Elder scrolls: Dead and damned

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"Well, what is this? It looks like the dog has one more trick to show before he rolls over for good." Erikur's lips pulled back in a predatory grin as more and more undead rose to their feet. "I'm glad; I do love a challenge every now and then. Come then, show me what you're capable of."

The raised dead charged.

As he skipped back from the first charge, the old vampire's face was just as calm as it had been before. However, as more foes surrounded him, as more blades and claws shot out from unexpected places to strike, his eyes began to narrow, his brows drawing together. The blade of a draugr grazed Erikur's arm, cutting the fabric and drawing blood, and though he lashed out with astonishing speed to bring the draugr down, at the same time, the claw of a vampire caught his thigh, bringing him to his knees.

Erikur continued to take down the dead left and right, but with his mobility hindered, he was soon swamped. Before long, all that could be seen was a writhing mass of limbs and bones. It seemed the fight was soon to be over when something strange happened. A rippling emanated from within the heaped forces of the recently reanimating, forcing them all a step back.

"Enough is enough. I tire of this farce."

It was Erikur speaking, and yet it was something... more, as if somehow another, deeper harmonic had entered the vampire's voice. Suddenly, a deep purple claw shot out from the melee, plunging straight through the armoured chest of the Keeper. The servant of the soulstone shrieked as it faded away into nothing. An instant later, chaos erupted. Suddenly the majority of Ennoc's remaining forces were sent scattered in all directions, smashing into the sides of the cave before collapsing.

Where Erikur had stood was a... thing. Though it was garbed in Erikur's tattered and torn finery, this is where the resemblance ended. All else was the topic of nightmares: a bestial, merciless face, long, distended arms and legs that strange deep purple hue; even strange, twisted wings had extended out from where Erikur's shoulders had been. This, this was a true monster.

"Now, necromancer, you die." Erikur strode towards Ennoc, murderous intent clear upon his monstrous face.


Sylette moved through the narrow tunnels as fast as she could without losing her way. It had been a long time since she had been in these caves, and they were confusing enough; the smaller path was even more difficult to negotiate than the more open route.

Fortunately, her memory did not fail her and she soon arrived at her destination: the throne room. Stepping out into the large cavern, which unlike all other caves she had seen was lit by candlelight. The room was empty, save for a shattered table and the large throne which dominated the view. Atop this throne was a vampire, but this vampire did not fit the mould. He was... ancient. And for once, it showed, in both his lined, sagging face and his slumped posture.

"Ah, Sylette." The vampire's voice was deep and strong, at odds to his frail appearance. "I had a feeling you'd turn up now. What devious timing. While all of my power is in another, you come to find me." His eyes narrowed in mock concern. "But you left your necromancer without protection against my General? Why, Sylette, you were the only one who could ever hold up against him, and you think that mortal will survive?"

"That is none of your concern," she said flatly as she strode towards the throne and began climbing the steps. Despite all the times she had imagined this scene, thought of all the things that she would say, none of it came out. Now that she was actually here, she just wanted to get it over with. "But I will say this: Ennoc is stronger than he appears. I have not seen one like him for quite some time." She arrived at the top step of the dais, staring into the other vampire's watering, pale eyes.

"You claimed this day would come." His lips trembled as they tried to form a smile. "But I never truly thought I would see the day." The old vampire bared his pale neck as he closed his eyes. "You have won, Sylette. Be done with it."

"Goodbye, father," she whispered as she leaned forward and bit into his neck.


Erikur had his hand raised to strike Ennoc down when a look of surprise crossed his twisted features. Without a word, the vampire dropped to his knees, his clawed arm dropping to his side. But already, that claw was beginning to recede into his body, a very human hand reappearing. As quickly as the transformation had happened, it was reversed, and there before Ennoc slumped a sliced, mangled, broken man. "I can't believe she actually did it..." Came the murmur through torn lips.

Still, the fire in those red eyes burned no less fiercely as they stared up Ennoc. "I may be beaten, but if you think one such as you can bring me down, even in this state..." Erikur spat, a bloody glob that landed wetly on the stone floor.

