Kayla also allowed herself a snort. "We don't 'need' a man in our group, but of you want to come along, it couldn't hurt much." She looked at his muscular form and turned back to her tea. "I think you'll be fine. The more the merrier."

'Good gods, I'm cranky this morning.'

She knew why. She'd been anticipating this fight all night, and before it was just her and Aravi, and now with two more people to wait on, the hunt was being prolonged. She sorely wished she'd found Aravi's room earlier and just pulled her from bed. They could have eaten on the road and been tracking the vamps right now.

She took another sip of her tea.

Aravi smiled at Kayla’s words, but inwardly she wondered how this would go. She knew Kraven was a very capable warrior, but she also knew he was a werewolf. If he shifted, she didn’t know how hers would react. She didn’t want to shift with anyone, especially Kayla, around.

Kayla will probably use her sword, and Kraven will be close in as well. Perhaps I will stick with my bow for this. She had no idea what his wife preferred to fight with. Wife? The thought struck her. I bet I know who it is too. She hadn’t seen the woman since last night.

Aravi chewed on the last bite of her sweet roll. She saw that Kraven had hardly touched the enormous breakfast he ordered.

Aravi looked at Kayla. She didn’t seem to be making any moves towards the bard. “If your wife is coming along, you should get her. We’ll be leaving soon. I would prefer to find and kill them before nightfall.”

I wonder if I have time for another sweet roll.

The Imperial began eating his food at a rapid pace, just when Kayla began speaking. For some reason this woman seemed peeved, and any discerning eye would've noticed it had to do with her earlier blushing when coming down the stairs. He scoffed inwardly, and stabbed his food with his fork and shoving plenty of it into his mouth.

"An all female group," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "Gods know how much would be accomplished."

Two women in a dark cave full of undead? Sure, he's seen many of these supposed warrior women but how much faith could he put on one lass who blushes when seeing a man and another who . . . quaked? The khajiit was the one he knew well, but not well enough. Last time he laid eyes upon her she was a frail creature. Afraid. Helpless. But now? With whatever she has running through her veins, it could help. The wolf is strong, and it gives strength for those who embrace it or choose not to.

Either way he could see the woman's impatience, and it humored him. So eager to walk into the mouth of the beast.

Lycus let out a chuckle at Aravi's last sentance. "Where's the sport in hunting them as they sleep?"

****

Vera came down the stairs, bathed and clean, to find Lycus and the others downstairs. She saw he was half-finished with his plate but there was still another one beside his. She realized this was her own.

She had with her a simple commoner's shirt and leather pants, and was otherwise appearing nothing more than a low-class Imperial woman. She took a seat next to Lycus, and began to eat her food without greeting the high elf, the breton or the khajiit.

"Make haste, we're going hunting." Lycus said.

"Say's who?" Vera said, with a knife plunged deep into her potato. A glare from her straight to the khajiit and the high elf woman seemed to confirm her suspicion. She brought the piece of stabbed potato into her mouth with the knife, and with a mouthful she spoke. "We're hunting who?"

"Vampires."

Vera half-smiled, and with a mouth still full she managed to say the same words as Lycus did. "Vampires."

Lycus craned his arm and stretched his muscles. "A nest of them must have sprung up a few miles from her," he motioned his neck over to the high elf. "Kayla here hunted down a few of them."

Vera nodded slowly as she heard out the story, and as she swallowed she looked at Kayla and muttered a bit loud. "Well, looks like she didn't get all of them."

Instead of rebuking her quip, Lycus added. "An Imperial girl was attacked last night."

She locked eyes with Lycus now, and they both stared. Vera was the one who snorted out a laugh. "Is that so?"

She's heard this before. She's seen that girl before, and she found this entire thing humorous. But she would oblige, only because there was nothing else to do.

"Hunting down vampires. Sounds to me like we're going to play a game." Vera said to Kayla and the khajiit. "I'll offer you my bow and my sword. I do things for a price but you're fortunate I'm looking to have a little sport. Haven't hunted vampires in years. Most of them tend to walk around in castles and palaces nowadays."

Or among people . . . but she didn't say this. It wasn't her place. Even if there was a vampire among a group of people, there was an unspoken agreement between her and them. They go their way, she goes hers. No trouble. Its been that way for years now and she hoped it would stay that way.

Lycus finished his food quickly. "I 'll get ready."

Vera waved a hand as she drank down her drink. She hummed a 'alright' to him before setting down the cup and looking at Kayla and the khajiit. "Vera. I'm sure you've met Lycus."

Aravi’s ears flicked with annoyance. She didn’t find anything about vampire attacks to be amusing, nor was she interested in ‘sport,’ as they put it. If they found all the vampires asleep, she would be perfectly happy to quietly slip a blade into their ribs.

If it was just Kraven, she was confident he would be an asset to the expedition, but this woman… Aravi didn’t trust her. And who knows how Kraven will act with her around. Her appetite soured.

“Vera. I'm sure you've met Lycus.”

Now we warrant attention. Lycus… ? Kraven?

“I’m Aravi. Lycus is?”

Kayla ignored the quip from the blonde imperial woman and examined her cuticles on her left hand.

"If you're looking for money, take it up with Irvana." She looked at the woman. "We, ourselves, aren't looking for fun or money. And we certainly don't find the situation funny." She raised her left eyebrow at the woman.

"And We met him. Very charming man." She let out a snicker. 'You're both OOZING with charm.' She thought. 'I don't think I can trust these people to watch ny back.'

She'd certainly do her best to keep everyone alive, but these two seemed made for each others company. They didn't act like they woke to others much. Kayla was especially peeved at the woman, Vera's, comment. 'No, I didn't get them all, but I'm only mortal. Yeesh.'

