H-help... me...

Talen... I'm dead.

I was already dead...

You could never kill me...

You could never save me...

Talen flies awake in a pant. His chest heaves and the fur blanket beneath him is coated with sweat.

Despite being fully clad in armor from the previous night, Talen feels a grasping chill. He pulls himself up and tries to take in the heat of the fire, accepting the warmth like an outstretched hand.

This is the third night in a row he has had the same dream; maybe "nightmare" would better describe it. Every waking hour he spends trying to fend off the anguish in his heart. Distracting himself with the Dawnguard helps during the day, but at night he is left in solace. The memories crawl and scuttle back into his mind like insects, burrowing inside to never come out.

Talen: I know, Isabel. I know it's my fault.

Talen takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes and gives a slight, solemn shake of his head before forcing himself to his feet.

Talen: But I swear on my dying breath I will make up for it.

Talen: I will avenge you.

Talen: Even if I have to bring it upon myself.

Just like the nightmare, the same promise has been made every day. Somehow it brings upon a familiar levelheadedness. It gives him strength, a purpose. It gives him all he really has now.

Talen strides from the room, already hearing the loud commotion of Fort Dawnguard in the adjacent hall. He must have slept in again. The soldiers are usually only active after having a hearty midday meal.

As Talen makes his way through the doorway, a burly dawnguard swerves around the corner, thudding into his shoulder.

Talen: Woah, hey slow do-

Dawnguard: Shut up, recruit.

Dawnguard: You're the new one here. Know your place.

Talen: Hey, we're both in this...

Talen's voice trails off as the man is already walking past him.

Talen: ...together, I guess.

Talen rubs his neck, standing in the middle of the hall, suddenly unsure of what to do. Men and women of the dawnguard bustle by, some rushing and shouting "coming through!" while others trod besides one another proclaiming tales of their last patrol.

Talen recognizes most of them from the large group suppers the soldiers eat together. Thought he doubts any of them would recognize him as anyone but "the new guy"; and even that is wishful thinking.

There is Borgal and Gus, the only two soldiers in a patrol of two. Their achievements in guerilla tactics are well known by everyone from Gus' insipid recounts and Borgal's overly exclamatory efforts to tell them as exciting as they actually were, or so he boasts.

Talen turns to his right, deciding to start things off in the kitchen, and nearly brushes shoulders with Rick, a war torn veteran with an itch for battle. No one has ever seen him without his helmet. He never removes it, warning all who ask that it stays on to hide a nasty scar he received in battle. With his previous squad killed off, none have been able to confirm or deny, but the consistent twitching of his neck leaves little room for doubt.

As Talen enters the kitchen he is greeted by Agmaer, the freshest recruit prior to Talen. He was one of the few people actually friendly towards him rather than indifferent, though Talen isn't always thrilled to see him.

Agmaer: Good mornin', Toolun!

Talen: It's Talen, Agmaer. Tay-Len.

Agmaer: Err, Tayloon?

Talen: Sure, fine. Whatever.

Doing all he can to keep from groaning, Talen starts to takes a seat at the opposite end of the table. Just as he swings his leg over the bench however, the hollering of familiar voices stops him. Hoping they are who he thinks, he makes his way towards them.

Talen: Is that...

Talen: H-hey!

Vorn: Huh? Hey! Talen! Get down here, friend!

Vorn: About time you woke up.

Talen jogs to Vorn's side, a sudden relief filling him.

Talen: What's going on here?

Vorn smiles.

Vorn: Heh, a little wager that's been going on in our squad for quite some time now.

Vorn: Davey says that Mike can't beat him in combat. Mike says otherwise despite losing every time, hahaha!

Vorn: Funny thing is, the loser buys us all drinks and I'm pretty sure Mike is clean broke now! Bwahahaha!

Talen can barely suppress his laughter as he watches Vorn bawl, his whole body lurching with him. He keeps going until he starts to wheeze and straightens himself out like nothing happened. Dragging a finger below his eye, he continues.

Vorn: Anyway, you should watch. Skirmishes are common place in our squad, you could learn a thing or two.

Davey: Take this!

Mike: Oof!

Talen: This is a skirmish? Aren't those actual weapons?

Vorn shrugs.

Vorn: Nah, they're kinda dull, I think.

Vorn: Besides, Davey won't use his until the end anyway.

Talen: What do you mean?

Davey: Yaaaa!

Mike: Doh! W-w-woooaaahhh!

Vorn: Well, Davey is the kind of guy who attacks firsts asks questions later. Mike on the other hand takes things slow, analyzing his opponent before attacking and what not.

Talen: Mike doesn't seem to be doing that very well...

Vorn: Exactly. Davey's a berserker; fast, ferocious, and agile, which makes Mike...

Vorn: ...completely overwhelmed.

Mike: Waaaaaaaaah!

Davey: Gya!

Davey: Hyaaaaaaa!

Talen: What the! Is he trying to kill him?

Vorn tilts his head, his composure unaffected by the deadly "skirmish" happening in front of him.