All around the cavern, the broken bodies of undead lay, unmoving. All save for one.

Behind Erikur, a lone draugr rose slowly to its feet.
 
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As the beast that instilled so much fear within Ennoc fell to its weakened knees, its power fading like ash in the wind, the necromancer could not help but laugh. His laughter filled the dark halls of the cave system, the echo bouncing and returning making it seem like there were so many more amused by this turn of events. But Ennoc wasn't laughing to humiliate or insult, it was a response of having stared his death straight in the face, having to accept his final hour, only to come out on top.

"You asked me my name, vampire." He said, as he halted his chuckling. "Yet minutes before I was too afraid to give it. I am Ennoc of Karthwasten, the necromancer of Lost Valkygg and you needn't worry for your strength shall be put to good use." From his pouch Ennoc took out an empty black soul gem.

He didn't have much magicka left, but a soul trap spell was child's play. The tendrils of the soul arts infused themselves with the vampiric general right before the draugr lunged with his burning greatsword. The fire and steel came crashing down upon the once mighty creature, its blade stabbing the vampire straight through the chest, splitting its dark heart in two. As the spirit of Erikur faded, his soul flowed into the soul gem in Ennoc's hand forever dooming the nightspawn to both serve Ennoc and as currency for the ideal masters.

Just as the Breton stored the soul gem away he felt just how exhausted he actually was; the commanding of undead, the fighting of vampires, the calling upon the soul cairn,... it had all drained him more than he expected, but rest would have to wait. Ennoc got to his feet and scoured the remaining caves for his reward. The library filled with ancient secrets wasn't hard to find; since the necromancer's nose had gotten used to foul stench of the vampire den, the unique scent of dusty books stood out.

The entire collection was amazing, while Ennoc himself held enough books to start a small library, this was something completely different. Hundreds of tomes collected over the ages, so much so that it rivalled or even surpassed the arcanaeum of the college of Winterhold. A wizard or scholar would require several lifetimes to read them all, perhaps this is why it was the collection of immortal beings, but Ennoc only desired a small portion of it.

Immediately he began searching for anything that involved necromancy or the undead and he found much to his desire; pages upon pages of lost knowledge and ancient spells. Dark secrets of lichdom and immortality, accounts of Potema's darkest rituals hand written by her vampiric generals, inside information of Coldharbour and Molag Bal, and so much more. As it appeared, the vampire Sylette held up her word.
 
Sylette did not know what to do when the body crumpled to the ground. Draining the Ancient Vampire's essence had been a mind-opening experience. Centuries upon centuries of knowledge had flowed through her, nestling in the corners of her mind for a brief moment before flitting back away. It was all she could do to hold on to the most important information she could perceive; but trying to deem what was important and what was not was like trying to find specific grains of sand on a beach. Still, her eyes were opened to rituals, powers, and abilities that she'd never even dreamed of, things that most any vampire would kill to discover. It was invigorating, exhilarating.

And yet she felt exhausted.

Time passed; exactly how much, Sylette was unsure. It was only when she turned and began to retrace her steps through the caves that she even began to think of Ennoc. Had he endured for long enough to witness Erikur's loss of power? Or was the vampire even now feeding on her ally, regaining the strength he would need to fight her? Sylette laughed, but without any of her usual vigour. If the general was still alive, she was confident she could put him down as simply as a dog. The power that he had held was hers now.

Confusion met her when she reached Erikur's body, surrounded by the scattered corpses of undead. Not confusion at how he had been defeated - truly, it seemed the Ennoc was the man she had been searching so long for - but at Ennoc's absence from the scene. Had he died even as he dealt the killing blow? But if so, where was his body. A thought occurred to her, and even in her exhausted state Sylette could not contain a smirk.

"I thought I would find you here."

Sylette leaned against the vast doorway of the library, arms folded over her chest as she looked over Ennoc. The Breton was dirty, the dried blood under his nose contrasting the deathly pale pallor of his face. Yet despite this, miraculously, he appeared to be unharmed. "You look awful," she remarked as she slowly stepped into the room, moving towards the nearest bookshelf.