She took in a calming breath.

Vera expressed confusion as she gestured toward her husband. "Lycus. My husband."

She grinned at Aravi shortly after. "Pleasure to meet you."

Kayla spoke out now, and was visibly upset and annoyed by Vera's words. She interpreted Vera's humor the wrong way. "I don't find it funny either, not the suffering of others."

Vera felt no need to explain. She didn't find pleasure in the suffering of others. The villagers nearby may have been targeted and if they are aware, most surely they feel fear of being prey. Vera could relate to them. She was once targeted by a group of blood-thirsty villagers once, and Lycus himself too felt unable to do something when his home and his flock of sheep were being stalked by timber wolves. It is a horrible experience, to feel helpless. But this Imperial girl Irvana . . . Vera had to smile. Not out of enjoyment of her suffering but rather, that things were completely different in this picture.

"Irvana," muttered Vera. "I certainly wouldn't ask her for any coin. This isn't a contract."

On the other hand, her brother owes me for the last job I took. Anything else he asks will cost him triple!

She met Irvana awhile back while roaming the Imperial City, and even took on a few contracts for her that were too dangerous and covert for anyone else to take. The woman was wealthy as they come, and had more coin that Vera's family did. And that was saying something. They never locked horns before, but they never truly were friends. Everything came down to buisiness.

And now she's having them kill vampires. For free. Sounds much like her indeed. She wouldn't pick up a sword to do things herself.

And Vera found herself wondering why she decided to take this task.

She set her eyes on Kayla. "Coin. Sport. Any moral obligation you may have, it doesn't matter. What matters in the end is getting the task done. For either reason the outcome will be the same, and the locals will be protected and that's the goal here. Can't go wrong with having more people in your team."

She didn't understand why one who would hunt vampires wouldn't find enjoyment in their demise for sport. They, at least, were more "deserving" than others. But she wouldn't make this an issue. She came across people from all walks in life.

Vera finished her food rapidly, and thanked the cook and the dark elf fellow.

"They're hiding in a cave." Lycus said. "We can try to box few of them in incase one of them tries to escape. If they've fed, they might survive in the sun. I want to know which cave."

Vera turned to him, and then addressed the rest of the group, and then to Kayla. "You want to kill the hunters, you begin with the prey. Target on a map the recent attacks, and the last location you've killed the vampires. We can pinpoint where they're hiding."

That, or the scent alone could lead her to them.

Abiene

The breakfast talk turned to vampires. Abiene pushed away the rest of her sweetroll and excused herself with a murmur. She could see squares of sunlight slanting across the floorboards in the tearoom. Sipping kahve in the gardens sounded better than the sword-measuring competition that was brewing at the bar. She filled her mug and went outside.

She left her cloak and pack inside. Hopefully Aravi and Kayla would see them and know she wanted a chance to wish them well before they parted ways. Tell them ‘Good hunting,’ she reminded herself. Not ‘Be careful.’ Those are healer’s words.

The ground was soft after the night’s heavy rain, but the grass was too thick for it to be muddy. Abiene walked through the dappled shade until she reached a bench in the sun. She leaned against its back enjoying the view.

The Argonian groundskeeper was dragging fallen tree branches to a pile. A Bosmer with a rake moved about tidying the pasture. Abiene looked up at the inn, counting windows until she found her room.

How fortunate to have met Aravi here, she thought. The memory of her new friend’s impulsive hug made her smile. Is there anything so lovely and warm as being hugged by a Khajiit?

“This one enjoys the morning?”

Abiene jumped in surprise at the voice. The dark Khajiit from the tavern was right behind her. How did he..?

“Um, yes, it’s…” Abiene was uncertain what exactly he was asking. She flicked spilled kahve from her fingers. “I’m Abiene,” she blurted. “How does the day greet you?”

The Khajiit’s lips curled up at the corners, and his eyes narrowed in amusement. “This one is called Dar’muktah.” He looked her over the way one might visually inspect one’s luggage before embarking on a journey.

Is everything in place? she wanted to snap. But his manner didn’t seem insolent, or even terribly interested. He was just… checking. “Are you staying at the Goblet?” she asked instead.

“This one works here.” Dar’muktah looked down toward the road, then away over the trees. His claws eased out and then retracted, almost absently.

He’s huge, Abiene realized.

“This one is the healer?” His words were underscored by a throaty rasp.

Abiene’s eyes flew back to Dar’muktah’s. Now his teeth showed in a lazy grin.

“Yes, I am. Do you need..?”

But the Khajiit was already walking away.

Abiene shook herself. Funny how ‘this one’ means both ‘you’ and ‘me,’ depending on context and inflection, she thought. What an odd conversation.

Aravi slid off of her stool and left enough gold to cover her expenses.

“I’m going to my room for my armor; I will be right back down.”

She lightly went up the stairs and entered her room, closing the door behind her. She changed out of her clothes and put on a loincloth and a bra to wear under her armor. She was used to Skyrim’s cooler weather and she didn’t want to overheat. Over that went the golden armor of Elven make. She left the helmet off for now. She had 25 arrows for her short bow. Should be plenty. The quiver went on her back, and then her swords were belted at her hips.

Finally, she shouldered her pack. Before leaving, she placed a generous tip for Hethilion on the night stand next to her messy bed. What a wonderful bath it was.

She went back downstairs, her helmet in hand.

When Vera addressed Kayla, Aravi excused herself to get her armor. Kayla nodded down at Aravi and turned her attention back to Vera.

"Now we're getting down to business. I had planned to talk to Irvana about where she was attacked last night, if she could pinpoint it." She pulled out her worn map and slid closer to Valera. The creases in her map tore in more than one spot, she noticed as she pointed to the Wobbly Goblet on her map, the ink darker and fresher where she had marked it last night.

