Private The Art of Forsaken Slayers | 18+

[Aerin]

20 years since the defeat of Lord Harkon, whispers speak of dark figures in the night, missing loved ones, trails of blood and viscera appearing in the wilderness. In the east The Dawnguard is once more divided after the death of Isran. The two divisions remain in service to the land, ridding Skyrim of daedra, vampires and the evils that lurk in the dark.​

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One of the groups, known as Agents of Arkay, or the Forsaken Slayers have sworn fealty to the Divine Arkay. Led by an Jorgam gro-Murag, and Sionna Ruuz, these agents work in the dark to uncover the origins of a terrible enemy.​

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Sionna lowered the crossbow in her hands and looked to the target, pursing her lips in thought as she adjusted the sighting once more. Blowing away the dust she took aim once more, the familiar jolt of machinery hitting her shoulder. This time the bolt flew true and the young redguard nodded with a craftsman's satisfaction.

She had not left the fortress in over a week, having lost herself in designs and calibrations. She hoped that now that her task of upgrading the armoury was taken care of she would be able to move onto more important things. Namely the strange journal that one of the scouting missions had brought back. Jorgam had found the journal amongst other artefacts. He had recognised the jagged scrawling enclosed within dusty covers and had returned with it to have it translated, two words standing out above all others, Molag Bal. The language looked to be Daedric in origin but the initial translation had proved that it was far more ancient.

The book now resided with a scholar Sionna had personally escorted to their home, the meaning of the words soon to be explained to them. Setting down the crossbow upon her workbench Sionna wiped her hands with a rag before moving into the kitchen area. She sought the company of her brothers and sisters in arms, silently hoping that those who were out fighting against the darkness would return home with honour.

 

[UnLonged]

Unusual flashes of light leave streaks of bright silver in a thick forest, unusual for the light reflected is not from celestial sources, but from the glow of a dagger; a shining light that appears whenever undead are near. Kristoff, doing what he does best, fights off a lone vampire, not fully a fledgling but not fully a master. He moved around with precision as he gripped his silver whip; would have been a sight to see if it is not with deadliness. Every strike made upon the life sucker burns its skin.

The vampire let out a blood curdling howl, perhaps an attempt to threaten Kristoff, to no avail of course. It picked up its feet and ran away fast. He quickly took a silver knife from his belt and threw it towards the vampire. The knife was aimed for the undead's head but its reckless arm flailing put the knife askew, luckily turning towards its leg. The knife plunged down its skin and tore its muscles, felling the vampire. Kristoff took a moment to catch his breath as he casually walked towards the downed vampire, still squirming and wanting to get away. He unsheathe his dagger and stabbed it down the vampire's back as he knelt down beside it. The vampire gradually burnt to ashes, a will-o'-the-wisp leaving its former shell, or perhaps its prison. He removed his hat and placed it over his chest as he watch the ghostly light fly away to some obscured place only the likes of it know.

He stood up and put on his hat once more, flicking his whip strong as to remove the stains of undead blood on it, the same intent as he wipe the dagger with the cloth on his arm. Vampires running around like this, it would have been good if it's just this one and not already the fourth. This is something else. he mused to himself as he approach and mount his horse. The chestnut horse neighed and took a steady gallop as Kristoff cracked the reins. What bothers him most of the undead that run around is that they seem to be quite mindless, to walk aimlessly in an area that is a stone's throw away from his order would be suicidal. That or they are up to something else rather than having their fill of blood. A bad thing either way.

Off in the distance Fort Dawnguard stood, looking strong despite having stood on the ground for twenty years, probably more. Kristoff eased the horse to stride slowly as they near the outer walls of the fort, stationing his steed by a free post in the stables. He left the horse with a few strokes on his head, walking on towards the fort, bearing unsettling news in him.

The large door opened and a bustling interior greeted him; his brethren kept busy by their own handiwork, conversations, or something else obscure to him. He looked around for both the leaders of their group, Jorgam and Sionna, wanting to share his encounters. An imperial warrior lifted his finger and point out to the direction where the kitchen would be, as if knowing already who or what Kristoff is looking for. He responded with a nod before walking briskly towards the kitchen area, the folds of his coat move in a pace as his.