She ran a hand over a dusty tome: The Darke Arts of the Vampyre and how to Countere Them. A truly entertaining read, if she remembered correctly. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the pile of books and manuscripts already beginning to gather around Ennoc. "I take it you are pleased by your findings? I always told you I would make it worth your while."

Had she been any less exhausted, Sylette would have gloated further. As it was, she simply turned back to the bookshelf, her fingers slowly tracing tome after tome.
 
Ennoc didn't bother to look up as he heard Sylette enter the room and gloat, he was too busy reading a captivating and detailed retelling of Potema's final destructive ritual in the throne room of the blue palace much at the cost of her remaining thanes and servants. "You did," he responded "I have indeed gotten what I was looking for. ...Did you?" She had never mentioned or remarked on why she actually wanted the death of the Wydernfell clan. Truth be told, Ennoc didn't care, but after such a... unique experience he just lived through, he could use a little playful banter.

The necromancer began searching for knapsacks or backpacks to store all the knowledge he acquired in for the journey home. Despite the fact he had already gathered several dozens of books in regards to his field of research, his remaining draugr servant kept bringing him more. Ennoc didn't know why he was surprised, Vampires have an affinity for the dark arts after all, it would make sense they of all beings would gather such knowledge.

Gently and carefully, the Breton closed the journal of the vampire commander and finally turned to Sylette. She looked... different, her holding that unique visage similar to how the eyes of a novice mage look right after they've mastered a new spell. Even in her piercig red eyes it was unmistakable. "You seem different.Something happened to you, didn't it?"
 
"Different? Me? Why, how very observant of you, Ennoc." Her tone was dry, but there was a grudging bit of humour within the statement.

It was not a false compliment. Despite the way she felt, Sylette knew that to most, should would simply appear as beautiful and terrifying as she always did. Ennoc had sharp eyes - either that, or he was actually able to read her face, something that mildly horrified the vampire. Most who had looked upon her as often as he were either undead themselves, or did not live for long after the fact.

"I had a debt which needed to be repaid," she said simply, her eyes flashing. "My conscience is now clear... Well, clearer than it was, anyway."

The exhaustion must have gotten to her, for Sylette began to laugh: rich, pealing notes of actual mirth, rather than the cruel laughter that had been the only kind Ennoc had ever heard from her before.
 
"I didn't think you would have a conscience." Ennoc said as his draugr arrived with several empty knapsacks. Each could about up to ten books and were filled rather swiftly and mounted upon the undead servant since there was no way Ennoc would carry more than one.

"The books I've gathered here go above and beyond what I expected, in return you can stay in Valkygg for as long as you desire. I know you've already taken up residence, but now you have my hospitality. For what it's worth." This wasn't an invitation often given by the Breton, but the prizes of the library was far worth it. Besides, Ennoc suspected she knew more that could be of use to him, not to mention the fact that Sylette knew many of his secrets and it was anything but wise to have those wander Tamriel without supervision.

"I'm planning on returning to the carriages, it's been a long day and I could use the rest." And with that he walked out of the library with his undead bearing most of the books in tow, passing her without giving her a look worthy for his eyes were locked upon the book in his hands.
 
"The books I've gathered here go above and beyond what I expected, in return you can stay in Valkygg for as long as you desire. I know you've already taken up residence, but now you have my hospitality. For what it's worth."

Such an offer was so surprising that Sylette didn't know what to say. She remained silent as Ennoc walked past her and out of the library, her fingers instinctively tracing the spine of book after book. While she had already planned on returning to Valkygg - and had planned out several ways to prevent Ennoc from removing her - inhabiting a place and actually being invited to remain were two complete different things. Sylette had been offered the homes of many during her years, but this was only the second invitation she had received in all her Unlife that hadn't been driven by lust.

The first... Memories washed over of a much younger, more foolish Sylette running her hands over these very same books.

Sylette thought ahead: soon, word would spread of the eradication of the Wyrdenfell Clan. When it did, these caves would be teeming with adventurers eager to discover what treasures were lying in wait. There was little in the caves - in all of Nirn, for that matter - that she cared for, but this library was one of them, and she did not wish to see it spoiled by bumbling, horn-helmed Nords with a lust for gold.