"We're here, right? I came this way," She slid her slender finger down the map until she stopped right about where she had been attacked. "And was attacked here." She tapped the parchment lightly. "I didn't see if there were any caves or ruins of the sort, and even if I had, I would have kept moving." her eyes darkened a bit. "I'd rather not see the-" she shot a look around the room. "Well, you two may know what I'm talking about."

'Mutilated corpses of men, women, and children...rotten body parts... the stench.'

She absentmindedly scratched her shoulder. "I don't know if you two want to talk to Irvana or not, but I can."

Vera scooted herself closer to Kayla and set her eyes on the map. Vera was told where the Altmer was attacked, and the location where they were. She said she either didn't see any cave or must have passed one by mistake.

The huntress rubbed her chin, and analyzed the markings. The only location nearby would be the Black Rock Caverns and Nonwyl cave. Black Rock caverns made sense, as it was closer to the place of the attacks. Vampires are territorial creatures, and if these ones are wise enough they'd stay clear from the cities lest they rouse suspicion of their own elite or vampire hunters, which Vera had to confess was exactly what happened.

Kayla looked about the room, telling her she didn't want to come across . . . she wasn't specific. But Vera had a clue to what she was thinking.

Rotting corpses? Decapitated heads? Entrails?

Out loud, Vera said, "Vampire leftovers?"

Vera's eyes brightened, and she frowned as she set a firm finger down upon the locations of the two caverns. "Here and here. These are the ideal place but my instinct tells me they're hiding in Black Rock caverns. Nonewyll cavern is small, and judging by how they tend to be in groups . . . the size of Black Rock is just perfect for them to lay low."

Kayla asked if either of them wanted to speak to Irvana. Vera shook her head. "You're welcome to speak to her. I have to get suited up to the task first." She explained, and got up from her chair. Her gear was with the horse outside that Lycus brought along with him. "I'll be outside."

Vera left as Aravi returned. She climbed onto the stool next to Kayla. She looked at the map on the counter.

"Where are we going to start looking? And do you need anything before we go?"

Lycus ate.

Kayla pointed to the map where Vera had picked out the nearest cave. "Here. That's where I was attacked. I was thinking of asking Irvana of this was around where she was attacked. And no, I have all of my gear with me."

Clad in black ebony armor that was somewhat outdated, burned from countless fireball hits, but still undeniably effective and durable, Vera checked her array of weaponary brought by Lycus. The armor had been modified and given tribal runes of a language old and forgotten, the symbols and words written along the gauntlets and chest piece. Herhelmet, too, was black, except for a light ridge crossing and running along the sides of her helm. Her quest seemed pserious a bit, considering she would take on a nest of vampires with two other women, but to one as agile and skilled as Vera, and with a penchant for getting herself into and out of tricky and daring situations, this was nothing out of the ordinary.

Vera scanned her pack holding silver-tipped bolts, poisonous darts and three large throwing stars all made from either silver or steel. A wise hunter would always equip himself with nescessary equipment, and the best was always nescessary. Though she didn't have the means of acquiring yet the Daedric tools, these deadly metals would suffice.

Poison dats would serve to paralyze or intoxicate her prey or bounties. Neither effect would do much good against vampires and their dead flesh. Silver, on the other hand, was the best tool to use when coming face to face with them. Amusingly enough, it was also her bane.

Vera was going to travel light here. Heavy armor was not required. She'd rather choose to sneak on the creatures. It would be equal sport either way. Speed and guile, rather than strength, would serve her well today. Aside from her mundane weaponary, she may be able to use the spells she had been blessed with years ago in Solstheim, though she knew it would do her no good. Vampires could see through walls, and even beings that are invisible to the naked eye.

All she needed was her crossbow . . .

Lycus Desselius had his plate taken away from him after he finished eating. As expected, the food was delicious and it went down fine. Though the drink had done something to disturb his stomach.

Sitting down, Lycus thought about letting Vera go without him to the cavern. For years they've been together now, hunting together, fighting together, as one. And they had the rest of their whole lives to do it, and without a doubt eternity as well in the next life. She was always a solitary woman herself, and though the situation didn't change much. She needed to be around her own kind . . . females, he meant. Perhaps let her have some sport and friendly competition.

He looked at Kayla and Aravi on the far side of the bar, and thought about it again. Perhaps not. They took hunting seriously, and they did it to help the lives of those who were in danger. They did it out of duty and obligation. Vera was willing to go not for coin, but for a measure of peace. Not many people shared her mindset, and with good reason. Their lives were shaped differently. Much different.

Lycus took a glance at his wolfish helmet and stared at it, and then his memories went back into the shadows of the past and his eyes stared into nothing in particular. He blinked.

Lleris was still around by then, and his movements brought Lycus back into the present. He looked into his polished helmet and nodded ever so slightly as his lips spread into a grin. When the Dunmer was within earshot, Lycus spoke to him. "Not many could do a job as well as you did," Lycus began. "It takes the dedication and care for polishing something as steel in such a fashion. And even a weapon, as well."

His eyes fell on the Dunmer, and the hostility he had days before had vanished. Lycus never liked the Dunmer much. Their culture was somewhat understandable, but the people in general tended to be the bane of his existance. That is not to say he didn't learn a few precious lessons. The dark few couldn't stand to represent the entire race. Perhaps out of many, a handful were good. One of these handful were his old mentor while he was a slave under a master. "I was a blacksmith once many years ago in Morrowind tasked with supplying the guards of a Telvanni stronghold with equipment. I was a young man still. Never forged a weapon in my life in those days. Never so much as polished armor."

