Nirn was growing colder. Following the aftermath at the Sacellum, the frost had swept across the realm like a plague. Before it had seemed like nothing more than a freak winter. Now the possibility that this was something more could no longer be ignored. Verdant land was nonexistent, and the population in warm, southern provinces had already been decimated. Even in Hammerfell, finding water warm enough not to shock your throat was impossible.

Some provinces fared better than others. In Skyrim, many citizens were still skeptical of the frigid omen; putting it aside as an early winter.

Others knew better.

Gazing across Lake Ilinalta, Torund is transfixed by the sight of ice before him. Looking closely enough, he swears he could see the ice expand, enveloping the crystalline water like a fog.

Torund: A sight to behold, eh my friend?

Torund closes his eyes, his helmet suddenly weighing heavily.

Torund: Aye... You can't see it at all.

He looks over towards the shack across the bridge. Subtle murmurs escape from inside, giving Torund a gracious distraction from the thoughts in his head.

Torund: Looks like they're finally awake.

Placing his hand on the deck, Torund heaves himself back onto his feet, not bothered by the weight of the massive warhammer on his back.

Torund: Ah...

Torund: This damn cold.

Torund: My muscles tense up after every fight

As Torund finishes, the murmuring from the shack quickly hushes.

Torund: Time to get to work.

Torund: At least this time I won't have to put up with the bitch's screaming

Marching to the shack, the clud of Torund's boots on the wooden deck is replaced a soft crunch of ice underneath.

Beneath the packed ice, remnants of foliage from the land before could be made out.

Torund: Well well, looks like you two are awake.

Inside the shack, the occupants of the mill were forced onto their knees, bound by rope. One of which had a sack pulled taught over her head, keeping a gag Torund had stuffed in her mouth earlier in place.

Torund: Can't put up much of a fight now, can you? Well... you didn't really do that when you were free either

The woman moans stubbornly, swaying her body against the binds. The man however turns and matches Torund's gaze. With calm elegance, he speaks.

Hern: You have indeed bested us. Of course, raiding our home while we slept does not warrant a noteworthy victory.

Torund: Bah! You should always be prepared. Especially in times like these, vampire.

The woman flinches, a suppressed yelp squeaking past her hood. The man calms her and continues.

Hern: I figured you knew what we are. I assure you though, we are not evil like many of our kind. We only wish to live in peace.

Torund: Peace huh? I gotta say, this makeshift hunting shack is almost believable, it may even sway the Dawnguard.

Torund: But I really don't care if it's a ruse or not. The way I see it, every vampire is potentially a part of Molag Bal's army.

Torund: And with the Dragon Break on the way, killing as much of you as I can is the best to prepare as I see it.

The man's complacency wanes. His brows furrow and the earlier cordial tone in his voice fades.

Hern: You'd single us out because of our race? You are no better than the Dawnguard.

Torund smiles and begins to walk towards the man's bound wife.

Torund: Oh no, I'm much worse.

Torund: You'd both be dead already if I were some Dawnguard.

Torund: Unfortunately for you, I like to have a little fun.

Hert: Mmmmpphh!

Hern: You stay away from my wife, mutt! I'll tear you limb from limb.

Torund grabs the woman and throws her over the table. She whimpers through her hood, her body starting to tremble.

Torund: Ooh, you have quite the body.

Torund: It really shouldn't be covered so much. Let's see...

Hern: I said get back, you filth!

Torund tears away the vampire's clothes, ignoring her husband's yells. He traces his hand across her body, relishing every shudder and moan.

Torund: I haven't had a wench like you since that whore in Mistwatch.

His fingers slide further down, coming to the crease of her ass.

Hern: Move your fingers another inch and you're dead! Dead!

Torund groans. Pulling his hand away, he turns to Hern.

Torund: Really? Do you have to do this?

Hern: I'll kill you. You hear me?

Torund: Uh huh. Right.

With a sigh, Torund returns to his feet.

Torund: Let me make something clear.

Hern: Don't you dare say another word!

Hern: You won't live another day, bastard!

Ignoring the vampire, Torund removes his helmet and returns the glare.

Torund: I'm going to fuck your whore wife.

Hern: You bi-

Torund: Then I'm going to kill both of you. And I really don't want to hear your yelling while I do.

Torund: So! I'm just going to have to put this on you.

Hern: Don't even think about it!

Hern: Stay awa- Mmmm!

Torund: Much better.

For once, the man actually stays quiet, not even grumbling through the gag.

Torund turns back to the wife and tilts his head.