And so when the vampire exited the room, she turned, shutting the doors behind her. Reaching into a newly acquired source of magic - or was it simply newly discovered? - Sylette called forth an Illusionary spell of Concealment that was both far more powerful and complex than any she'd ever attempted before. Her newfound power worked: the rock walls on either side of the door began to smoothly spread over the ornate wooden doors, until in moments it looked as though there was simply an unbroken stone wall.

Smiling to herself, Sylette made sure to pull up her hood before following Ennoc's path back into the sun.
 
Chapter three: ancient relic
​
In the days that followed their return to Labyrinthian and Lost Valkygg Ennoc had sealed himself in his study, completely cut off from the outside world. The tomes and books recovered from the vampire's archive were filled with such invaluable knowledge that the necromancer often lost track of time to the point he sometimes forgot which day it was.

Endless experiments were done behind the locked doors of his study with unnatural lights shining through the cracks of the door and dark chants that made the entire building shake with power drawn from whatever plane Ennoc communicated with. Some of the rituals were so unstable that the raw power that flowed from whatever entity the Breton conjured up made even the draugr act violent and irrational towards even each other.

Eventually Ennoc emerged from both his chamber of experimentation and the captivating knowledge of the ancients, he was paler than snow and looked even more like a corpse than the draugr that served him, but even the smallest child could feel the inhuman power flowing from his being. Whatever he did behind those closed door, it changed him in ways that perhaps he didn't even know.

And yet, he didn't stop his research for his health or his peace of mind, but because he had run out of certain materials; black soul gems mostly. Without so much as a word to Sylette he had packed and left for Fellglow keep, perhaps he had even forgotten she was still there. Perhaps he just didn't care.

Several days later he returned, this time actually looking healthy, but with more than he bargained for. While his satchel was filled to the brim with soul gems, under his arm he held an item wrapped in a sheet. A strange attraction surrounded the item, as though it was calling to whatever was near it. The price he paid for this new acquisition was steep, but it was worth it as he had seen what it could do.

Once again Ennoc fled back into his study, but in his haste he had forgotten to lock the door. Immediately he took out his journal and began sketching the relic he took out from the fabric in which it was covered. It was a dark red chalice, extremely decorated with spikes and fine carvings.

While on my trip to Fellglow, the caller presented me with an odd chalice, which they found on one of their vampiric captives. She desperately wanted me to take it away from the keep as it had already taken the lives of several of her students. As it turns out, the chalice wants people to drink from it, granting them great and terrible power at the cost of an addiction that could not be overcome and ultimately led to death.

When I asked her what I would want with it she presented me with a Bosmer body of one of their victims, she filled the chalice with the blood of the young wood elf and brought it to the corpse's lips. The result was astounding as the elf not only began moving, but actually was brought back to life, albeit as a vampire. He still had all his memories and I thought I finally found what I was searching for only to see the newly created vampire to begin writhing in agony and burst into flames after mere moments.

Still, I believe that with the knowledge I amassed from the Wydernfell library, I can corrupt this chalice to suit my needs. First though I must go through some books to find this relic's origin.​
 
The journey back to Labyrinthian had been uneventful, if not a little more personable than the initial venture. Gone was the stony silence of the trip to Wydernfell; though by nature Sylette and Ennoc were both solitary creatures, they at least shared a few words most nights. Even a few words was better than nothing, and nothing was all that had occurred when they had first set out.

So when Ennoc, upon arriving back at Lost Valkygg, sealed himself in his study like a rat in its burrow, Sylette had to admit that she was less than pleased. The booming power of otherwordly languages and the arcane displays of light that flashed intermittently through his door only intensified this displeasure. It was clear that the library at Wydernfell had granted Ennoc keys to locks he hadn't even known existed. All that knowledge, it was all thanks to her - and this is how he repaid her? With silence and seclusion? Sylette knew of a myriad of ways to enter the sealed room with her new abilities, and thought many times of doing so in order to set the Breton's priorities straight, but she quashed the urge. Doing so would complicate things unnecessarily; she had her claws in him now, well and truly, and such a display would only serve to create more work.

