There was a sickening crunch, and Sofia felt the creature’s gasping breath on her face even as the spasms began. They were almost nose to nose, nothing but the burning red eyes, pale skin and a mouthful of teeth could be seen, and yet the pressure had subsided. In less than a heartbeat the vampiress had suddenly stopped her frenzied attempts to bite her, and instead Sofia watched as its eyes rolled back and it began to convulse.

  A pair of hands, heavy, rough, calloused and strong, ripped the vampire off her and left Sofia gasping with shock. Through the waves of adrenaline and panting from the exertion Sofia instinctively sought out her shortsword from where it had fallen, but as Sofia rolled and bounded to her feet, she was stopped in place by the sight.

  The vampiress was dying, very quickly too with how a two handed forester’s axe had been buried into the back of her skull, but the reactions from the mill workers was confusing to say the least. Three guards, and half a dozen mill hands had come to their aid, but one of the workers was on his knees, cradling the dying vampire even as its flesh began to ignite.

  Some of the old tales seemed to be true at least, or at least those regarding the way that vampires burned when they died. The vampiress, with an axe buried in the back of her skull, ignited from within, the fires stripping the bones bare in a rolling wave of heat and light, singeing her clothes and burning the hands of the man holding her until there was nothing but ash, and fire-blackened bones remaining.

  "By all the gods am I glad to see you all!" Using her fur lined cloak and ignoring the way that grave dirt clung to it from the impromptu wrestling bout, she wiped the vampires drool from her face, looking between Lydia and the men who had come to their assistance. "Hey Lydia, you okay?"

  “Gods blood.” Staggering to her feet, her axe-hand pressed into her chest, Lydia’s voice was little more than a pained wheeze. "I feel like I just got kicked by a horse."

  One of the guards moved over to them, asking a question but Sofia didn’t hear it, her attention was instead being drawn to the smoldering remains and the burly mill worker kneeling in the dirt with ashes and burns on his palms. He had been practically cradling the dying vampire in its last moments and it was obvious that for some reason he was crying.

  “What in all the hells is going on?”

  Red framed eyes, tears streaking his face, the man was obviously distraught, and a couple of the other workers were doing their best to console him, but there was something about the situation that made Sofia grip her retrieved sword a little tighter.

  "She's dead.” The burns on his hands were ignored, as was the way that they and the front of his thick tunic and pants were stained with vampire ashes and dust. “Laelette is dead."

  "Laelette?"

  "My wife. I... I killed her. I thought she had gone to join the Stormcloaks!"

  Eyes darting between the burned skeleton laying in a jumbled pile of ash and bones, and the man practically kneeling on top of them, Sofia’s suspicions were raised and she could see that Lydia was the same the way she was standing.

  “Well, looks to me like she didn’t join the Stormcloaks. She was a damned vampire!”

  "What the hells was she doing out here then?" One of the guards spluttered, looking about the darkness and peering about with the burning torch he had brought with him.

  "A better question is how and why was she a vampire?" A fellow guard hissed. There was a growing sense of unease among the group, who were alternating between staring at the burnt remains and the fog wreathed darkness around them. “There hasn’t been a vampire in the Hold for years.”

  "You." Sofia walked over and nudged the crying nord with her toe. "What's your name?"

  "Thonnir."

  "Well Thonnir. What can you tell us about this bitc-” Sofia caught herself at the last moment and practically bit her tongue. Apparently Kaius and his sense of decorum was rubbing off on her more than she realised. “Your wife? Did you notice anything strange about her before she disappeared?"

  "I... I don't know.” Like a beached fish his mouth opened and closed, eyes darting between the burned remains, Sofia and those who had come with him. “She began to spend a lot of time with Alva. She always used to despise her. In fact… The night she disappeared, she told me that she was going to meet Alva. I got a letter a few days later saying that she had left to join the stormcloaks."

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  Alva. The woman who Hroggar had moved in with, the day after his wife and Helgi died in his house fire. There were way too many strands here connecting together and a glance to Lydia showed that the two of them were thinking the same thing.

  Bells were still tolling in the western portions of Morthal, but as yet there were no other signs that anyone else was approaching. At least, not from the direction of the city. Through the fog and gloom of the moonless night there was… something… a presence that made itself felt in the moments before the silhouettes appeared. The commotion of Sofia’s and Lydia’s fight against the vampiric woman had raised the alarm and drawn attention, but from the deeper portions of the graveyard appeared another pair of individuals.