He paused, recounting the memory. "My mentor was a cruel Dunmer. Not like the master of the stronghold, but still blunt and cruel. He once threw a man off a sixty-foot tower for passing gas one night in the barracks. My first day upon learning what I needed to know about forging steel he told me 'boy, this will be your first weapon forged. I want it to be perfect. If I spot so much as a dent, or a crack or anything that doesn't belong there . . . I will break both of your hands so you never can hold a weapon again or even pleasure yourself at night.'"

Lycus scoffed. "Knowing his reputation, I did the task to the best of my ability. I made the weapon, a common shortsword made from steel, fearing for my precious hands with a fear I never thought I would have."

Lycus looked at Lleris. "After he died, I discovered the old bastard has a sense of humor in inspiring others to do a good job and that he never truly meant to harm me in that way."

The large Imperial leaned back and nodded at the Dunmer. "You have it easy boy. No matter what you say or think, its true. The outside world is harsh, and ugly. People say I'm awful, but I am an honest man. You're here surrounded by those who care, who hold sentiment toward you. Cherish that, for many others out there were bred by the cold world and never had the privilege to hold such warmth to their breast."

“Here. That's where I was attacked. I was thinking of asking Irvana of this was around where she was attacked. And no, I have all of my gear with me," Kayla said.

Aravi considered. The Imperial woman could have valuable information that would lessen the amount of searching they would have to do. Then again, as Aravi suspected, she might not know anything of use. And then who knows when the girl would wake up. I suppose we could knock loudly. She looked at Lycus. Very Loudly.

She looked back at Kayla. “It couldn’t hurt talking to her, though I suspect she doesn’t know much. I’d like to get moving soon so if we are going to talk to her, let’s not wait for her to come down.”

Lleris

Lleris moved around behind the bar clearing plates. Aravi and Kayla had their heads together over a map. The Imperial Lycus sat at the bar, examining his newly cleaned helm. Lleris wondered if the man was still inclined to break his bones.

The Imperial’s features stretched into a wolfish grin. “Not many could do a job as well as you did,” he said to Lleris. “It takes the dedication and care for polishing something as steel in such a fashion. And even a weapon, as well.”

I know the worth of my hands, thought Lleris. It can be measured in the gold I earn, for myself and the house that shelters me.

The man’s eyes fell on Lleris. The Dunmer made himself still.

Lycus told the tale of his youth under a cruel dark elf master.

As he spoke, Bograk’s words returned to Lleris’ mind. ‘Even the fiercest hound remembers who kicked him as a pup. You’ve been kicked plenty, lad. I won’t tell you to forget, but you’re no beast. Don’t let your past rule you.’

“You have it easy boy,” Lycus continued. “No matter what you say or think, it’s true. The outside world is harsh, and ugly. People say I'm awful, but I am an honest man. You're here surrounded by those who care, who hold sentiment toward you. Cherish that, for many others out there were bred by the cold world and never had the privilege to hold such warmth to their breast.”

Lleris stood still under the big man’s gaze, listening. I know the cold, he thought. And I’m learning when to hold my tongue.

“Yes, Mister Lycus,” he said.

The door opened, admitting the short, armored figure of Nora the Legion Rider. She strode briskly up to the bar and tossed her leather flask to Lleris. He reached for the pitcher and filled it with kahve.

“Haven’t left yet?” she asked, eyeing the group. “I know where the lady Irvana was attacked.” One hand flipped her map open on the bar. She thumped a thick finger down onto it. “Right here. Use silver, take your potions. But you know that. I’ll see you here tonight. Good luck with the hunt, citizens.”

Nora took her flask back from Lleris. Then she turned on her heel and marched back out the door.

Kayla blinked before putting her map away.

"Well, I think we know for sure where we're headed." She conceded. "Lets go." She picked up her bag and shouldered it and waited, willing to walk with the group.

Maxical:


Maxical peeked her head around the corner of the door, scanning the assembled group spread across the lobby of the Inn. With a feeling of relief a familiar tall figure with almost chestnut hair caught her eye. There couldn't be too many Altmer with hair that color.

"Kayla? Didn't I meet you at Buffy and Aravi's birthday party?"

Maxical pushed the door shut and was already started across the room when she noticed who Kayla was talking to.

"Aravi! What is everyone doing here?"

"Well, I think we know for sure where we're headed." She conceded. "Let’s go."

Aravi nodded and stood. “The sooner we’re back, the better.” I didn’t come down here to exterminate vampires.

She didn’t notice another Khajiit had entered the room until she heard her name. Who is that? she thought when she looked. The other Khajiit was white, even brighter than Aravi’s fur was, with beautiful red hair.

How does she know me? Where did we meet?

“Hello… who are you? I’m sorry, but I don’t remember, when did we meet?” She began to feel a little embarrassed. I hate it when this happens.

kayla grinned widely at the sight of the teensy Khajiit.

"Maxical! How did you get here?!" She pulled the girl into a hug, bending down so she wouldn't crush Maxical's face with her chest. "What are you doing here? How have you been?!"

She then remembered Maxical's question. "Well, both Aravi and I- oh, I'm sorry, Aravi, this is Maxical. She was at Buffy's birthday party and I think Buffy had a painting of you. Not sure. It's a little fuzzy. There was a lot of wine."

Aravi watched as Kayla leaned down to embrace the Khajiit.

A painting of me? And it’s fuzzy? Is she teasing?

That red hair seems familiar. And she knew Buffy, enough to go to her birthday. Might that be how she remembers me? One of the previous parties? Or is there more?