Besides, it wasn't like the vampire didn't have her own experiments to conduct. She discovered more and more of her new powers every night, and never hesitated to test them, roaming the hold of Hjaalmarch as if it were her own personal playground. She could run and strike faster, jump higher, sense life forms from those as puny as ants to those as great as the mammoths of Skyrim. She had thought herself a master of the illusory arts; now, she realised that she had been hardly more than blind and deaf. She could inflame a man's desire with the simplest of touches, and drain his essence a moment later; soon, she was sure she would have whole villages eating out of her hand.

Truly, she was becoming a Daughter of the Night to be feared by all.

One evening, having just returned from a pleasurable night of 'experimentation', Sylette heard the door to Ennoc's study swing closed; her hearing was becoming keener than ever. The man must have returned - and, judging by the absence of the dull thunk of wood sliding into place, he had forgotten to bar the door. Excellent. The vampire was growing somewhat bored, and thought Ennoc would be good source of entertainment for a change.

Quickly, she strode to his quarters, pushing open the door with no announcement. "So the wolf returns to his den," she remarked dryly and she sidestepped a teetering pile of manuscript. "Though when it looks like this, I don't blame you for leaving in the first place."

Any other remarks she had were cut short as she saw the chalice that Ennoc was scrutinizing. No, not saw - sensed. She could feel... something radiating from the cup, a magnetism that drew her like metal to a lodestone. She was at the necromancer's side in an instant, bending over his shoulder to scrutinize the rather grisly artefact.

"Where did you find this?"
 
Ennoc had already buried himself in the pages of the an old tome regarding lost and ancient relics when he heard the less than subtle jab from his less than subtle housemate. At first he thought she broke in his study, but a quick glance at the door revealed that he simply forgot to bar the door. "I know I invited you in here, but that doesn't mean you can enter my private chambers whenever you please."

Less than a second later she immediately showed an interest in Ennoc's new toy, which was remarkable since she had never showed interest in anything regarding his work. The necromancer placed his hand on the chalice and pushed a little further out of her reach. "I got it at Fellglow and they got it from a vampire."

It didn't take long for him to put two and two together and realise this must be a prized relic for vampires, he already had a hunch considering the effect it had on a corpse, but Sylette's unusual interest sealed the deal. "You don't happen to know what it is, do you?" With his eyes locked on the vampire, Ennoc kept turning over dusty pages in the book before him, passing along such artefacts as the mace of Molag Bal and Mehrunes' razor.
 
"Your door was unbarred." Sylette gave a non-committal shrug, the movement accentuating her slender shoulders, which were left bared by her off the shoulder dress. "When it comes to you, that's about as much of an invitation as I'll ever get. Besides, if I wasn't here, you wouldn't have any help working out the nature of this trinket, would you?"

She stared more closely at the chalice, though after Ennoc's less-than-subtle gesture she refrained from picking it up. If there was one thing she'd learned about the necromancer, it was that he was much more... malleable, when she tried not to antagonize him. She started frowning as she examined it, and the longer she looked, the more that frown deepened. "I can't recall anything I've ever heard about resembling such a thing. But..." The hesitation was clear in her voice as Sylette tried to find the words to describe the strange effect it was having on her.

"It calls to me. The fact that it was taken from a vampire... It only bolsters my feelings that it is intended for Children like myself. Did The Caller -" Sylette somehow managed to make the title an insult - "give any indication as to what it does?"
 
Ennoc couldn't help but grin at her undertone remark on the caller's title, it was true he also found it to be a ridiculous name and couldn't see why anyone would try to about their lives with it. "Hardly," Ennoc replied "Apparently it grants great power at the cost of an addiction that leads to death sooner rather than later. At least, for mortals. Also..."