Vorn: No, Davey will probably miss. Lets just hope Mike thinks the same. We don't want him dodging into it.

Davey: Ha! Nice dodge, Mike.

Mike: Shut up!

Talen: What!? He did dodge! He could've gotten hurt right there!

Vorn: Well it worked out, right?

Talen: That is a terrible mentality to have!

Vorn: I mean... Maybe.

Vorn: I guess things could be toned down a little.

Talen: Ugh geez...

Talen: At least it's over.

Davey stands triumphant while Mikey wallows on the dirt below.

Davey: Good fight, Mike. I wasn't expecting that attack at the start, caught me off guard.

Mike: Mmmm. It wasn't good enough.

Mike: I really planned this one out too. I thought for sure I had it.

Davey chuckles behind his helmet.

Davey: Well there's your problem, bud. You can't plan for what you can't predict, believe me.

Davey turns and extends his hand.

Davey: Come on, sitting there won't solve anything.

Mike gives a huff and shakes his head, rattling his helmet with it. He takes the offer and is hoisted back to his feet.

Vorn: It was a good effort Mike. Looking forward to drinks tonight.

Talen: That was intense. I really don't know how you two can do that so often.

Mike and Davey share a look. Davey nudges his head to the side, earning a light chuckle from Mike who nods back.

Davey: Well you're about to find out, bud!

Talen's heart skips a beat.

Talen: Wait... You don't mean-

Davey: I sure do! You and me, Talen. Let's go!

Talen: Well, uh... I... You see, erm...

Talen fumbles over his words, his tongue in knots and his stomach a nest of butterflies. He knows he won't be able to talk his way out of this. To his relief, a shout from inside the fort interrupts the challenge.

Voice: The gate! Open the gate!

Talen: What? What's going on?

Vorn: I'm not sure, but we should probably check it out. Lets go!

Vorn leads the squadron from the caves and into Fort Dawnguard's front entrance. The light from the sun gleams down from the open slits atop the tower, illuminating the stone floor and glistening the water beneath the metal grates.

The leader of the dawnguard, Isran, stands menacingly in the center. Alongside him is Celann, wearing the same calm demeanor he always has. Crouched over before them, panting with his hands on his knees, a Vigilant of Stendarr forces himself to speak between breaths.

Vigilant: It's overrun...

Vigilant: The city... is taken.

Isran: What are you talking about?

Talen slows from a jog as he approaches the scene. He sees the Vigilant panting, his eyes filled with dread and dismay.

Vigilant: The Daedra, Isran... I'm talking about the Daedra.

Taken by curiosity, Talen marches toward the vigilant. Without thinking, he takes control of the investigation, demanding his own answer before Isran can respond.

Talen: The Daedra. Tell me about them.

A queer robustness consumes him. Whatever the Vigilant says doesn't matter, somehow Talen already knows who he speaks of.

Vigilant: They were fully armored, head to toe, yet silent as a fox.

Talen: Oblivion. From which realm did they come?

The Vigilant looks at Talen in bewildered discontent.

Vigilant: How am I supposed to know th-

He suddenly cuts off. His eyes grow wide and he meets Talen's gaze.

Vigilant: Bal. Molag Bal.

Vigilant: They were dremora of destruction.

(Quick note: this spoiler is written in the speech of the vigilant. To display this, all non dialogue will be put in italics and regular dialogue will display as normal.)

It was mid morning in Riften. The day started off dark and dreary, but was rapidly improving.

Much like the weather, Riften has been making stunning improvements since the frost's arrival. When the blizzard's stopped, the Jarl instituted a city wide reformation, cleaning the boardwalks of snow and making the city livable once again.

I did not expect the town to actually go through with it. I'm sure you all know the hold's reputation. But to my pleasant surprise, everyone pitched in, including myself.

I was stationed in the town for a couple of weeks. When the frost began, we in the Vigil knew it had to be a result of Daedric activity. To respond, Keeper Carcette sent high ranking Vigilants to each of the major holds and report anything suspicious. I thought I was unlucky to get stuck with Riften, but after being there a while, I grew accustomed to the city.

Vigilant: Anything new today, Marise?

Marise: Of course. I get fresh meals every day, Dennis. You should have figured that out by now.

Dennis: I just find it so hard to believe you can still find food in this climate.

Marise: Skyrim farmers know their stuff. They can grow anything, even in this cold.

Dennis: Speaking of which, have you considered what I said about the frost's causes?

I spoke with Marise every morning, initially just for breakfast, but it quickly formed into a a mild acquaintanceship. I was growing comfortable in Riften.

A little too comfortable.

In my laxness, I was starting to forgo my duties. Just as much as I was sent to investigate Riften, I was also sent to guard it.

I did not even know it, but I had already failed.

Looking back, however, I'm not sure there was anything I could have done anyway.

You can't possibly expect an attack in broad daylight. I know what you're thinking, Isran. We vigil are incompetent, unprepared, and naive. But even you would not have known of their arrival.

This was no rabble of homeless spawns. These were dremora hunters. Their armor is thick, their weapons broad.

They entered our realm for one reason...