Torund: Sorry to keep you waiting

Hert: Mmmmmph...

Torund: Pay close attention, vampire. I'm going to treat your wife the way you never could.

Torund moves in and starts to slide his cock across her ass. This was his favorite part. The victims never reacted the same way. Some would already be struggling, some would go limp at the touch. One bandit even started to moan. This time, the vampire continued to shake.

Torund: You feel that, vampire?

She makes no reply. Only puffs of breath through the hood and her quivering body show she is alive.

Torund: Oh come on, you gotta give me something.

Hern makes no attempt to scream through the gag. Instead breathing harder with strained eyes.

Torund: What if I do this?

Thrusting his cock into her ass spurs a reaction. The vampire yelps and arches her back.

Torund: Ha! There we go!

Torund begins to fuck the vampire in and out. Rapid moans slip through the hood with each thrust, exciting Torund that much more.

Torund: Yes, that's right.

With each moan from his wife, Hern boils with fury. Unable to contain himself he starts to scream through his gag.

As he does, Hert flinches and tries to struggle away.

Torund: Ah ha! Don't even think about it

Torund grabs her shoulders and slams her down onto the table, continuing his assault.

Completely at Torund's mercy, Hert relents. Stifling her moans, she gives in to the assault. As she goes quiet, however, Hern only screams louder.

Torund: Hmmm, seems she's given up.

With the vampire no longer struggling, Torund lifts his hand and no longer holds himself back. All the fun was in their struggle, once his victim's accepted their fate there was no reason to continue.

Torund breaths out as he unloads into the vampire's ass; earning himself a helpless squeal and a vengeful glare.

As soon as he finishes, Torund releases her, causing her to tumble to the ground, shivering.

Torund: Whew. Well she sure didn't last as long as I would have liked.

Hern glowers. His frenzied, stifled screams finally ceasing.

Torund: Ah well... I'll get more opportunities to fuck vampires soon.

Hern: Rrrrgh

Torund: Sorry, didn't quite catch that.

Torund: And I'm afraid I never will. It's time we get to business

Torund: Evil or not, I'm not taking any risks with you vampires.

Torund: When Bal's armies arrive, you will either join them, or be killed.

Torund: It's time you rot like the dead you are, vampire.

Torund lifts his warhammer like an executioner's axe.

Without a sound, Hern stares down the hammer swinging toward his skull. His expression, previously consumed by anger, is replaced by fear.

Torund sends his hammer crashing down. Outside of the shack the only sound to be heard is a crack...

A spatter...

Then silence.

The snow squishes under Torund's boots as he exits the shack. Crimson speckles dot the stark ground at the edge of the window.

Torund: Another one down.

Torund: This is actually becoming quite a drag.

Torund: At least I got a little enjoyment this time.

Torund: The last three didn't have a single woma- Well well...

Torund: There you are!

Torund: Hircine! It's been years

Torund: I really need something interesting to do. Hunting vampires really hasn't been as much a thrill as I had hoped.

Hircine: You have wasted time, hunter. Hunting vampires will not save Nirn.

Torund: Wasted time? I've done the only thing I could!

Hircine: Boethiah's shrine is destroyed. Without her forces there is no way to stopping Molag Bal's invasion when the Dragon Break appears.

Torund: Why do we even care about Boethiah anyway? You know just as well as I do that she is out to reach the same goal as Molag Bal.

Torund: If we help her fight, then we are only aiding in her plans!

Hircine: We do not have choice. And we have dealt with Boethiah's pawns before.

Hircine's words cause Torund to growl.

Torund: Malkor...

Torund: It was a stroke of luck that I won, and I lost my best friend in that battle. He's been gone for years, and I don't think he's just been sitting around all this time.

Hircine: He may be more powerful than before, but it is a risk we have to take. Bal's forces are endless. Dremora from Cold Harbour and the vampire clans of the world are with him.

Torund: Damn it. We're right in the middle of this, huh?

Torund: If Malkor really is the lesser of the two evils, then I'll do whatever you ask.

Hircine: We cannot yet know. Our only choice is to act in the time we have. Head to the Reach. Find Logrulf the Willful. A priest of Boethiah, he has been desecrating the Altar of Molag Bal, and is the last force keeping him out of Nirn.

A frigid breeze billows over Torund. He shivers.

Torund: I hope you're right about this.

Hircine makes no reply, his aspect carried away by the wind.

Feeling a chill, Torund hefts his weapon. The cold steel and quicksilver in his hand washes a calm over him.

