground, giant arms picked him up.

His brother was right in his face, "What are you waiting around for? Dying on the ground isn't dying for anything, brother."

He pushed Arillious back first into the tent, before the flaps of the tent closed, he could see the rest of the fireballs hit where his brother was standing.

He fell back on a bed, then became unconscious.

(OOC: This is Arillious in kind of a drunken dream, he was half sleepwalking/half being drunk and seeing things. He is literally in a bed in some tent now.)

(OOC: lol drunken Arillious. That's fine. There are several vacant tents around the camp that he can fall into.)

After Jeroo killed the Altmer Vampire, Jeroo began digging through the corpse's pockets, looking for answers as to why the random attack had happened. But prior to doing this he smelled another vampire in the distance. Jeroo-Shei wasn't sure if this vampire was going to take an attempt on his life or not, but it didn't matter either way to him.

Within a minute of looting the corpse, Jeroo-Shei felt a folded piece of paper in the pockets. Simus and the stormcloaks sponteanously rushed to the scene of the attack and circled around it holding torches and weapons, word must've finally made its way around the camp. Jeroo pulled out the paper from the pocket and unfolded the paper and read it, the note stated, "The Argonian thin-blood named Jeroo-Shei has displeased lord Molag Bal. This heretic is to be eliminated, no ifs, ands, or buts, Molag Bal wants his soul in couldharbour to serve him his deserved punishment. However, without any Oblivion Gates nearby, Molag Bal cannot materialize on Nirn in his physical form. We must make our lord's job easier; otherwise we'd be heretics like this poor imbecile. The last time I saw him, he was heading to some camp in The Reach with a bunch of Stormcloaks. Kill him and trap his soul into the Black Soul Gem I gave you. Do NOT enchant his soul into any object or I will have your head, do you understand?! After the bastard is dead bring the soul gem with his soul in it back here and I'll perform the ritual with it to Molag Bal's Mace on the Altar. Do not disappoint me! - S."

Jeroo-Shei then crumbled up the note and tossed it into the camp's fire. He then bent down and searched the corpse again, more thoroughly this time. After approxiamately 12 seconds of digging around in pockets and small bags, Jeroo felt the soul gem in the Corpse's satchel and pulled it out and examined it. "So it begins...." Jeroo mumbled to himself as he stared at the soul gem he was holding in front of his face.

But before he knew it, the same Vampire he smelled earlier was behind him with two katana swords trapping him in a "V" shape around his neck. The Imperial Vampire asked him viciously, "What is your name?". Unfortunately for the Imperial Vampire, Jeroo-Shei would sooner chop off his own head before tell a potential enemy his name. Instead, Jeroo-Shei bashed his lower back against the Imperial Vampire's stomach with immense momentum. As the Imperial got the wind knocked out of him and staggered back, Jeroo-Shei quickly locked his elbows firmly with the Imperial's, and wrapped his tail around the Imperial's left leg, he hauled the man's body up onto his back when their elbows were locked and flipped the thin-blood frontwards over his back which caused him to drop both of his swords.

Jeroo-Shei unsheathed his Katar from his thigh and pointed it at the Imperial Vampire like an arrow as the Imperial Vampire was laying on the ground. "Why do you need to know my name?! Didn't your 'lord' tell it to you?! Are you here to try and kill me as well?! Tell me YOUR name!! And give me a good reason why I shouldn't cut you down right now!!" Jeroo-Shei shouted loudly and ferociously at the new Vampire on the ground.

Winter sighed. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. She didn't feel like dealing with this right now, and wasn't about to wake up Lilumae for it either.
She glanced sideways at Alice and shrugged,
"You can hold her if you want. Unless you'd rather get involved in that mess." She gestured to the ongoing chaos once and then diverted her attention back to Lilumae, as if she was content to pretend it didn't exist.

"Do you really think singing will help? I... I used to sing to my sister. Lullabies. Years ago, now. She always said I had a lovely voice. But then, I bet she was just being nice..." Winter trailed off for a moment, her eyes glazing over, as if recalling something far away, but another stir from Lilumae brought her back to reality. Somehow, the small, tousled little redhead seemed to keep her on her guard and relaxed all at the same time. Perhaps she needed Lilumae more than she thought.

