User:Damon/The Vampire's Tale/3

Here it is. Part Three of 'The Vampire's Tale. I can't believe people are actually interested in it, but here it is. As always, the talk page is there if you want to comment on the story. Enjoy it.
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The Vampire's Tale: Into the Vampire's LairEdit

The blood was starting to pool on the ground. Crimson-Tail could smell it, despite the fact that the storms had diluted the blood pool. It smelled magical. He was almost tempted to kill the guard right there. The poor man would be an easy kill. He was helpless.

He tried to stand up, using his nearby shield as a support. It was painful, but the guard was able to do it.

"Halt", he yelled as loud as he could. He couldn't fend for himself, but he wanted to make as much noise as possible.

Crimson just kicked the shield aside, then followed through with a backhanded smack. The guard fell down screaming in pain. He bent down, drawing his dagger. He didn't want to feed on the man, having just gorged himself minutes ago on a middle aged Redguard woman. Besides, there was already a guard reporting in to look for a vampire Argonian or Khajiit. Crimson could already hear a few guards coming. With a quick slice, he slit the Captain's throat and took off into the trees, running quickly and silently.

Stopping on a short hill, he knelt down and looked out, his vampiric sight barely able to see the guards finding the body. Looking off to the west, down the other way in the road, he could see a few Legion horsemen riding up the trail. They would find the guardsmen and they would find the dead Captain. Soon, the Imperial Army would be looking around as well. Crimson took off running away from the beaten trail.

Looking off to the right, he could see a rickety old platform and a door. An old cave! He needed to hide for a little bit, and in the cold, terrible weather, there were not a lot of options. Without hesitation, he stepped inside.

It was a cave filled with vampires. They had their own smell. A smell that Crimson was all too familiar with. He slowed down his pace and snuck in further. Further inside were a few broken coffins with sleeping vampires inside. There was a little fire inside the circle the coffins made, and there were two vampires awake. One was dressed rather poorly in nothing but thin rags. The other was different. He wore a rather nice outfit and spoke in an accent that suggested he was a noble. Perhaps from the somewhere in High Rock. Crimson has seen vampires from all across Tamriel, and the ones from High Rock lived like they were still nobles. Crimson, despite being a vampire himself, preferred not to be in the company of vampires, and turned to leave. Just as he was turning, the Daggerfall accent grew louder.

"Hey! Come over here. What are you doing here, dark brother?"

Crimson tuned back, hissing, "What is it to you, Breton?"

The Breton replied quite frankly, "You came in here, I thought you were seeking company. I was just about to return to my home when you arrived. I have not seen you around here before. Perhaps you would like to join us in conversation?"

"Fine. Just for a little bit", Crimson sighed.

He walked over to the fire and took a seat on an old, empty coffin. Hearing the conversation, the other vampires woke. One of them, who Crimson assumed was a leader of sorts walked up to him, sizing him up.

"Jean-Pierre, why do you invite this lizard into our home? You are but a guest here, yourself", the leader said.

The Breton, Jean-Pierre, said, "Think nothing of it. He is jut a wanderer."

The leader drew a sword, and tuned to Crimson. "He is unwelcome. The last few "wanderers" took our supplies, then went into town to rape my wife and leave her for dead."

"Come on, Thorgrim, do you still think of her as your wife? She had left you two years before that."

"It doesn't matter. The lizard leaves."

Crimson stood up, drawing his dagger. "Nord, I kill city guards, I can damn sure kill you!"

Thorgrim laughed a loud, booming laugh. "Bring it on!"

Blades flashed in the firelight. Thorgrim had weight and muscle, but Crimson had speed. He was quickly able to duck and weave, avoiding every swing the Nord made. He pulled an arrow out of the quiver, and he held it up.

Thorgrim laughed again. "That little thing", he said, "that won't even leave a mark. I have chain mail under my shirt!"

Crimson jabbed the arrow into the fire, catching a piece of burning cloth around the head. Jumping back, he drew the bow and readied the arrow. He had a good thirty feet between himself and Thorgrim.

"Nord", he yelled, "Stand down or die!"

"Ha! You can try, lizard!"

The Nord charged him. Without hesitation, Crimson fired. The arrow clipped Thorgrim's shoulder… But only clung loosely to the cloth.

"Is that it?", Thorgrim yelled. "Surely, you can do better than that?" He pulled the arrow from his shirt and dropped it into the fire to burn. He rushed Crimson and before Crimson could ready his dagger to try deflecting it, Thorgrim's iron claymore was run through his shoulder. If Crimson had been any slower to duck, it would have been a heart shot, and he'd be dead.

Crimson, eyes watering, tried to resist the urge to cry in pain or give any indication that he was beat. Thorgrim pulled the blade out, and then lifted it over his head for the kill. Jean-Pierre and the vampire in rags stood quietly to the side, watching intently.

Feigning defeat, Crimson sagged to the ground. Thorgrim swung the blade downwards. Crimson rolled at the last moment towards where his dagger lay, and missed the blow. Before Thorgrim could pull the blade out of the ground, Crimson threw the dagger, hitting him in the base of his neck. He dropped dead instantly. For good measure, Crimson threw the remnants of an old bottle of whiskey on him, and dropped the burning arrow, consuming the body in flames.

Grabbing Thorgrim's blade, he turned to Jean-Pierre.

"Any problems, Breton?", he said.

"No. None at all. I was the one that was being polite, Argonian. Now, can we have a civil talk? Why are you here?"

"I was hiding from the city guard. They are looking for me. I killed a woman, and her baby."

Jean-Pierre sat down in a chair, and stared quietly at Crimson. He could tell that Jean-Pierre had something to say. He would open his mouth a little, then close it again, trying to find the right words. After a long moment of stillness, he finally spoke.

"You… You killed a woman? And a baby? Why a baby? I think you should leave. Get out of here, NOW!" Jean-Pierre stood up, and a fireball lit up in his hand.

Crimson stood up and began slowly backing away. He had some bad experiences with Bretons before. The ones that could summon fire were not ones to be trifled with. In a matter of seconds, Crimson was through the front door, and he could see and feel the fireball go less than a foot over his head.

The cold air made Crimson shiver after being near the fires, but he was free at least. Looking down both directions of the road, he could see Legionnaires and city guard combing the bushes. Seeing an opening in their groups, he ducked, crossed the road into the forests on the other side and set out for the Drunken Dragon and Andreas Draconis.