Torund: I'll rescue this Logrulf

Torund: But as soon as he is done with the damn ritual, he's going to do something for me.

Torund: He's going to lead me to Malkor.

Despite the changes occurring across Skyrim, Markarth stays as busy as ever. The stalls at the gate are loud as ever. Guards, always abundant, patrol the streets endlessly. A Vigilant of Stendarr tirelessly continues to investigate one of the homes. Life remains largely unchanged. Other than the stark white atmosphere now concealing the great dwemer fortress, the city is as resilient as ever. Until the arrival of a certain dark elf.

Hogni: Bloodiest beef in the reach!

Kerah: The finest jewelry in all of Markarth!

Tyranus: Anyone seen entering or leaving? Any Strange lights or unusual noises?

Yngvar: It's abandoned and it's always been abandoned.

The Silver Blood inn bustles with business. Ever since the cold started settling inn, more and more people have dashed inside shivering. As adventurers and commoners alike would sit curled by the fire, it was easy to sell pints of mead to warm their bellies that much faster.

Even with all the business of late, it was louder than normal.

A courier had arrived the night before, and had been preaching to the guests tirelessly.

Mikhael: I had been running for what seemed like hours!

Mikhael: And then they cornered me! I was trapped.

Mikhael: I thought they were goblins at first, but their skin was white and they had elven ears!

Mikhael: One tried to kill me, but I held it off.

Mikhael: With only my dagger, I held all five of the beasts back. They feared me!

Mikhael: I yelled at one, causing it to flinch. At that moment I swung out and kil-

Vorstag: There's no way you killed a falmer, Mikhael. Just like there's no way you killed a flame atronauch.

Mikhael: You may not believe me now, but I still haven't told you about the Dark Elf who led them.

Mikhael: He told his beasts to retreat, saying I was too strong for them. That only he was able to fight me.

Vorstag: Ha! Yeah right.

Hreinn: Honestly, Mikhael, you can't seriously think we believe you.

Margret: You really don't make any sense...

Mikhael: Fine. The Dark Elf said the world was ending anyway! When that happens you'll see I was telling the truth!

Hreinn: Sure, Mikhael. If you say so.

Vorstag: See you later, almighty warrior Mikhael!

Mikhael: Fuck you, man!

Mikhael: Fuck all of you guys!

Mikhael: Just you wait, I'll prove you all wrong!

Mikhael shakes his head in frusturation.

Mikhael: Jerks.

Mikhael: Why does nobody ever believe me...

Voice: I believe you.

Mikhael: Wh-what?

Voice: I said I believe you.

Mikhael: That's great! But, uh, who are you?

Voice: Oh, I go by many names.

Voice: You can call me Castalia. But don't worry about that, Mikhael. I have been looking for you.

Mikhael: Wait, really? W-why?

Castalia: You say you fought a group of white elves led by a Dark Elf, yes?

Castalia: And you survived combat with that elf. Most impressive.

Mikhael: Ah, well...

Mikhael bites his lip. He felt fine telling his story to the patrons, however this Dark Elf was definitely not a normal customer. But she actually believed him! Even if she found out he was lying, the repercussions couldn't be that bad.

Mikhael: But of course! We couriers are bred of a different stock! Not any ole person can do our job.

Castalia: You certainly are more than meets the eye.

Castalia: Come with me. I think we should talk somewhere a little more... private

Mikhael: W-w-what?

Mikhael feels butterflies dance in his stomach. This couldn't possibly be going where he thinks it is.

Mikhael: You mean like, just us two?

Castalia: Of course. Someone as strong as yourself sounds... exhilarating.

Sucking in a breath, Mikhael chases after the woman. He had never been with a woman so stunning, or one at all for that matter; with a spring in his step, he decides to keep that to himself.

Mikhael: So, uh... what's so special about this Dark Elf?

Castalia: You don't know who he is and still managed to fight him?

Castalia: Incredible.

Castalia: I happen to know the man you speak of. His name is Malkor.

Castalia: He is very dangerous and plans to take part in the destruction of the world.

Mikhael: Y-yeah! He said something like that to me. You mean he was serious?

Castalia: Very serious.

Castalia: But you don't really care about all this, right?

Castalia: We can talk more once I'm through with you.

Mikhael stands speechless, his pants already starting to feel tighter.

Mikhael: Uh, I... You... wow

Much to Mikahel's relief, the inn keeper hollers from down the hall; stopping him from making a further fool of himself.

Klepper: Hey! You gotta pay for that room or get out of the inn.

