18+ Immortal Bloodlines: The Legacy of Vladimir Blackthorn

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Cerberus65

Ancient One
Evening all.

This will be my first* attempt of creating a backstory for a character that I intend to play through (at some point) all of the games in the elder scrolls series with the same character; starting with the Elder Scrolls Online (already finished) and ending up within Skyrim. The story begins by following a nedic tribesman who will eventually be turned into a vampire after his entire tribe is slaughtered by his betrothed; the first vampire ever recorded in TES lore, Lamae Bal. The story will then follow through with the events of TESO and eventually (once played), Arena, Daggerfall, Morrowind, Oblivion eventually leading into a playthrough of the recently released Skyrim: SE.

*First attempt at a backstory spanning the entire series; previous entries were for Skyrim exclusively.

My character's name is Vladimir Blackthorn; he was a Nedic tribesman (born in ME 776) who is eventually seen and referred to as a Nord; Morally, my character will be the mortal enemy of the Daedric lord Molag Bal, and will be seen by many as a kind of a dark anti-hero (think Kain from the Legacy of Kain series); generally having a lack of interest / morals in regards to the affairs of humans, only involving himself when the fate of the world is at stake (Oblivion Crisis / Alduin's Return) and will pursue illegitimate activities (Thieves Guild/Dark Brotherhood) to pursue & fund his interests (under the guise of a nobleman) alongside his era spanning vendetta against Molag Bal. The story will take place some time after the events of Skyrim

I will be using the following pages for reference points throughout the beginning of this story:

http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Nede

http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Lamae_Bal

As with my other backstories, I will be taking a lot of creative freedom while trying to stay as lore-friendly as possible. Instances where the lore is unconfirmed or non-existent, (such as Lamae Bal's backstory) I will be filling in to make my character's story that more personal. I'm also a massive fan of vampiric literature so inspiration from the likes of Bram Stoker's Dracula and Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles will be paramount when it comes to this backstory.

This will be a work in progress over a series of weeks/months and as always I'm open to suggestions & constructive criticism, so feel free to comment should you feel anything could be improved upon.

I hope you enjoy!
 
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Cerberus65

Ancient One
Middas, 18th of Sun's Dusk, 4E 202
Nirn changes around us, we do not, therein lies the irony that eventually kills my kind. The date is the 18th of Sun's Dusk 4E 202; today marks the day that I am five thousand, two hundred and three years old. My name is Vladimir Blackthorn; although I've been known by many names throughout the ages: The Last Dragonborn, The Champion of Cyrodiil, The Vestige, just to name a few. I'm an immortal being that was born into darkness in ME 752; I pre-date both recorded history as well as any written reference to the term 'Vampire'. As the denizens of Nirn would have it, I'm an emotionless, bloodsucking demon, spawned from the very bowels of Oblivion. Totally incapable of reason and without remorse, save for an unholy lust for the lifeblood of Men & Mer; thankfully for them, they aren't wholly correct. To truly understand what I am, you have to understand the 'source' of where my blood came from; vampirism, or beings known as vampires are the spawn of The King of Rape & Lord of Brutality; Molag Bal. Although modern day vampirism is spread through diseases, the catalyst was an event that took place in the late Merethic Era.

The year was ME 752; I was 24 when it happened, then an alpha hunter of a Nedic tribe known as the Beolfag situated in northern Tamriel; in and around a vast forestland surrounding a body of water which would later become known as the hold of Falkreath in the land of Skyrim. The Nedes were a vast race of humans who inhabited most of Tamriel during the Merethic and First Era of recorded history; the Beolfag were one of many primitive, nomadic tribes that occupied the wilds of Skyrim during this time. I spent most of my mortaI life as a hunter for my tribe, I would predominantly hunt elk but anything from packs of wolves to stray mammoth were fair game. I was known (as a mortal man) as Volodymyr Beolfag, the alpha hunter who lead a small group of gatherers who provided for the tribe. While most of Skyrim's nomadic tribes were embroiled in bloody conflict with one another, clan Beolfag was fairly isolated in nature, not having much to do with the outside world. The tribe was made up of twenty three individuals (including myself and my pack) we had a crafter who provided the tribe with different types of tools and weaponry as well as numerous warriors who defended the women and the children from rival tribes and predators. The village elder was a well respected member of the tribe; he wasn't seen as a leader, but as a man whose wisdom and knowledge afforded him an unofficial position of power. The remaining people of importance in the tribe were the wisewomen of Arkay who were led by a priestess named Lamae.