Sionna stood quietly in the room, as if having a deep contemplation which he did not sought to interrupt as he walked towards her and spoke up. "Lady Ruuz." he said as he removed his hat and bowed, the fires that came from the cooking spits reflected some light off it. "The situation regarding the undead is getting dire as of the moment and could easily get out of hand if not attended to with haste. I just encountered four of the blood suckers out in the deep forests not far from here, and it is barely night. We need you and Jorgam's council on this matter." he said with an ever serious look on his face, a look that doesn't really go away no matter the situation is.

 

[Mesmerize]

"Ugh! Go back to Oblivion you damn abomination!" Nothing but a slice of the axe, cutting the head off of the third vampire scout Jorgam has found within two days. Wiping the ashes off of his favorite battle-axe, Jorgam just shakes his head and continues towards Fort Dawnguard.

The Orc has just returned from the Bloodlet Throne, a known vampire location in the mountains near Falkreath. Luckily, him and the Forsaken Slayers have cleared the cave out days ago. Jorgam had just recently remembered that there was a few bottles of Honningbrew Mead just laying around untouched, and he'd never pass that opportunity up.

Jorgam reaches the fort and pushes open the large double doors, shaking off the ashes like a wet dog would. He heads straight to the armory and notices the renovations that Sionna had done. "Ha. She sure knows how to clean the place up." He walks into the kitchen and sees Sionna and Kristoff.

Whistling in admiration of the seemingly new fort, he walks up to Sionna. "Any luck with translating that journal? Whatever it is, it seems important. I just slaughtered the third vampire scout right outside the fort. It's ridiculous." Jorgam sets his axe down and sits at the table with his new Honningbrew Mead. "Also, I found three bottles. You guys want some?"

 

[Aerin]

Lost in contemplation of the strange journal Sionna looked into the fire. Amber and red flickered and licked at the stone back panels, black and sooty with years of use. To say its appearance had disturbed her would have been an understatement, but as leader of these Agents she knew she must do her best to stifle her concern.

Dusty boots scuffed against the floor, the gentle sound quietly breaking her reverie. Turning she watched as Kristoff returned, his customary greeting as formal as ever. She had long ago given up on trying to encourage a more informal interaction between them, but she supposed that was merely Kristoff. Stoic and polite in everything he did.

"The situation regarding the undead is getting dire as of the moment and could easily get out of hand if not attended to with haste. I just encountered four of the blood suckers out in the deep forests not far from here, and it is barely night. We need you and Jorgam's council on this matter."

Sionna nodded at Kristoff's report. To hear clarification and confirmation of what she already feared shook her to the core. To hear word of vampires so mindlessly set on destruction was unheard of. They were natural predators, but the kind that had been plaguing Skyrim for the past few years were as if they were under thrall themselves. Was that even possible?

Turning to face the imperial Sionna stood to her full, unassuming height with the quiet dignity of her people. Resting her hand on the pummel of one of her blades the redguard nodded once more. "Kristoff, your report troubles me, but I believe Jorgam and I may have found a key to this predicament."

Before she could say more the kitchen was filled with the loud footfalls of Jorgam, carrying several bottle of mead no less. "Any luck with translating that journal? Whatever it is, it seems important. I just slaughtered the third vampire scout right outside the fort. It's ridiculous." Smiling at his usual impatience Sionna declined the bottle offered. "I was just informing Kristoff of its existence actually." Another outside the fort? It was getting increasingly worse as the nights progressed. It was hardly dark outside yet, what any vampire in their right mind would be doing out now...

"I believe our scholar is nearly finished with the translation. I'm heading to his study in a moment. Depending on what it can tell us we will form a plan of action. Something darker and stronger than anything we've faced before is afoot here and we need to act swiftly if we are to save people from these maddening demons. For now though, rest, eat, gather your strength. I have a feeling our hours of respite will be few and far between in the days ahead."

Excusing herself from their company Sionna made her way up the stone stairway to the room where the scholar from Morrowind had stayed. An expert of daedra he had been the obvious choice for assistance in the matter. The old dunmer was hunched over his desk, surrounded by stray notes and pages, the journal itself laid out before him.

"I was wondering when you would come to find me. I believe I'm done here, and if I may, I wish to leave this musty fortress."

Wincing at the scholar's curt tone Sionna moved forward, picking up a sheet of parchment to glance at the translated words. Raising her eyebrows she nodded at the dunmer. "Of course. You have your payment and we have our translation. Travel with care sir." Appreciating her acceptance the scholar quickly gathered his things and took his leave, Sionna remaining to organise his notes. Sitting down at the desk she pored over the notes, hardly believing what she read.