"Do you know 'Sing me to Heaven' by any chance? I used to sing that to my sister." Winter asked Alice, wondering what songs Alice might know.

Deluge looked at the moon when he felt a heavy magical presence; Edwin. "What were you telling that girl? Your dreams to dominate Tamriel and beyond? Asking her to join you as your 'queen'? Quite a farcical image, I must say."

"Don't mock me with your inquiries, Mage. This not of a joking manner, and I assure you one wouldn't suggest ridiculing Azura's will.." Deluge responded as his face went blank in that cold twisted way it did. "This is not a matter of intimidation, this is a matter of Azura, but by The Nines if I feel as if you are an obstacle..." He lifted Nahkriin to his face now, a dusty haze gathering around him. "I do not seek a queen, I seek the Black Star. I seek knowing beyond limitation, I seek sentience."

He looked the mage in the eyes for an instant, searching for something and then speaking. "You will be there. In the morning of the Frostfall, Morndas, the morn before the emperor's birthday and you will discover just how capable I am of everything you fear, you assume, or what you know. Then you will unearth your own secrets as I my own, and then we will duel." He stood and waited for a response, his back turned to Edwin.

Oritons lips stayed in a firm line and he looked up to see the tip of a blade pointed at him. Not a hint of emotions played across his face as the Argonian spoke to him.

"Why do you need to know my name?! Didn't your 'lord' tell it to you?! Are you here to try and kill me as well?! Tell me YOUR name!! And give me a good reason why I shouldn't cut you down right now!!"

"My Lord?" Oriton said with a slight growl, something that he couldn't help. He hated these traits that being a Vampire forced him to have. "Who is my lord meant to be? I will not plead for my life, cut me down now if you wish, but nothing will come of it."

Oriton breathed heavily as he lay on the floor. He knew the Vampire standing above him was faster, stronger, and all round more experienced than him. There was genuine fear dancing inside of his bones, but he was brave. The green of his eyes began to disappear in a cloud of red as he looked past the blade in his face and into the eyes of the Argonian. His fangs came into view as well, yet another trait he could not shake, and with another growl he spoke once more.

"Why was that Altmer trying to kill you. You are obviously dangerous." There was a bit to Oritons voice that he himself did not use very often. Then again, he did not speak very often either.

(OOC: I have Mab's permission to control her characters in this post but please, as always, let me know of any problems.)

Alice's eyes lit up at the mention of that particular song.

"Oh yes!" Alice said. "I love 'Sing Me to Heaven'. My mother would sing that very song to me as a lullaby. It always seemed to help me sleep better, and she sang it often enough to where I memorized it. Funny that you sang it to your sister, because I did the very same. She and I used to share a room together, right next to our parents' room. Whenever she got sad or lonely or had a bad dream she could come to me instead of waking mother. I would...I would hold her sing her to sleep after we talked about what was bothering her. My parents heard everything of course, but they didn't have to intervene. Letting me be an elder sister and all that..."

Alice's eyes started to sparkle. She wiped a few tears from them and supressed a sniffle.

"I'm sorry." She said with some mucous in her throat. "I'm sure little sisters are the last thing you want to talk about right now. I'm sorry I brought it up."

Winter got up from the bench, gently lifting Lilumae off of her. Alice took Winter's place, gently picking up Lilumae's head and placing it in her lap. Lilumae stirred at this but Alice was able to sooth her. She removed her gloves and cradled the little girl, using her right hand to hold her close and her left to stroke Lilumae's beautiful red hair.

"Don't leave me behind." Lilumae called in her sleep, whimpering and reaching out as Alice held her close.

"Lilu?" Alice whispered in the girl's ear. "It's Alice. You're in camp with Winter and I. You're safe. I'm right here and Winter's right beside me. We're not going to abandon you Lilu. We won't leave you behind."
Holding her thought, Winter refocused her attention on Lilumae as did Alice. Alice begain to sing the first two lines before Winter joined in

(OOC: blue is Alice, light blue is Winter, magenta is both singing together.)


"We're right here sweetie." Alice said, beeming down on the little girl. "There's a fresh bed and a warm pair of pj's for anyone who wants them. Let's tuck you in, shall we?"