Maxical gave Kayla a tight squeeze back and kissed her cheeks in greeting. "I've met Aravi before, a year ago at one of Buffy's birthday parties. I'm so glad you are here, I hate coming into an inn full of strangers. Geez, there sure are a lot of people here, do you think they'll have a bed left for me? I'd rather spend the night here than the Gray Mare, I heard they have bugs and you sleep on a bedroll on the floor."

Maxical turned back to answer Aravi. "Buffy's party a year or more back. I remember particularly because it was the day she offered to share her birth date with you."

So it was one of Buffy's parties.

"I'm please to meet you again Maxical." That's what Kayla called her, right? "Sorry I don't remember you very well."

Kayla was still stuck on what Maxical said.

"Bugs and what?!" She shook her head. "I'm sure there's room for you, I might be moving on soon, if the weather stays clear."

Maxical's face fell at Kayla's words. "I hope you're not leaving too soon, I'd sure like to spend some time together since I have to be in Chorrol for a few days."

She turned to include Aravi in her question. "Have you two eaten already? I'm starving, do they have good food here?"

"Aw!" Kayla gave Maxical a gentle hug. "The thing is, we'll be gone for a few hours. Some vampires popped up, and we," she gestured to herself and Aravi, "Are heading to take care of them, along with two others." She gave Maxical an apologetic look. "We've also already eaten. The food here is wonderful, though..."

Stefania and Irvana.

Stefania opened her eyes, and right after she yawned. What a night that was . . .

Indeed, what a night it was for she didn’t remember anything that happened. All she recalled was sharing pleasant stories with a fearful but smart Irvana, and falling asleep right after and an odd dream. It was a peaceful dream but nevertheless strange and distant, ethereal even. Dreams she wouldn't dare share to anyone but her closest of friends.

She felt strange, too. It was the wine . . . it had to be. All that wine drained the energy from her. She felt lightheaded and nauseous. She hated mornings like these. Stefania sighed, and massaged the side of her neck for a prolonged period of time before casting a glance beside her. The Imperial woman was there, sleeping as a little child with hands wrapped around her chest as if she was guarding her delicate life. She slept with a mass of black hair and a graceful, almost feline quality to her slumber. Her skin flawless and even more radiant and smooth than it was then night before.

And then Stefania realized that she was in the wrong room, in the wrong bed, and certainly at the wrong time. Her eyes widened and she kicked the covers from her feet and pounced to the side. She tried to find her shoes but it was too dark for her to see as they were dark. She felt with her feet and finally slipped them into her shoes that she left beside the bed, and put her hands out in front of her.

“I hope Hethilion isn’t cleaning my room yet!” she whispered. “He’s going to kill me.”

“Why would he do that?” came a calm, gentle whisper.

Stefania turned to see Irvana laying in the bed, but in the same position as before with her eyes open this time.

“I’m not supposed to be here at this hour. If he catches me, I’m in trouble.” Stefania replied. “I have to be in the tea room before lunch.”

Irvana giggled. “It is breakfast time . . . but I understand you want to establish the belief that you spent your time in the attic. And I support you. Its not worth getting in trouble over something so insignificant as this. Thank you, Stefania, for your company. It was much appreciated. If he does happen to spot you and confront you, I'll be sure to speak with him."

“Thank you, Irvana,” Stefania replied as she stumbled in the shadow for the key at the door. She paused, and remembered one of the jokes Irvana told hours ago. “I love your sense of humor.”

Before she opened the door to check if Hethilion was in the hallway, she turned to Irvana. “You’re not getting out of bed?”

Irvana yawned loudly. “I’m still very tired and that wine somehow left me with a foul headache. I’ll sleep in for a few hours.”

“Yeah, me too. See you around.”

“Likewise.” Irvana replied.

Stefania placed her ear on the side of the door, and listened. No footsteps in the hallway, no sound of mop or broom. Good, she thought. I can still make a dash for it.

And so she did. She opened the door, stepped out and closed it behind her. She feared the Altmer housekeep was already in her room, wondering why in oblivion she wasn’t in there. But the accumulated dirt in the corner suggested he didn’t sweep that way yet, and she was in the clear. Stefania rubbed the nape of her neck, and rushed to the attic. If I can get a bit more of shuteye, I’ll be just fine . . .

****

In the distance, Irvana could hear the clatter of plates and silverware and the sound of feminine laughter.

They’re still here . . .

But she wasn’t annoyed, or even angry. Those vampires will die one way or another.

She lay there in her bed, patient, thinking a thousand thoughts. She sat up in the bed, looked to the door and squinted her eyes. Light came forth from the keyhole, but it was faint and no match for the darkness that was inside her room. A key blocked most of it from coming in.

Not wanting to be disturbed at this hour, or for the hours to come, Irvana stretched forth her hand and concentrated. Her hand twisting gently.

Slowly, the key began to turn as invisible fingers guided it and she heard the locks come into place. When the last click was made, she smiled to herself. Mysticism wasn’t a school she ever found herself interested in, but she couldn’t help but acquire a few spells here and there. Destruction and illusion, on the other hand, were among her greatest of abilities.

She would cast a fireball to one of the candles nearby but struck against it. She closed her eyes, settled more into the soft pillows, and slept.

Maxical leaned in to Kayla's hug and squeezed her tightly back. "Be careful, then. Make sure you come back, I won't rest till I know you are safe. Good friends are hard to find these days."

Maxical glanced around, sizing up the room. "A place like this should have a good bath, do you know where it is? I'd like to get rid of this road dust and eat after I've cleaned up."

Bograk

Bograk stood by the bar fireplace with her kahve, one eye on the guests and the other on her staff. Lleris comported himself well. The lad was a quick learner. Riad moved down the stairs just as Dar’muktah slipped through the front door. The two exchanged a look. Riad walked back to the kitchen, and Dar’muktah took a position in the corner by the stairs.

