@SubRosa: Kitty! Freya is cute! Thanks for sharing!
At least in this one, the little girl isn’t the antagonist. The idiot came running up the hill and found the vampire and his babbling drowned out what the little girl said.

I did that one a couple of times and he interrupted each time. Thanks SubRosa!
@mALX: It is an excellent quest, I had a lot of fun with it. Thanks mALX!
@Acadian: I’m glad that the little girl wasn’t the evil one like SubRosa mentioned. I had a lot of fun with this quest. Thanks Acadian!
@Grits: You are so right! I wasn’t expecting a ghost in the house, and you know something terrible happened to the little girl, but she doesn’t understand. Aravi tries to be diplomatic when she can, but she finds in this next video that the house is never unlocked. Thanks Grits!
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Aravi tries to get into Alva’s house again.9:15
Alva’s Journal~~~~
I wrote this scene to take place after this video and before the next. Because it was pretty short (less than 800 words), I decided to pair it with a video instead of posting it on its own.
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“I want to do this myself.”
“You can’t, this one will not allow it!”
Aravi looked at Kharjo, her eyes wide ears perked forward in surprise, then her ears flattened and she narrowed her green eyes. She stated in a firm, clipped tone: “I will do this myself. You can either stay here” she pointed at the table they were seated at in the Moorside Inn, “or you can return to your caravan” her finger pointed to the door.
Kharjo ignored her ultimatum and pressed on: “You can’t take an entire clan of vampires by yourself. This one does not care if you hunted them in Cyrodiil. You do not know how many there will be in this cave! This one goes with you. You can’t force him to wait here while you are devoured! ”
“You will not follow me.”
“And why not?” he demanded, his voice rising again. “This one has fought vampires at your side before. Why is this any different?”
He saw Aravi cast an annoyed glance around the inn. His outburst must have attracted attention. Kharjo didn’t care.
“Because you
will be killed if you go along. If not in the fighting, then when it ends. You will be infected with the disease. A small dose is easy to cure like any other disease but you will be infected many times over and a spell or potion will not be enough to save you.”
“This one will accept that risk like before.”
“I will not. This is different. There is an Ancient here; a vampire of enormous power that has lived hundreds of years.”
“What of you? You plan on suicide?”
“I know how to fight these monsters. I’ve destroyed clans like this before in Cyrodiil without help and this time I have Dawnbreaker” she said referring to the magical sword she received from a Daedric Lord, Meridia, which is especially potent against the undead.
Kharjo was doubtful, but he continued to his next point. “And then you will catch the disease and turn into a vampire.”
Aravi said in a quiet voice, “my blood will not allow the disease to take hold.”
Confusion, then realization swept through him. “Dovakiin?” he asked in a whisper, conscious of her preference to keep it secret.
“Yes. It protects me from the disease. I cannot be turned into one because of it.”
Kharjo looked down at his armored hands flat on the table. The ebony that encased them might as well have been wool for what good it did him against this foe. It wards off blows better than anything he’s worn before, but these particular vampires did not need to touch him. They could rip into his blood and consume it from a distance, unimpeded by his heavy plate armor. It frustrated and scared him. Almost as much as the small Khajiit woman sitting across from him, wearing nothing stronger than leather, going to fight them alone. His hands were clenched and he forced himself to relax.
“You shouldn’t go. Even if you can’t be turned, they’ll still kill you. You are the Dragonborn, you already have to kill dragons, leave this nest of vampires for someone else.”
“Who else is there? Those guards? That ridiculous Nord claiming to be the best warrior? You saw his equipment.” Her ears were flat again.
“This one does not know!” he said in exasperation. “Don’t go.”
Aravi didn’t say anything. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Aravi started to get up.
“Don’t go” Kharjo said and grabbed her hand.
Aravi paused, gave his hand a small squeeze, and then slipped from his grasp. Kharjo didn’t move. When he heard the door open behind him he said “If you do not come back, this one will go get you.”
He almost thought she had left before he heard her speak.
“Thank you.”
The door closed.
Kharjo looked at his moon amulet, given to him by his mother when he was just a cub. Stolen by bandits and recovered by a stranger in an unexpected act of kindness. He’d offered his service to this stranger. She’d taken it. As they traveled she took something from him without either of them realizing it. He felt a dull pain in his chest with each heartbeat. He sat alone for what felt like hours, the Nords giving him a wide berth when they passed his table. He had no idea how much time passed since she left, but he felt it was too long.
He got up and went to her.