Edwin smirked and raised an eyebrow skeptically as the somewhat crazy mage ranted at him about Azura, some kind of fortune telling, and a few others things. When the man was done Edwin grinned at him and said, in a mock serious tone, "Oh yes. I am sure things will happen just as you say. What do you think you are a seer? From my experience real seer's aren't as arrogant as you, my friend. And if you are going to come up with some random story to distract me, I'd advise making a more interesting one. That one was rather lacking in the creativity department." Edwin yawned, and smiled at the mage, "Well, I think I am done talking to you, seeing that I doubt I will get anything from you. Anything coherent that is." With a wink and a smile Edwin walked out of the mess tent, looking for a good spot to pitch his own tent.

He smiled as Arillious crawled by in front of him, the boy was obviously very drunk. Just as he found a good spot to pitch his tent, Edwin heard a large amount of ruckus coming from around the other side of the mess tent. Wondering what might be going on now he made his way towards the noise. As he got there, Edwin saw Jeroo pinning down some blonde man, as well as a dead altmer and several Stormcloaks, including Simus, standing by and watching as the two 'combatants' exchanged words. Edwin decided to stay in the shadows for now, and he waited in the shadow of the tent, sword drawn just in case violence ensued the talk and Jeroo needed help against any other attackers.

Simus was furious to find not one but two strange men in his camp. Plus, they were vampires and that made things worse. He didn't care that one of them was dead, they shouldn't be in here and his men weren't doing their job since most were drunk. That was the downside of not having a source of fresh water handy: the only abundent liquids were beer and mead and that meant men got drunk.

In fact, he himself wasn't far from being drunk.

He and a dozen men surrounded the fight, weapons and torches drawn. Simus himself held a ball of thick, oily fire in each hand, daring either of them to attack him.

His presence didn't calm the brawl between the vampires, so on his command Elsie casted a turn undead spell on both Jeroo and the imperial vampire. Not enough to hurt either of them, just enough to get their attention and maybe daze them for a couple of seconds. Once the spell subsided, Simus spoke up.

"Both of you are going to step away right now and stand at attention. Otherwise, we're going to beat you both into submission and throw you outside the walls where you will remain, bound and gagged, until I feel like getting around to releasing you. Are we clear?"

Zatharka rushed out to find the group gathered around Jeroo and some stranger. Zatharka watched and had to fight down his revulsion when he saw the dead body. Nine preserve me, Zatharka thought. Finally the transformation is complete. Zatharka hadn't felt this feeling since he was a cub and killed his first sentinent being. It was another student in a sparring session, and Zatharka never forgot his face. Zatharka sensed someone else was watching from the shadows, but it was not his place to speak. The commander he met had spoken with the authority of a soldier. If they don't respect him they can respect me and the nine, Zatharka thought. The peaceful monk could not wait any longer he stepped from the shadows.

"By the nine! Please stop this. Why must you squabble like children? You definitely know better withered one." Zatharka turned from Jeroo and turned to the newcomer. "Come in here swinging your fine blades like a drunkard. You should feel ashamed."

"Both of you are going to step away right now and stand at attention. Otherwise, we're going to beat you both into submission and throw you outside the walls where you will remain, bound and gagged, until I feel like getting around to releasing you. Are we clear?"

As the Argonian cast his gaze on the apparent commander of the camp Oriton saw his chance. He rolled quickly to the side, grabbing his Katana's on the way and sprung to his feet. Then, in one fluent movement he slid his weapons back into their 'X' shaped position on his back and stood upright with his hands behind his back and turned to the commander.

"We are clear sir. I apologize for my intrusion on your camp, but something more important had caught my eye." Orition said with his usual, emotionless expression while he met gazes with the commander. His father, among many things had taught him to always respect authority.

Simus gave the young man a hard look.

"Is that so?" Simus asked, waving his men to stand down and go back to their duties. He could handle this. "Well I sure hope it was worth your time because you reek of death. Yeah, that's right. Everybody here can see that you're a vampire. You know what I do with vampires? I kill vampires, and I thoroughly enjoy it. The only exception being our scaily friend over here. On that subject, it looks like you just tried to kill him after your buddy botched the job. I don't tolerate mistreatment or attempted murder of my guests, certainly not in my own camp. You better have a good explaination, so get to it."

Simus glared at the young Imperial vampire as he waited for his response. He found it amazing that he was just able to sneak in here without anyone noticing. He would have to talk to Friga about tightening the guards at night.