The Breton grabbed the chalice and walked over to the stone slab he used for dar rituals, on it was an Orc bandit who had wandered into Labyrinthian a few days prior. Ennoc was planning on using him for another experiment, but it could wait. With a dagger he sliced the Orc's wrist and pushed out some blood into the chalice. Then he brought the relic to the lips of the corpse and poured in the cold blood. It wasn't long before the Orismer began to move violently before awakening, his eyes piercing red as with all vampires. "You damn, dirty mage! I'll break you in half!" He cried out as he grabbed Ennoc by the collar.

The Breton remained calm though as a few seconds later his assailant began writhing and screaming in agony before bursting into a bright blue ball of fire. "So uncivilised." he said as he dusted his robes from the ash.
 
Though her muscles twitched when the Orc grabbed Ennoc, Sylette refrained from moving. Surely, the man knew what he was doing. If he did not - well, it was foolish to play with such an artefact without knowing the consequences, and Sylette did not suffer fools. Sure enough, Ennoc proved to be in little danger, as events very quickly turned in a direction that Sylette would never have guessed.

"Remarkable," she breathed as she moved to the slab, tracing her fingers through the fine dust that was all that remained of the Orc. Already, she was both amazed and baffled by the cup. "Why would it grant such a gift, only to turn it against them mere moments later? I have seen weak vampires felled by the sun, but they do not burst into flame like this. The only way for a vampire to be immolated like that..." Her eyes narrowed as she recalled the scathing fire of the Holy One Ennoc had attacked her with the very first night she came to Labyrinthian. "You're more than familiar with the method."

She gestured towards the chalice that Ennoc still held. "May I?
 
"No, no I don't think so." Ennoc said as he turned away from Sylette, the chalice wrapped in the fabric of his robes. "Until I find out what it is, I'm not letting it out of my grasp." He placed the artefact back on his table among the dusty tomes and returned to his book. "Besides, if it granted great power to a mortal being, I wouldn't dare give it to someone like you."

Ennoc had sensed her power grow after Wydernfell, he couldn't place it, but his time with her in Valkygg had proven that. Worse still, her calm and reserved behaviour the past days worried him for it was out of character for someone as arrogant as her. He would never admit it, but Ennoc began growing fearful of the vampire he invited into his house, the last thing he needed was for her to gain even more strength.
 
Sylette pouted in displeasure at Ennoc's answer, her full lips becoming even fuller, but she managed to refrain from any extreme actions. Already, her time with Ennoc had taught her a very important lesson, a lesson which she had somehow failed to learn in all her previous four centuries of life: if one isn't able to kill or torture another for what one desires (her usual method of operation), one must display tact - even when angry. It was a lesson she was still adjusting to; she still found it strange to have someone who didn't simply obey all of her desires out of lust or fear.

That's not to say she didn't have any tricks up her sleeve, though.

"Oh, come now, Ennoc," she said, threading a tiny amount of Charm through her words - a new skill she had recently picked up. "How will it hurt you for me just to hold it? After all I've done, do you still not trust me?"

Weak as the Charm was, it would do little more than make Ennoc listen a little closer than he normally did, but Sylette dared not use more on the man. She hadn't finished testing the limits of the ability, and feared that a nudge any bigger would alert the necromancer to the magic at play.
 
Ennoc started to feel... strange, his mind began to become fuzzy and confused and it became hard to think straight. Her words became pursuasive and compelling despite the fact that she actaully didn't say a lot of compelling arguments. Ennoc's hand began moving over the edge of the chalice, circling the rim, dragging orc blood over the relic.

What harm could it do? a voice told him in the back of his mind, silently whispering sweet words of honey into his thoughts. All the while another voice screamed at him to decline the "offer" to reject the vampire and remove her from his study. It became hard for the necromancer to determine which voice was his. "No..." he whispered "maybe... I..." the words became difficult to find for the charmed Breton desperetly fighting for control of his own mind.