Bograk nodded to herself.

A white Khajiit entered the tavern and introduced herself as Maxical. She seemed to know some of the guests.

Hethilion came down the stairs and walked over. He passed her a handful of keys.

“Our mysterious guest?” Bograk asked him.

Hethilion gave a thin smile. “She has made herself… welcome. I do hope she decides to stay.” He headed off to his basement chambers.

The orc suppressed a shiver. Mage locks and magical cleaning were tremendous benefits in the running of an inn, and the Altmer’s other services had proven even more valuable. What he got for his trouble was his own business, as long as he didn’t make it hers. The inn remained a safe and clean refuge for travelers. Their long-standing agreement worked well.

Maxical glanced around as if sizing up the room. “A place like this should have a good bath, do you know where it is?” she asked her companions. “I'd like to get rid of this road dust and eat after I've cleaned up.”

Bograk stepped forward. “We have rooms with private baths, ma’am, and our kitchen is open all day. How may we serve you?”

Maxical turned, surprised to see fierce looking Orc by her side...no, that must be a trick of those tusks. Her eyes showed a gentle kindness that gave lie to that expression. Maxical hadn't even heard her approach, the woman must be athletic despite her size.

"Yes please, if you don't mind and I can afford it. I'd love a bath. If you don't have heated baths I can heat my own, but...it is better if someone else does it. I have a tendency toward clumsiness with fire spells. If I have enough left over...I'm really hungry. I have some ingredients and a pelt to sell if you'll barter for my bill, I don't have much gold on me. If I have enough to do it, I'd rather spend the night here than the Gray Mare, if you know what I mean."

She caught Aravi's arm before she could leave. "Wait just a second, I think you'll remember me if I show you something."

The large Orc woman nodded, stepping back to wait.

"Oh. I didn't want everyone to see this...er...Aravi, remember me and Buffy dancing? It was over a year ago..." Maxical started dancing, to the accompanying sound of Kayla spewing her drink at the sight.

A familiar loud braying sound interrupted Maxical mid-dance. She looked up surprised to see Eyja's boyish grin. Eyja finished laughing and glanced around at the assembled crowd in the breakfast area of the tavern.

"What the hell is going on here? Looks like an army preparing for battle. Trouble's afoot, you'd best come with me. I'm staying at a friend's house in Chorrol, there is plenty of room for you too. Come on."

Maxical smiled her apologies to the large Orc woman, and gave Kayla a warm hug before following Eyja out. "Let me know you've made it back safe, I'll be in Chorrol a few days."

Aravi smiled. Yes she certainly did remember that… unusual dance. Maxical. She would be sure to remember that name now.

Then one of the other patrons stood up and interrupted Maxical’s silly dance, saying they should leave. See you later, Aravi thought in silent farewell.

She looked at Kayla. “I suppose we should go too. Vera’s outside already.”

Aravi opened the door and stepped outside.

Kayla was still wiping off the remnants of her cider when Aravi stood up.

"Yeah, let's go." She stood up as well and shouldered her pack, giving Maxical a tight hug. "I'll see if I can visit you in Chorrol, then. I've never been inside the city gates, and it looks lovely." She mimicked Maxical's earlier greeting and gave her a kiss on the cheek in farewell.

"See you later!"

She followed Aravi.

Abiene

A breeze rustled the tree branches above Abiene’s bench, sending white petals drifting down. Summer should be pleasant here, she thought. I won’t miss the Gold Coast heat.

The chapel bells rang over in Weynon Priory. She picked out Brother Piner’s robed form striding up the road toward Chorrol.

I should start soon, she thought.

The sound of the tavern’s door made her turn. A line of folk stepped out into the morning.

Abiene rose and walked toward them.

Vera headed off into the path that would lead to the cave. She didn't have a map, but she read and registered the location in her mind. What was left was simply heading off in the direction. The map, in this case, was her mind and the landscape.

The breeze came in, rustling her blond hair aside. She strode toward her intended location with her crossbow set just above her shoulder. A pack of silver quarrels carefully tucked in their compartments bounced from her hip.

She was ready to claim her blood tribute this day, and have some peace in mind after hunting. The hunt always calls to me . . .

It clouds the mind, and everything else is focused on the act of the chase, the drag, the kill. Even in her sleep her dreams are plagued of such things and she always found herself asking the same question over and over.

Am I wolf or woman?

Both the wolf and the woman were in acceptance of each other; each would stand incomplete without the other. Yet the open spaces of the Colovian Highlands called out to the beast's heart. Deep inside she wanted to turn her face into the gentle breeze, to dissapear into the tall grass and into the forest and remain a beast among beasts for all eternity.

But the woman that was Vera knew better. The woman understood and knew that morning would come after those hours and she would find herself nude and defenseless. For better or worse, her destiny was forever linked with her ancestors and her life reflected the sphere of her Lord. Hunt by night, be hunted by day.

Neither wolf nor woman, she thought, but something greater, perhaps so, damned. Either her fate would be to die by being set aflame from the church, or at the end of a sword by a knight. Or perhaps stoned by mortals fearful of her tremendous power? Her enemies have always been so since before the days of the Bloodmoon and henceforth. That she had survived this long was an open challenge to the accepted order of this world— a challenge to fate. And she doubted she would live from old age, and disease would be impossible. She would breathe until the life would be torn from her. In the end, all that mattered was living.

She would never surrender the woman to save the wolf, or the wolf to save the woman. She would live to be herself. Both. To be free or perish. After a lifetime of living as a beast . . . she had all eternity to hunt in paradise.