...to end the Aedric reign.

Marise: I'm sorry, Dennis. But I can't join your cause. I just don't believe daedra could have caused a worldwide freeze.

Dennis: I understand... It can be a lot to wrap your head around.

I never stopped trying to convince the townsfolk to join our cause. Nobody ever agreed.

But as it turns out...

...it didn't even matter.

Marise: Guh!

Dennis: Marise! No!

In one swift maneuver they attacked. They appeared seemingly out of thin air, I'm not sure anyone saw it coming.

Riften Guard: Ah!

Shadr: Aaiiieeee!

I only counted a few, but I doubt there were many more.

The power those lone daedra hold... I cannot begin to describe it. Those who had the chance to draw swords fought bravely.

Riften Guard: You dare challenge the might of Riften?

Riften Guard: You will fall where you stand, Daedra!

But even the most steadfast warriors were nothing but a pebble in their way.

I however, would not go down so easily.

Dennis: Daedric worm! Prepare your-

Dennis: Woah!

It was faster than anything I'd ever seen. It was turned away from me, yet in an instant it was attacking, jutting out it's fingers, armored like talons, towards me.

Dennis: How... Grrrrrr

I don't know how I avoided it, but I've been in combat enough times to know not to pass up the opportunity.

Dennis: HRAH!

I shot to my feet, jabbing out with my knee in attempt to knock the beast off balance. Yet once again it moved in the blink of an eye, ducking clean under my leg.

I had no time to recuperate. Before I could even finish my swing the daedra had moved behind me completely.

Dennis: What!?

It had been silent the whole fight, but as it grasped hold of my tunic I swear I heard it laugh.

Daedra: Heh...

The next thing I knew I was in the air.

Dennis: Gah!

My body thudded into the wooden floor boards. I heard a loud crack as it did, from either the wood or my back I don't know. My head was ringing and the world spun around me.

I forced myself to look through blurred eyes, barely fending off unconsciousness. I could just make out two more dremora advancing on me from the side.

My opponent was slowly marching towards me as if stalking his kill.

I couldn't even fight one of them, much less three. I was out of time, out of chances, and, with the city lost, out of a mission.

Except that's where I was wrong. Riften was not lost; not yet. I forced myself back to my feet, doing everything I could to keep from falling over.

I felt like I was moving through the marsh, the air around me was thick like water.

It took everything in me to get to my feet. I don't know where I got the strength to run, but I found myself charging towards the railing.

Dennis: Yaaaaaa!

With the dremora swarming the city streets, I only had one place to flee.

Forcing all my strength into my legs, I leaped forward...

...and dove into the canal.

Dennis: I swam underneath the dam and ran here as fast as I could. None followed me, I'm sure of it.

Dennis: Isran, this is something you cannot ignore. The realms of Oblivion are at your doorstep!

As Dennis told his story Isran listened intently and in silence, as did the rest of the dawnguard. Most soldiers in the fort had gathered around and now stand anxiously along the room's perimeter.

An uncomfortable silence hangs in the dusty, thick air as Dennis finishes his recount. Isran just stares at him, unblinking. The soldiers start to fidget in place, unsure of whether they should speak up.

Talen on the other hand, feels more focused than ever.

Dennis: Isran, please!

Dennis: Say something. Anything!

Isran lets out a low, drawn out groan.

Isran: What do expect me to do, hmm?

Isran: Deploy my entire garrison to lay siege on a city of vagrants?

Dennis: What? No, y-

Isran: Riften is insignificant, Dennis. There is no gain from retaking it.

Talen: Are you crazy!? Of course there is! Uh-

Talen quickly cuts himself off. He has no idea where that outburst came from. Every eye in the room turns towards his and a lump starts to form in his throat.

Talen: Uh-I... I just meant...

Isran: Watch it, boy.

Isran: You don't give orders here, recruit. Do not interrupt me.

Talen: I apologize... sir. But please, just hear me out.

Even as far away as he is, Talen can hear Isran's teeth grinding.

Isran: Fine. You have one minute.

Talen: Well that isn't really much ti-... Okay okay.

Talen clears his throat. He takes a deep breath, feeling every stare as the few precious seconds he has begins to tick away. Then, exhaling all of his trepidation and fear, his muscles loosen, his head clears, and he begins.

Talen: This fight... it is not a fight for the dawnguard.

Talen: There isn't going to be a fight for the dawnguard, the vigil, or any group ever again.

Talen: Because out there our enemy doesn't see our differences. It doesn't matter to them.

Talen: They will kill each and every one of us no matter what brand we place upon ourselves.

Talen: They are united against one enemy. Man.

Talen: And that is the only group we are a part of now.

Talen: The city of Riften is among us, and it is our duty to go to their aid.

Talen concludes abruptly. He waits with bated breath as Isran closes his eyes in contemplation.

Isran: Hm.

Celann: Sir? What are your orders?

Isran shakes his head and sighs.

Isran: Damn it.

Isran: Our people needs us then, huh? Very well.

Isran: Prepare for battle. We have a city to save.

To be continued...