Molag Bal. Daedric Prince, King of Rape and Harvester of Souls. Creator of Vampires? It was common thought that Molag Bal had been the first to create the abominations they hunted, but this journal spoke of more. It mentioned what seemed to be some kind of link, life force which bound the vampires to Molag Bal himself. Furthermore there was mention of Arkay, a ceremonial dagger that had been blessed by the Divine himself. This blade is used on Molag Bal could trap him in the farthest corner of Oblivion, and in doing so would break the tie between him and his creations. Without that link surely all vampires would cease to exist, their source of power destroyed. Sitting back in the chair Sionna took a moment to gather herself, the weight of this new knowledge weighing on her heart.

They needed to track down the dagger, of that there was no doubt, but to summon and attack Molag Bal? It was suicide. But their death would be honourable, and Sionna knew that those within the order would happily lay down their lives for this cause. But could she be the one to knowingly lead them to their deaths? She would have to call for a hearing amongst her most skilled, seeking out their council on the matter. Only then would she order a plan.

 

[Isara12]

Meanwhile, outside......

"How many Thralls do these vampires have?" a small wood elf complained up in a large maple near the entrance of the Bloodlet throne. the area around the tree was littered in corpses and ashes, along with a single arrow sticking out of each body/pile.

The wood elf sighed once more as a vampire, hood up, ran out of the keep, somehow managing to escape her comrades. Eindre simply rolled her eyes in drew another arrow from her quiver. Her ebony bow (with a fire enchantment on it) bent as she pulled on the string. With a a barely audible thwp! the abomination hit the earth, an arrow through his neck

"and now I wait once more" she relaxed back into the crook of the tree, to see what came out next: her teammates or another vampire

 

[death raider]

J'Oran sighed and his eyes fluttered open and close as the sound of the whirring wind wailed through the air. He couldn't sleep in such aweful noise and he decided that he would kill something to pass the time. He walked out of his bedroom and left the fort, seeing a few of his comrades already back from where ever they go during the day, J'Oran prefered killing things later on.

He travelled towards a small cave, it was broken down and the front door was rotting away and the planks of wood that were apart of the door were breaking off. The cave was near by, not far from home, he walked inside, pulling the door forwards, then back, then the door broke off it's hinges and fell to the floor. He walked inside the cave, he looked around, his eyes shifting through each corner of the room, watching, waiting, just incase something came out of the dark, and well, tried to kill him.

J'Oran walked through the dark place, no light showing through into the cave, but he had a way around this little problem considering he was a khajiit he could see through the dark, which was a great bonus. He carried on walking until he heard a little noise, his head swivled round to where the noise came from and there ont he floor was a small pile of bones, a gush of wind must have caused it to rattle, but he knew better than to just believe that, as it could be something that was hiding, waiting, watching.

He took out his sword, and watched closely around the room, just incase anything came out to confront him, he was ready for anything. Suddenly another noise was heard and a small pile of rocks fell onto the floor, then a dagger was thrown towards his face and J'Oran moved out the way just before the knife hit him. J'Oran rolly pollied away and he got to his feet and there it was, a dark figure, two daggers held in his hand. The figure ran towards him, and J'Oran did a quick remover from him and J'Oran stabbed the figure through the heart.

It was over, the creature was dead, J'Oran went out of the cave, taking a small bag of coins with him. He returned back to the fort and went to where all the others were and gave Sionna small bag of coins.
" Here is some money I got just take this,"
he then walked away and sat down on a small chair and sat there silent, as night, waiting, watching, always.

 

[Aerin]

" Here is some money I got just take this,"

Raising an eyebrow at J'Oran Sionna simply shook her head before gathering up the journal and it's notes. Returning downstairs she entered the kitchen hoping to find Jorgam still there. Pleased to see the orc was still at the table drinking she slammed the book down onto the wood. "It's more complicated than we thought. We need a council meeting. I want our elites gathered for this, understood?" Anyone who had fought beside Sionna as long as Jorgam had would see how unsettled she was. "Have everyone gather in the main lobby once they have returned from their outposts. Send out message to them if need be. I don't want to waste any time on this." Grabbing the book once more Sionna quickly picked up one of the bottles of mead before returning to her chambers to go over the translation once more.

 

[Mesmerize]

"Mmmm...this is some good mead." Jorgam finishes taking a huge gulp of mead, just as Sionna storms in, slamming the journal he had found right on the table. "Oh yeah go right on ahead. It's not extremely old or anything." Saying that in his "sarcastic voice," Sionna just shoots him a look.