Logic, he thought, focus on logic. he began weighing options; the sensible against the compelling. He wanted the chalice for his dead love, Sylette wanted the chalice now. He could not afford to give her more power, but she wanted more power now. He grabbed the chalice and rose from his chair to face the nightspawn. Slowly and hesitant his arm rose to hand her the relic as his body screamed and raged against the vampire's seduction. In one last act of defiance, Ennoc's mind overcame the vampiric suggestion and he strongly clenched the artefact, the spikes digging deep into his flesh forcing blood to flow all over the relic and the ground. The pain of the entire ordeal forced Ennoc's mind back under his control and made him realise what was going on.

"Get out." He said through his clenched teeth, his head now clear to focus on nothing but rage and anger. "Out of my quarters and out of my sight."
 
When Ennoc rose and turned towards her, Sylette smiled eagerly. If she was able to sway his will with even such a paltry amount of her charm... The implications were considerable. She reached out for the chalice, but even as she was about to take it from his grasp, something Snapped. His hand tightened and was punctured by the brutal cup, and she felt the magic return to her in a violent whiplash effect at the same time as anger both cleared and hardened his mind.

"Get out. Out of my quarters and out of my sight."

For the briefest instant, a look of guilt flashed across Sylette's face, but it disappeared so quickly that it would be hard to believe it had even been there in the first place. Her expression quickly settled into a mask of cold anger, her eyes levelled flatly at Ennoc.

"You are too self-absorbed and secretive to even realise when somebody is trying to assist you," she said, her voice as cold and sharp as the ice that formed over the Northern Sea. "All that I've done, and you are still too foolish to recognize help for what it is."

She turned, stalking out of the room and around the corner at in inhuman speed. Immediately she headed towards her ever expanding quarters, seeking solace in the unquestioning loyalty of her thralls.
 
"Assist? Pfuh!" Ennoc spat onto the ground as the word left a bad taste in his mouth. Still, she was beginning to become a problem to the point she was bold enough to try and manipulate him with her dark illusionary magic. He saw now that inviting her to stay with him was an error of judgement at best.

Fear and paranoia began flooding over him as he began taking care of his wounded hand. She had already used him once and if she needed him again she would have been bold enough to ask if not demand it already. It appeared as though his usefulness to her was running out swiftly and now he had something she wanted very dearly obviously. Over the past weeks he had felt fear of her creeping in closer and closer but he had ignored it as best he could.

He had hoped to be able to control her with the knowledge and power he uncovered from his newly acquired books, but it was clear that her strength far outstretched his. At this point he probably couldn't even evict her with all his tricks and all his knowledge, he had walked willingly into the spider's web believing himself to be the bigger spider. So if she wasn't leaving, he had to.

Ennoc swiftly barred the door and summoned forth from the Oblivion planes a dremora servant, an actual butler originating from the dark realm of Dagon. It was a neat little trick he picked up from one of the tomes; a dark servant bound by magic to simply take care of his stuff. In truth tthe necromancer had simply learned how to do it as a joke, a simple conjuration to be learned amongst all the spells of terrifying power. He found it humorous at the time, now he found it useful.

"How can I assist you, master?" The dremora said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Take these books, all of them and keep them safe until I say so." Ennoc had already begun filling a knapsack with his journals and soul gems as he motioned over to his table and all his research material. A second later in the swirling portals of Oblivion, both the butler and the books were gone.

Once it was all gone, Ennoc rushed over to his sleeping quarters, and more specifically the coffin of his deceased lover, and conjured up the butler again. "Do you want the books back, sir?" He said jokingly.

"Take the coffin, keep it safe at all costs." His lever was all that was important to him, even though he feared for his life, the truth was that he merely worried that if he died she would never be revived.

"A butler's work is never done." Again the dremora left with his new task.

Now that everything was in secure hands, Ennoc fled for the exit clutching the chalice closely under his arm. He still had friends in Skyrim, people who owed him. Perhaps he would try and find sanctuary in Fellglow. No, she knew he was welcome there. Wulfrun in Mistwatch would harbor him for a few days. Maybe if he pretended to be an average traveler he could hide out near Fort Dawnguard, let the vampire hunters deal with the vampire. In the back of his mind, Ennoc felt he wouldn't be safe anywhere in Skyrim, so his mind went to Solstheim, but that would be worries for later. Right now he needed to get out.