Mikhael: Sorry, Klepper! I'll be sure to pay right away.

Klepper: Then get down here a-

Castalia: Old man! You can walk your ass up here and get it yourself.

Mikhael: Uh, hey, it's really no pro-

Castalia: I really didn't like your tone

Castalia: Oops

Castalia: I dropped it

Klepper: Look you...

Castalia: Oh stop trying to act all tough

Castalia: We both know you aren't going to do anything.

Klepper grunts, but turns around in defeat, returning to the bar.

Mikhael: That seemed a little rough

Castalia: You think? I can get a little heated sometimes

Castalia: Now come on. It looks like you're getting excited.

Castalia softly closes the door. As it seals with a soft thud, she turns to face Mikhael who stands uncomfortably by the edge of the bed.

Mikhael: Um, so...

Mikhael: Do we just...

Mikhael realized just how incompetent he sounded. He couldn't ruin this now, not when he was so close. He quickly shuts up, trying to hide it, but Castalia sees right through him.

Castalia: Nervous?

Castalia: Aww, don't be embarrassed. I have that effect even on the most experienced men.

Mikhael: Ha, well I assure I'm very exp-

Mikhael cuts off as Castalia shoves him onto the bed.

Mikhael: Oof!

Mikhael: What was that f-

Mikhael: By the eight...

Castalia stands at the other end of the room. Starting by carefully resting her sword against the wall, she begins to undress.

Castalia: You see, Mikhael...

Castalia: Your encounter with Malkor was no coincidence.

Castalia: Neither is your encounter with me

Mikhael tries to listen but the words slip by him; his eyes glued to the sight in front of him.

Castalia: Each life is a strand on a web, crossing over one another at fixed points.

Castalia: This is where ours meet.

Castalia turns around to see Mikhael laying frozen on the bed, flabbergasted.

Castalia: Oh, honey...

Castalia: You do realize you have to take off your clothes as well.

Mikhael hastily sits up, flustered.

Mikhael: R-right!

He impatiently tears away his clothing, leaving it all in a heap on the floor aside from his hat.

Mikhael: I-I'm ready now

Castalia: Oh my... even more rugged than I imagined

Castalia: Go ahead and lay down

Mikhael's heart skips a beat. He can't believe all this was happening. Shaking with anticipation, he turns over and lays flat against the stone bed. As soon as he does, Castalia pounces atop him, casuing him to nearly choke on his own breath.

Castalia: Careful now. I don't want you out of breath this early.

Mikhael watches in thrilled bewilderment as Castalia lowers herself atop his cock. When he felt it slip in he nearly cries out in excitement.

Mikhael: Oh wow...

Castalia: You like that?

Mikhael: Y... yeah

Castalia: Oh yes!

Castalia: You're so good, Mikhael

Mikhael can barely form his lips to speak, managing only loud moans.

Mikhael: Oooooooh!

With enough sexual experience, Castalia could tell when a man was about to orgasm. With Mikhael's breathing picking up, she knew it was about time to drop the act.

Castalia: You've had you fun.

Castalia pulls away, sliding out Mikhael's still throbbing cock.

Castalia: It's time we move on.

Mikhael looks up, confused.

Mikhael: Huh? Why? I'm not done yet.

Castalia: I could not care less if you are done or not.

Castalia: You are probably the worst sex I've ever had

The sword against the wall begins to rattle.

Castalia: And I've fucked every one of my kills.

The rattling speeds up. Mikhael's heartbeat following suit.

Mikhael: W-w-what are you talking about? Kills?

The sword dislodges from rest, ceasing it's rattling against the stone walls; but accelerating the thudding in Mikhael's chest.

The blade then flies through the air, so fast it seems to teleport into Castalia's palm.

Castalia: That's right. Kills. I guess you could say it's a turn on of mine.

Mikhael tries to run but his body won't respond. A lump forms in his throat, sealing any chances of mustering a scream.

Castalia: I can't have you spreading word that Malkor is back. His weave in this world is dangerous, and I don't appreciate anyone else meddling with it.

Castalia: But your weave? Tonight is where ours cross paths, and when yours...

Castalia: Is cut.

Castalia: Not even a scream huh?

Castalia: He was louder in bed than in death.

Without taking a second glance, Castalia hops off the bed and collects her clothing from the floor. She redresses, finishing by slinging her sword back across her back.

Castalia: Hopefully that innkeeper won't notice until I'm gone.

Castalia: That makes one strand cut...

Castalia: Two more to go.

To be continued...