"It's more complicated than we thought. We need a council meeting. I want our elites gathered for this, understood?"

"Uhh...yeah sure I'll get right on it." Jorgam knows Sionna better than anyone, and he knows when she means business.

"Have everyone gather in the main lobby once they have returned from their outposts. Send out message to them if need be. I don't want to waste any time on this."

"Will do. I'll get right on it." Jorgam gets up, just as Sionna grabs a bottle of mead and rushes to her room. He couldn't help but smile, taking him up on his offer. The Orc then sets out to round everyone up. He finds Kristoff first, as he is just sitting in a chair in the kitchen area, thinking about whatever noble people like him think about. "Get your ass in the meeting room. Now." Jorgam has a thing for asserting his dominance. Next, he finds J'Oran. "Get your ass in the meeting room. Now." He then rushes to find Eindre, but she's nowhere to be found Damn, that's right. I brought her with me to Bloodlet Throne...she never came back with me...Oops... Jorgam then grabs the courier and gives him a letter "Go find Eindre. She's outside the Bloodlet Throne. Give her this note." Jorgam then scribbles down his well thought out...and very official letter. Get your ass in the meeting room. Now. P.S. Sorry I forgot you. You know how I am when it comes to mead. He then sends the courier off "Hurry up with it."

 

[Isara12]

The reaction is swifter than thought.

Before the courier can even get out the door, he is slammed aside by the door being kicked open, and a rather angry looking bosmer standing there.

"YOUSUNOFVAERMINA!" she spat out angrily as she proceeded to throttle poor Jogram. "YOU LEFT ME AT A BLOODLET! THRONE! I COULD HAVE BEEN OUTNUMBERED AND KILLED..well actually, no" she started murmuring to herself, then she saw the courier smashed against the wall. She promptly takes his letter and reads it.

Eindre sighs. "I'm on my way. You get your ass there too"

 

[Mesmerize]

Just as Jorgam sends the courier off and turns to walk away, he hears an incredibly loud bang. He turns to see the double doors kicked open, and the courier knocked to the side, groaning. A fierce little wood elf comes through the door, screaming like a mad woman at the Orc.

"YOU LEFT ME AT A BLOODLET! THRONE! I COULD HAVE BEEN OUTNUMBERED AND KILLED..well actually, no"

Jorgam smiles apologetically at the young Bosmer, almost laughing at the thought of her actually becoming outnumbered. "Please, woman. You'd probably be like the Dragonborn and shout at the vampires til they die, hahaha! Come on now, let's get to the meeting room." Jorgam, still chuckling, puts his huge arm around Eindre's shoulders and walks with her to the large room. He takes his arm off of her and finds his seat at the end of the long table.

 

[Isara12]

(sorry! short! problems arising, will post long next time)

"maybe......" she smiled a little and walks with Jogram all the way to the meeting room. However, before Jogram removed his arm. She grabbed it an promptly flipped him over. Dusting off her hands, she sits down at her seats

 

[Aerin]

The bottle of mead hung loosely from Sionna's hand as she went over the scholar's translation one more time. There was no denying the task they were to undertake, she could only hope that they would make it out unscathed.

Sionna was distracted by the sound of a door slamming, followed by screaming which she could only assume was Eindre. She supposed it was about time to head to the meeting room to explain and debrief the group as to what exactly was going on. Taking a deep breath she adjusted her robes and walked to the meeting room, pleased to see that everyone was here.

"Alright. Now, as you have all noticed, the vampires are back but they're different. Some appear to be mindless, as if in thrall. Jorgam found this, on his last trip. It's ancient and daedric in origin I suppose. I'm sure you will have noticed the scholar who has ben staying with us for a number of days. We had him come her to translate it and...well...it's bigger than we could have imagined."

Rubbing her eyes Sionna laid out the journal on the table before her colleagues. "This book speaks of a dagger blessed by the Lord Arkay himself. Molag Bal is the creator of these creatures, these...demons. If we were to slay Molag Bal with this dagger we could destroy the vampires once and for all." Letting the words sink in Sionna walked around the table, her presence commanding attention. Coming to stand behind what would usually act as her chair she gripped the backboard. "I propose we seek out this dagger, and end this battle of light and dark once and for all. It won't be easy, and we may not survive, but look into yourselves and ask what is the right choice of action."

Looking to her warriors Sionna could only hope that they would side with her and support her attack on the daedirc prince. She wasn't sure if she had the stomach to talk them into such a mission.