Jeroo-Shei lowered his Katar from the Blonde Imperial Vampire's face and held it by his side. Then asked with a venomous tone as he leaned in closer to this Vampire, "Don't play stupid with me! You know damn well who I'm speaking of when I say 'your lord'!! Molag Bal! The Daedric Prince of Domination, Corruption, Vampirism, Slavery....and Sexual Molestation...." Jeroo-Shei paused and leaned closer into his face after the Imperial asked why he killed the Altmer, then spat the answer in his face, "He tried to assassinate me because he's one of Molag Bal's minions, and the so-called 'deity' wants to play with and torture my soul in his plane of Oblivion, Couldharbour. Why? because I killed a few worthless savage vampires!"

Jeroo-Shei grew more and more vicious as each second passed. He grasped the handle of his katar tighter pulled it towards the Imperial's throat (OOC: Like a sword about to slice someone's throat) for the purpose of intimidation and not harm, and spouted out, "And I know damn well that you're one of them, one of Molag's toadies come to 'purge the Heretic', just like that Elf was. How many more of you are hiding outside, huh?! Speak, you bastard!" finishing his sentence with the side of the Katar's blade pushed even closer to Oriton's throat, about a centimeter way from it.

Suddenly, Jeroo-Shei felt the blinding, burning light that was emanating from Simus' hand. It felt awful, it burned every part of his body, not necessarily physically, but magically and spiritually. It was using the warm forces of life, the sun, and Aetherius to agonize a dead, cold, creature of the night. Jeroo-Shei released his grip off of Oriton's collar and stood up, who was effected by this as well, and yelled loudly while covering his eyes and hunching over in excruciating pain, "AAGH! WHAT IN OBLIVION ARE YOU DOING, SIMUS?! STOP IT!"

The twisted spell was finally over, and Simus said angrily and sternly, "Both of you are going to step away right now and stand at attention. Otherwise, we're going to beat you both into submission and throw you outside the walls where you will remain, bound and gagged, until I feel like getting around to releasing you. Are we clear?" Jeroo-Shei felt as if he wasn't getting a fair treatment. A random fanatical, would-be Assassin working for a Cult of Molag Bal just intrudes into Simus' camp and tries to kill Simus' guest? And Simus is threatening to punish the both of them when Jeroo-Shei was innocent?! Where was the logic in that? Though, this was not enough to decommission Jeroo's trust in Simus, he expected this to be over good reason. The Khajiit monk from earlier came in and preached something about not arguing like children or something similiar of the sort, Jeroo wasn't really paying attention.

Afterwards, Simus permitted this man to explain himself. Jeroo-Shei stomped his foot on the ground out of anger, believing his treatment was unfair. "What?! This is clearly that previous Vampire's assistant! This fluffing Zealot is here to assassinate me for 'the almighty' Molag Bal, just like the other one tried to, and you're going to just let him lie to you as he 'explains himself'?! I know you're better than that Simus! Don't believe this fool's facade!"

Worst manipulator award goes to the lizard, Zahtarka laughed mentally. Even though he made a decent point Simus seemed keen on being completely unbiased. Zatharka thought about daedric princes now. Zatharka couldn't harbor hate for anything anymore. Oblivion take me one used to be a daedric champion, Zatharka thought, the memory not necessarily a bad one. Zatharka walked around the two to the dead body.

"In the end withered one. Bias clouds your eyes, this one is to young, khajiit thinks to truly be a problem," Zatharka whispered barely audible except to Jeroo. Zatharka knelt next to the body.

"As one commends yours soul to Atherius, blessing of Nine Divines upon you..." Zatharka place two septims over the ruined eyes of the altmer. The body started turning to ash, but Zatharka finished the last rights.

"Is that so? Well I sure hope it was worth your time because you reek of death. Yeah, that's right. Everybody here can see that you're a vampire. You know what I do with vampires? I kill vampires, and I thoroughly enjoy it. The only exception being our scaily friend over here. On that subject, it looks like you just tried to kill him after your buddy botched the job. I don't tolerate mistreatment or attempted murder of my guests, certainly not in my own camp. You better have a good explaination, so get to it."