Lamae was special; the way she spoke, even down to the way she moved, there was something different about her that wasn't easily identified. She was something of a rarity in the Merethic Era; an innocent, guileless girl with a natural beauty that was untainted by the savagery of the outside world; this is of course what had drawn me to her in the first place. We first met on a cold night during Hearthfire when the constellation of the Lady was at the highest point in the sky, down by what is now known as lake Ilinalta. Lamae was weaving a hairpiece made from a nightshade plant whilst looking at the constellations with complete awe in her eyes, as if she was weeping at the beauty of the night sky; as I drew closer towards the tribe, her gaze suddenly shifted onto me. I was on my way back from a day long hunt; the strong odour of earth and fresh blood loomed around me from the Elk I had around my shoulders, I expected her to be terrified and run at the sight of me, but she simply smiled as I walked past. Lamae had a routine of sitting next to the lake every night at the same spot, and it wasn't long that I adopted the same route to come back from after my hunts; it was at the end of Sun's Dusk, ME 752 when I finally worked up the courage to speak to her. I sat with her for hours, talking under the moonlight about how I felt about her, about how I followed certain routes while hunting purely to lead me back on a trail so I that could see her; I was stunned when I found out that she had been doing the very same ever since the first night that we had laid eyes on eachother. It was almost dawn when we finished talking; before I left, we shared one final embrace and I agreed to meet her on the road leading towards the Lady Stone in the middle of the lake the following evening. I returned to camp on my own, dumbfounded at the notion that she felt the same way as I; in over five thousand years, that was the last time I safely say that I felt true happiness.

I awoke several hours later to cries for help from the wisewomen of Arkay; they stated that a priestess had been taken out of the camp during the night and was presumed dead, due to the only evidence of their departure being a large pool of blood and a trail that led out of the camp; everybody was accounted for, except for Lamae. I began to panic, I quickly gathered my things and withdrew post-haste. I spent the following hours
on an exhausting hunt, tracking Lamae and the creature that took her through dense forestland and thick brush; sometimes the trail of blood was hard to follow and at times I thought I had lost the trail completely, until a few hours later when I finally came across some tracks of unknown origin. The indentation of the claws were unrecognisable; it looked like a three digit talon on a broad foot, akin to an eagles only extremely large with long, sharp claws on the end of each digit; what made the prints hard to distinguish was the fact that the creature was heavy, and clearly bipedal; the tracks and the surrounding area indicated that the creature had landed here with great force, indicating that it was alien in nature. Dusk was setting in, I had been following the strange tracks for hours and began to wonder if I would find Lamae alive; I was about to give up the search when I heard voices from further within the wood. I approached silently; two nomads were standing by a road over something which I could not make out; I drew my bow, not willing to take any chances and approached the Nomads slowly and silently. When I saw what they were looking at I released my bow and the arrow flew into a nearby tree, alerting the nomadic wanderers. They drew their swords, trying to find me in the dark woods; I took aim, nocked the arrow, held my breath and released; the arrow pierced through the eye of the smaller of the two nomads, killing him instantly. I followed up with a second shot, piercing the chest of the second nomad; he dropped his steel and fell to the ground, clutching his chest; I ran towards him, intent on getting an answer before he expired, but alas I was too late. I stood, and there laying by the side of the road was Lamae. She lay there, seemingly lifeless; as pale as the harshest snow, the only evidence of her defilement was a single droplet of blood on her forehead. She was still alive, the faintest glimmer of life hung in the balance. I raised her in my arms, and rushed back to my tribe as quickly as I could. Death was almost upon me upon our return; I was dehydrated and starving, I collapsed to the ground, the healers and wisewomen came rushing to the aid of Lamae and myself.

For three days I rested; I was told that I was lucky I didn't perish from exposure, and that I managed to get Lamae back in time to be tended to by the healers. I spent an hour or so collecting my thoughts, wondering what manner of creature had took her and what could of happened to her out there; I approached one of the younger healers who told me of Lamae's condition. There were signs of rape, with contusions and deep lacerations all over her body, she had been drained of her life's blood with barely enough left to keep her lingering; she had been taken, brutally and without mercy; a strong indication that the creature that had performed these heinous acts was the epitome of pure evil. Her violation was so savage that it is said that her blood-curdling screams are said to resonate still as the Shrieking Winds, that can be heard when the moon hangs just right during the month of Sun's Dusk in Falkreath.



Found by nedic nomads, she was brought to their village, and her terrible injuries tended to for nearly two weeks, but to no avail. Once life had left her, the wise women of the village wrapped her in the vestments of the dead, and a bonfire was lit to cremate her broken body in the ancient way of the nedic people. As the flames touched her, she awoke and set upon those who tried and failed to rescue her. In life she had been gentle, in death she was monstrous. The violence of her own assault paled in contrast to the carnage she unleashed upon the nomad camp. She ripped out the throat of the women with her teeth, and gorged on their steaming blood with hungry, animalistic snarls. She laughed murderously as she plucked out the eyes of their terrified, wailing children and ate them whole, before finally turning her attention to the men. She violated them as mercilessly as she herself had been violated and their tortured cries lasted long into the night. No life remained in the village as she strode soundless into the dark, drenched in blood and lit by the glow of her own funeral pyre; wherever she walked, death followed. In the millennia to come her name would be spoken only in terrified whispers. Lamae Beolfag, she who is the brood mother of the vampire, and matron of the undead.





 
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