Vera looked to the sky, and to the sun, and could tell what hour it was. It wasn't late, but the lacking presence of her hunting companions made her wonder if they decided to remain back in the tavern and let her do all the hunting. If they come along, fine. If they don't, that's fine too.

She would have plenty of ways of dispatching these vampires. Kill them as they sleep, pick them off one by one. Send one of her spectral bone-hounds in to flush them out into the sunlight, and collect their dust as trophies to put into some old jar. Sure, that would be suiting. As the case with her companions, it didn't matter either. Trophies or no, hunting techniques or not, the hunt is the hunt. And in the end, that's all that truly mattered to Vera.

*

Maxical nearly bumped into Eyja's back, she'd stopped short to conduct an outrageous flirtation with a little Bosmer that had hurried over at the sight of everyone leaving. He was trying to determine if any horses were needed, Eyja's sallies back to him about needing a mount lit his eyes with mirth. He responded readily to her suggestive tone with mischievous innocence in his voice, but every phrase could easily be misconstrued to have a different meaning and his expressive eyebrows were just as mobile as Eyja's.

Without being able to see her face, Maxical could readily imagine Eyja was using her sultry eyes on him by the interest quickening in his. There was no way to determine whether Eyja was seriously interested or not. She always said no men could match a Bosmer when it came to flirting, but with Eyja this could end in her going for a roll in that stable with him.

Maxical moved around them, meandering to the nearby bench set under a tree. It was occupied, a woman was sitting there just as Maxical had before going into the Inn. Maybe she was enjoying the peace of this place, that was what struck Maxical when she was sitting there earlier. It had a different feel than a city inn, that was sure. It was a lot bigger and busier than the Faregyl, but out here it had the same feeling the Faregyl did; peaceful.

As she was moving down toward the bench the chapel bells rang from what looked like a Priory across the way from the Inn yard, and for a split second Maxical wondered if that was the Weynon Priory she was supposed to be going to on Morndas. It couldn't be. There were monks out in the yard tending sheep, it looked as peaceful as this Inn. If the Blades were holed up in there surely there would be the feel of a military presence, some practice targets set up in the fields or something.

Maxical was about to sit down beside the pretty Breton woman on the bench, but as she did the woman stood up as if to leave. Maxical pounded her chest lightly in a combination salutation and apology, then flushed embarrassed at the road dust that rose from the action.

"I hope I didn't disturb your peace. I liked sitting on this bench earlier, and it looks like my friend is tied up for a while. I'll go pet the sheep if you'd prefer to be alone."


*

Abiene

Abiene turned to find a white Khajiit with a gorgeous red ponytail standing there.

The Khajiit made a gesture and spoke. “I hope I didn't disturb your peace. I liked sitting on this bench earlier, and it looks like my friend is tied up for a while. I'll go pet the sheep if you'd prefer to be alone.”

“Not at all,” Abiene said quickly, reaching out to clasp the woman’s hands. Then she realized she still held the empty mug. “My, you startled me! It is peaceful. I’ve just been watching the road and thinking I should head back to town, but my feet never got the message. Here I still am.”

She smiled, embarrassed by her runaway tongue. “I’m Abiene. I’m going to go say farewell to my friends, but then I think I’ll come right back here if you don’t mind me joining you. Would you care for some kahve or some tea from the inn? I could bring some out for us.”

*

"Abiene?" Maxical glanced at the stone walls of nearby Chorrol, then back to the unusual beauty of the Breton woman's face. "Jerric's Abiene? I mean...I mean, a friend of mine Jerric knows an Abiene that lives in Chorrol now. It must be you from Lildereth's description...I mean, she said you were very pretty. I must be chattering like a magpie, I'm sorry."

Maxical shifted from one foot to the other, unsure if by startling her the woman meant she really had disturbed her thoughts. Her expression flittered between warm and welcoming and tension, maybe her thoughts were better disturbed if they were stressful. Maxical pointed at a butterfly lighting on a flower petal in the small bed of Primrose beneath the tree.

"There's a butterfly! Isn't that supposed to mean luck? It is peaceful sitting here, isn't it? I like seeing the people passing on the road. I saw the Countess of Leyawiin pass with her Guard and Handmaiden when I was out here a little while ago, they were heading toward Chorrol. The Guard stopped his horse and greeted me just like I wasn't a Khajiit!"


*

Aravi stepped outside into the sunlight. It was a glorious morning that promised a beautiful day. Too bad we are leaving to hunt some vampires in some cave. I would have liked to spend the day here. She inhaled deeply, the smell of fresh grass clippings sweet in her nose.

Vera was ahead of them, making her way down the path towards the road. Over by the stables was the woman that grabbed Maxical, quite obviously distracted by the ostler.

Sitting on a bench nearby was Maxical and Abiene. Aravi stepped off the path in their direction but did not approach. She didn’t want to intrude on their conversation. But perhaps she could wave or give them a quick farewell if they noticed her.

Kayla followed Aravi out the door. She spotted the cute Khajiot and the pretty Imperial woman and waved to them.

"See you later!" She called, in a much more cheerful mood, now that they were on their way to kill some vampires.

Kayla, behind Aravi, shouted to Maxical and Abiene. Aravi waved to both of them and then continued walking down the path. Vera, was still well ahead of them, but in easy following distance. She seems to know where she's going.

Abiene

Jerric’s Abiene. Her stomach still fluttered every time she heard his name.

“Lildereth is too kind, but I’m the very same Abiene.” She had a realization. “You must be Maxical, the Arena fighter! I seem to miss all of the fun, but I do get to hear some of the stories. Though I suspect that Jerric sometimes exaggerates.”