  They strode out of the mist and the darkness, carrying no lanterns or torches as they came, moving over to the group surrounding Thonnir kneeling over the remains of his wife. Instinctively, there was a shuffling of feet and the guards even dragged their maces free from their belts. The fact that the pair had appeared from the darkness after such an encounter with a vampire was enough to be treated with suspicion, but even the least perceptive of the group could see that there was something subtly wrong about the pair. A man and a woman, entirely underdressed for the evening chill, and staring at them all with disturbing, hungry gazes.

  At first glance there would have been little to set them apart from the thousands of others who called Morthal home. A tunic, pants and boots for the man, but the long, sleek dress on the woman certainly wasn’t something that people would be found wearing during the night in the middle of a cemetery. Then there was the way that they moved.

  Practically stomping and staggering, the man almost appeared to be somewhat intoxicated, following closely behind the woman in a way that gave Sofia the impression of a puppy following its master. The woman however was the epitome of sublime grace, stepping over grave plots and around tombstones as though she was floating across the surface. Every movement was perfect and pronounced, from the sway of her hips, to the way her legs slightly crossed over each other with each step. She was alluring, mesmerising and yet sent fear into the minds of everyone who gazed upon her.

  "Alva." The name dragged itself out of Thonnir’s throat as he looked over and stared the woman in the face. It was a name that he spoke with deep hatred, punctuated, and emphasised by the way that he reached down, and pulled his axe from his wife’s burnt skull.

  The sensation of falling yet again made itself felt, and the small group shied away even as one of the guards stepped forward, brandishing his mace in a non-too-subtle threat.

  "By the authority of Jarl Ravencrone, stop there you two!"

  It was always the eyes. Sofia thought, seeing the burning glows within Alva’s skull as the woman continued on heedless to the guard’s threat. Kaius’s eyes turned black as midnight when his vampire came to the surface, but just like the late Laelette, Alva’s eyes were burning whirlpools of dying fires as she looked between the guard and his weapon. It was little more than a wooden club studded and banded with metal. A weapon for ensuring compliance and breaking up tavern brawls, or teaching pickpockets a lesson, not one for dealing with the vampire standing a few metres away.

  "How quaint. It seems you managed to put Laelette out of her misery." The eyes passed over each of them in turn in a rolling tide of unfathomable willpower. "Good for you."

  "I said stop!" Injecting what little force and authority he could into his voice, the guard stepped forward with the mace raised threateningly, but Alva simply stopped him with a glance and a gesture. At such close range the wave of red-black magicka punched into Sofia’s mind even as it rippled through the group, the vampiress’s eyes glowing fiercely.

  "Looks like I'll be feeding well tonight, wouldn't you say so Hroggar?"

  "Yes, my love."

  "We best be quick though. It won't be long before others arrive." One step at a time she moved closer, gliding over the ground and Sofia found herself unable to do anything but stare at her. In fact, out of the corner of her eye she could see that everyone, the mill workers, the guards, and even Lydia were fixed in place, turning and keeping their eyes on the seductive vampiress channeling magicka into them. Reddish streams were flowing out of her fingertips, the mesmeric gestures swirling the energies through the air coiling around and through their bodies as it soaked into their skin. They were all affected, even Thonnir who had attempted to step towards the vampiress with his axe raised, only to find himself trapped with growing horror and anger frozen on his face.

  "Well, aren't you the pretty one?" Sniffing the air as she moved closer, Alva's eyes roamed over Sofia with a look of someone appraising an expensive piece of jewellery, or a fine cut of meat. "I bet all the men chase after you. Perhaps you will make a better pawn than Laelette."

  Unable to move, neither Sofia nor Lydia were able to do anything as Alva moved into the group, all the while relishing her power over mortals. Following dutifully in her footsteps like a loyal hound, Hroggar was collecting the weapons one at a time, stowing them in the leather pack slung over his shoulder. One of the guards had dropped his mace, and the forester's axes and hatchets were easily enough acquired, but Hroggar had no such ease in acquiring Lydia’s weapon. Even through the vampiric magicka, and the willpower of the cursed being, Hroggar was forced to individually pry Lydia’s armoured fingers open, to finally retrieve Hahkunstun from her unyielding grip and disarm the Huskarl.

  "Now, time to be good little sheep,” Seductive and alluring to men and women alike, Alva’s willpower was absolute, as was her control over her new ‘collection’. One by one they twitched and staggered, their bodies reacting to the vampiress’s powers as she gestured in the air. “and follow your shepherd."

  "How about they stay here, instead?"