Oriton when to speak, the respect he had for the commander was quickly overwhelmed by his anger, but the Argonian had obviously thought it was his moment to whine about his assumptions. Oriton stood down from 'attention' as the Vampire continued to shout at the Stormcloak commander.

"...Don't believe this fool's facade!" Was the Argonians last line. A line that made Oriton growl against his will and he snapped his neck in the lizards direction.

"In the end withered one. Bias clouds your eyes, this one is two young, khajiit thinks to truly be a problem," An apparent monk said as he approached the dead body of the Altmer, the only person here that Oriton believed to speak any sense.

"If I may commander," Oriton said, bowing his head slightly as he fought to show respect to the man. "but I do not know anything of the façade that your friend speaks of, and certainly not Molag Bal." the Imperials voice was snappy, and came out as more of a growl than anything else. This was aimed towards the lizard however, and he made that obvious. Oritons voice was very quiet usually and he rarely spoke unless he was confronted. "I think you have mistaken me for someone else, I work alone. I picked up the Altmer while on the road and I followed him for a few miles before we arrived here. I don't really have any interest in you whatsoever Argonian so I don't know why you think you are so special."

"In the end withered one. Bias clouds your eyes, this one is two young, khajiit thinks to truly be a problem" Zarthaka whispered quietly to only Jeroo-Shei. Jeroo-Shei sighed, he hated to admit it, but the Khajiit's words were right and wise.

After Zatharka knelt next to the Altmer Vampire's corpse and gave him his last rights. Jeroo-Shei addressed him as he got back up in a more calm voice this time and said, "You're right, Cat, as much as I hate admitting it. If it is not aware that the Elf came to kill me in Molag Bal's name....allow me to explain why.....

Jeroo-Shei then began to proceed with his said explanation, speaking mainly to Zatharka but doing so loud enough for Oriton to hear it, ".....About a day ago, I was following Simus back to this exact Stormcloak camp and we came across a couple of Thalmor. Being the unreasonable bastards those high elves are, it evolved into a battle. I know your type would typically frown upon Necromancy, but regardless of that, I own an undead minion I created myself using Necromancy to fuse dead bodies that resides in the Soul Cairn when I don't have need of it; I call it 'The Slasher'. The Slasher somehow conjured himself to the field of the conflict to alert me of the fact that Molag Bal, the patron deity of all Vampires, and the one whose former worship of mine was only surpassed by the Hist, wanted to punish me, for killing a numerous amount of other Vampires. Whether you believe this or not, the Daedra HIMSELF then possessed one of the Thalmor Soldier's corpses and informed me of how he was going to gruesomely punish me for my crimes. And the Altmer that intruded a few moments ago was with a cult of Molag Bal, I found a note on his body that said it all. I teared it up and tossed it into the fire so I cannot show you proof, but believe me, what I'm saying is true."

Jeroo-Shei then turned to everyone else and said loudly but calmly so everyone could hear, "Everyone, I am sorry for my childlike tantrum. I could be wrong about this man, maybe he is not a fanatic of that Daedra. However, the man did put swords around my throat, so that definitely doesn't exempt my suspicion of him."

Simus watched Jeroo as he had his little tantrum. For a mallenia old vampire he certainly acted like a child sometimes. He waited until Jeroo was done with his subsequent explaination and apology to the newcomer.

"You're right Jeroo" Simus said "he did put swords around your throat. You had reason to defend yourself. However, you still desturbed the peace in this camp and that carries penalties everyone has to face, aggressor or not. There's also the small matter of one of my men waking up after too much mead and having two mysterious holes in his neck. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Simus used his thumb to gesture to a small pit of sand and blood to his left. It was closed off by a small wooden fence wih a currently unlocked gate.

"You guys want to fight so bad? Go over there in the ring and slug it out. Beat each other's rotting brains out for all I care. Hell, we'll set up some mead and a bets table and make an evening out of it."

Simus dismissed the lava balls in his hands and put them across his chest.

"If that's not your aim however, keep your hands to yourselves or you're both going in irons. Enchanted ones that I made for people who can't behave and need to cool it. They also take your magic away and cause bad things to happen to people who try and break them."

He than looked to the newcomer.

"And you, why don't you drop the bullplops and tell me what you're really doing here. A little midnight snack maybe? You vampires do love hot blood after all."