Kayla called out, “See you later!” She and Aravi both waved farewell as they walked down the path.

“Good hunting!” Abiene called, waving back at them. Take care, my friends, she thought. May you return safe by nightfall.

Maxical pointed out a butterfly. “Isn’t that supposed to mean luck?” she said.

Abiene laughed. “I’ve heard it’s good luck if a bird ‘goes’ on your head. I like your version of luck much better!”

"Maybe we should catch up to Vera," Kayla said to Aravi. "She seems to know where she's going, and my map is a bit worn out. I think if I touch it again, it'll fall apart." She looked around at the gorgeous scenery, and smiled when the sun hit her golden skin.

"The sun isn't quite this warm in Skyrim," She said absently.

"The sun isn't quite this warm in Skyrim," Kayla said.

Aravi kept her eyes on the path. She reluctantly increased her pace and the distance between them and Vera shortened. “No it isn’t. It gets close near Riften, but not quite. Where do you live? I have a home on the southern shore of Lake Ilinalta. The nearest town is Falkreath, but I prefer going to Riverwood or even Whiterun for supplies.”

Kayla easily kept pace with Aravi, her long legs making one stride while Aravi's made two or three.

"Whiterun," she answered, looking at the Khajiit. "I'm not there very much, though. I'm usually out and about, doing...well, this." she laughed. She sighed. "I miss it."

Aravi thought of her own home. She was only ever there for a few days at a time before she and Kharjo were on the road again.

“My friend takes care of my home. It’s probably more her home than mine, even if the deed is in my name. I’m almost never there. She even jokingly pretends to not know me when I come home. ‘I hope you aren’t here to cause any trouble,’” Aravi mimicked.

*

Maxical blew a kiss to Kayla and made a sign of catching it and holding it up to Kayla. "That's for luck, you come back safe, you hear?" She waved at Aravi and then plunked down on the bench, waiting till Abiene had said her goodbyes and seated herself before answering her. Something Maxical said had caused Abiene pain, but since she'd chattered so much it was hard to tell what.

"If bird poop on your head was lucky, I'd be the luckiest person in the world, and I'm not. Whoever told you that was probably saying it to save embarrassment in one way or the other."

While Maxical talked she plucked one of the primroses and tucked it into Abiene's hair where it curved over her delicate ear. Her neck was magnificent, Lildereth was right in describing her as a rare beauty.

"I don't think Jerric exagerates, I think he just sees things others don't sometimes. Lildereth never exagerates, half the time she doesn't say half what's on her mind. She said you had an unusual beauty, she was right. You must know Darnand too. He barely talks, but when he does he's worth listening to. I only see them a couple times a year, but with good friends it's the time you get to see them that matters, not how long goes between. Do you know what I mean? I'm chattering like a magpie again, I'm sorry."


*

Vera kept her regular pace, and maintained focused on the path but her ears still oveheard the conversation Kayla and Aravi had some feet behind her. She recognized the names of the places.

Aravi lived near the shore of Lake Ilinalta, a water source near the town of Falkreath. Small world, Vera mused. Lycus built himself a cottage a few miles off of there when he left Cyrodiil in a self-exile. She's practically neighbors with him . . .

Odd that she wouldn't noticed a large copper-skinned Imperial man chopping wood and hunting, then again he rarely ventures out unless he needs coin.

Whiterun was yet another place she was familar with. It is the home of the Companions. A group of mercenaries who work in Skyrim. Ever since the Fighters Guild, she 'never longed to work for another guild. But her husband already worked for them. The honor and glory of the companions called to a warrior, and the freedom and coin it gave, as well as the brotherly fellowship was too good an opportunity to pass . . . especially with the elite members of the Companions. The Circle. Lycus fit right in, and Vera knew the jobs paid well. The food was free, and she was the right person for the task,

Vera came to a stop as the smell of ash came to her nostrils, and she inhaled the smell and it was smelled of smoke and burnt flesh. The same scent she smelled when she killed vampires. She turned around, and began searching for the source of the smell and at last after thirty seconds or so, she came upon it. A pile of dust and burn cloth and few pieces of coin that must have belonged to the slain vampire before he was killed. But by who?

She knelt over the pile, and picked up the coin and put it in her pocket. "Well, what do you know. Didn't need to declare open season on the suck-heads and one's already dead." She said, mostly to herself. She stood up and gazed around, at the footprints, at the branches. She she stared at each of the signs for a long time before folding her arms at her chest.

Kayla barked a laugh. "Ha! Suckheads! That's a new one!" She grinned momentarily at Vera before remembering they were tracking something. She knelt and sifted through the dust with a thin stick, then sighed. "Damn. I wish I had a vial for the dust. The fresher they are, the better they work." She stood up and glanced around.

"I see..." She cursed in Nordic. "I'm a terrible tracker. I only see two sets of footprints, and that's because one set is larger than the other. Judging from the slides in the mud, there was either a scuffle or a badly-planned dance routine."

She frowned. "This can't be the vampire I killed, or the one Irvana killed. The dust is dry. The rain would have washed it away a long time ago." She sniffed. "And it smells kind of fresh. What do you think, Aravi?"

“It’s definitely fresh. The breeze hasn’t even disturbed it yet.” The fact that there was activity so close to the inn last night worried her. “I wonder if this one died because of the sunlight. It almost looks like someone pulled them out of the shade of the forest to where the sun would kill them. Either they couldn’t get out of the sun, or they didn’t notice until it was too late.” Some of the feral ones are dumb enough to not take note of something like burning to death if there is something they want to eat nearby. I don’t think that’s what happened here though.

“Do we want to follow their tracks back where they came from, or follow the other set of tracks and see where the survivor went?"