As he exited the ruins he found it still dark out, this wasn't optimal, but he could not wait. The sun would come up in several hours, so he just needed to stay ahead of her for that long. Through his mind he commanded his remaining draugr to stand watch over her door and hinder her anyway possible to slow her down should she attempt to leave. They were no match, but all time would be precious.

With a flick of his hand Ennoc brought forth a skeletal horse, its eyes and hooves burning red as flames enveloped them. On its back was a unique saddle for mortals to ride it without pain or discomfort. The Breton mounted the horse and commanded it to ride swift, without muscles to strain or a body to tire, this creature could run faster than any living horse and it could do it almost endlessly as it would not be able to die of fatigue.

With it, Ennoc hurried East, toward Eastmarch and away from Valkygg and his Vampiric tormenter.
 
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So intent was she in her brooding, Sylette failed to overhear both Ennoc's conversation with his Dremora assistant and his hasty flight from his sanctuary. It was only when she eventually calmed and returned to Ennoc's door, mere hours before the dreaded sunrise, that she noticed a sound - or rather an absence of a sound. Ennoc's now-familiar heartbeat did not sound from behind those doors.

Sylette's eyes widened in surprise. Surely even one as headstrong as the necromancer wouldn't... Would he? With scarcely more than the press of a finger, the doors swung open to reveal Ennoc's study in its usual state, with two key exceptions: both the icy coffin that housed the corpse of that homely woman and the necromancer himself were absence.

"So, true to his nature, the rat flees when he feels cornered," she murmured as she sniffed at the air, picking up Ennoc's scent easily. Quickly, she traced his scent to the exit of the ruins, before discovering that his trail turned east. Several possible destinations popped into her head; but she quickly dismissed them. Skyrim was a large place. She would trail the scent, making up in speed at night what she lacked in ability to travel during the day.

Soon enough, she would spring a trap to ensnare Ennoc once and for all.
 
Ennoc rode until the sun stood at its highest point, his physical limitations shined through as the endless hours he rode took a hefty toll on his body. Tired and hungry, the Breton found himself resting up inside the abandoned prison of Eastmarch near For Amol. In the past he had taken up residence there as he spent some time with the necromancers of Fort Amol.

For him it was his own little playground with lots of toys to play with seeing as many restless spirits still resided in the cells which they owned while they were still alive. The necromancer took it upon himself to subjugate the ghosts, forever damning them to stay within the walls of the crumbling tower, forcing them to remain in prison even after death.

Even now, years after he first came there, the ghosts still recognised him as their master much to Ennoc's delight as now he had readily available guards to stand watch over him while he recovered his strength.

There wasn't much in the way of food available within the old building, but there were still several skeevers in some of the lower tunnels. While not exactly a rich, several course meal, nor one of Ennoc's favourite choices, the meat of the rodents was edible if cooked properly.

The tower didn't have much in the way of supplies or items Ennoc could use or desired, but one thing it did have was a surprising large amount of books in one of the upper rooms. Some were taken there by Ennoc himself during his initial visit, but most were already there. He suspected they were there to keep the prisoners occupied while the prison was still in use, but they held little in the way actual knowledge, instead preferring to focus on fiction.

For once the Breton decided to read one of the more pulp books instead of actual research in the hopes the stories would amuse him enough to get his mind off the situation he was in. From one of the upper shelves of the fallen bookcase, Ennoc took out a book containing a series of short stories, but the moment he opened it he regretted doing so.

The first story in the pages of tome was titled "Bloodspring of Lengeir's Feast", revolving around a fabled source of power for vampires. "Vampires," Ennoc mumbled to himself "bloody creatures seem to follow me around everywhere." Still though he continued reading about the ancient vampire clan from the Merethic era, feasting on the red spring and the power it gave alike. The story went on the claim the den was somewhere in Skyrim and that even now it still fed numerous vampires.

Ennoc dismissed it as utter nonsense and flung the book into the fire beneath his skeever, he had just about enough of vampires to last several lifetimes. After which he decided to have his meal and sleep while the sun was still up, if anything he wanted to be awake and alert during the night.
 
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