Elder scrolls: Dead and damned

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She made good progress in those final few hours of night, but Sylette still felt that Ennoc was a long ways off when the eastern horizon began to lighten. As black bled into the indigo of predawn, it became time to accept the fact that there was no hope of catching the fleeing necromancer this first night. Sylette hissed to herself in frustration. As she saw the heat signatures of all the animals around her close enough to hear the sound flee in the opposite direction, her mood lightened somewhat; Ennoc may have been fleeing from her, but she was one of the favoured Children. To be fair, what didn't flee from her?

As she began to feel the tingling sensation that pre-empts the pain of sunlight striking vampiric flesh, Sylette turned her thoughts towards shelter for the day. Of course, she could have continued on through the sun, but she found little point in doing so: her powers would be drastically diminished, to the point where she would be travelling at near human speed - the very thought made her shudder - and the trek through the light of day would exhaust her greatly, to the point where even if she did find Ennoc, she would would be far too weakened to bring him back. Little good that would do, hunting the Breton down only to die.

It didn't take long to find a cave. Actually, calling it a cave was putting it nicely. It was little more than a narrow fissure in the rock face, but Sylette's eyes showed her that it was uninhabited, and stretched back far enough that the sun's cursed rays would not strike her at any point in the day. It was hardly her luxurious quarters in Labyrinthian, but she had rested in far worse dwellings than this. At least there were no fetid corpses this time.

As the sun crested the horizon, Sylette dropped into a meditative pose on the cold, dark stone of the cave. Shutting her eyes, she allowed her brain slowly to drift into slumber, although the image of pouncing on Ennoc from the shadows continued to bounce around her head.

When the sun set, the hunt would resume.
 
Just at the final moments of the day, Ennoc awoke, his fire still held some minor ember as the all the wood around them had turned to charcoal. The fact that he was still alive proved that he was wise to rest during the day. This was one of the few advantages he had over Sylette, unlike her he wasn't restricted to simply one part of the day. Still he had to keep the distance up, perhaps if he stayed ahead of her long enough she would eventually give up.

As the Breton left the tower he commanded the ghosts to attack anyone on sight, not that they wouldn't, but he gave the order anyway seeing as it somewhat set his mind at ease. Should his vampiric hunter chase him down, she would be bogged down in spectres should she enter, giving him more time to get away.

The skeletal horse was conjured up yet again and swiftly kicked into action as it galloped at high speed across the mountain road. The darkness of the night made it difficult for him to navigate the right path, but his horse was wise enough to stick to manmade roads.

For hours the necromancer rode until at last he reached the fortress of Mistwatch at the break of dawn. The bandits residing there weren't exactly running an inn service, but the moment Ennoc mentioned Wulfrun he was allowed in. Despite being a heavily fortified position with a great many men guarding it, Ennoc knew he would hardly be safe here from what followed him.

When entering the secondary tower, he was met with a familiar face; Wulfrun. This Nord truly was a unique specimen, he fancied himself a battlemage and it was true he knew quite a bit about destruction magic, but he had almost no magicka reserves to speak of. The result was that he channeled his spells through a staff, using the power of souls from soul gems to replace his lack in magicka. Ennoc was quite proud of that achievement considering he was the one to suggest it to the Nord.

"Ennoc, you necromantic bastard." He bellowed out as he grabbed the much smaller Breton by the shoulders and lifted him up as though it was nothing. "What brings you all the way out here? I haven't seen you since we left Winterhold together."

"I need a place to rest for the day, I'll be gone before nightfall."

"This isn't exactly the Candlehearth inn, old friend, I'm not sure if Fjola will agree with that. We're kind of having some trouble here." About halfway in the tower were some cells filled with coughing and sickly bandits desperately begging for "more". "They've been like this since they came back from a raiding party in the Rift. We sent them to pillage a caravan that was supposedly loaded and they come back empty-handed and with an addiction to boot." From a pouch on his belt, Wulfrun took out a red vial. The mere sight of it caused everyone in the cells to stir and beg for it. "Redwater skooma they call it, highly addictive and more poison than skooma."

Addicition, even that seemed to follow him, Ennoc thought as he clutched the chalice under his arm. He took the vial from Wulfrun and gave it a smell, besides the distinct skooma scent that was obvious, Ennoc also smelled copper... or blood. On a whim the Breton took out the vampiric artefact and filled it with the skooma before bringing it over to the lips of one of the addicts in one of the cells.

Desperetly and in extreme haste, the addict chugged down on the liquid as though his life depended on it. where once he was a sickly bandit, in mere moments he became not only healthy, but strong. Not only that, but he remained it for quite some time, far longer than when one drank from the chalice with anything else.

This was a lead Ennoc could not ignore. Promising skooma in exchange for the location of the drug den, the prisoners quickly spilled their guts about where they got their fix. The Rift, Near boulderfall cave. He would find it, but first he needed to rest up for several hours. Ennoc found a place to regain his strength in one of the cells, after all, a bed roll is a bed roll.
 
As the last of the sun's rays disappeared, Sylette's eyes slowly opened, seeming to glow in the pitch black of the cave. In a moment she was under the brilliant illumination of the stars, her nose sniffing delicately at the air. It was faint, but her heightened senses still managed to detect Ennoc's familiar scent, as well as the intangible presence of death and power that constantly adorned him like a cloak. The trail had not run dry; at her speed, it would only grow stronger and stronger as the night progressed.

She pulled at the air once more, picking up another scent: that of a lone man camped out in the forest nearby. Unconsciously, her lips drew back, revealing that glistened in the light of the twin moons. Soon, she would resume her hunt. But first things first...

Several hours later, as she bounded along the soft earth of The Pale, Sylette decided that there was no way Ennoc was travelling on his own two feet. The Breton might be a fearsome mage, but as a physical specimen he was hardly in peak condition. No, at his slow pace she would have caught him perhaps even that first night. Thinking on it, she realized it made sense; the man would not be foolish enough to flee her without knowing he could put some distance between them. Whether it was a horse or some means of magic she was not aware of, Sylette was not sure, but there seemed to be another scent mingling with Ennoc's, one that stank of earth and decay.

Still, she reflected as the sky began to soften - she had plenty of time for thoughts as she ran mile after mile - she was certainly making ground. Having accomplished the remarkable feat of travelling from Hjaalmarch to Eastmarch in little more than one night's travel, she could definitely notice Ennoc's scent strengthening. How far away he was, she wasn't sure, but soon enough, she would have him exactly where she wanted him.

For now, it was time to rest once again, her prey having managed to escape her for another night.
 
Ennoc was rudely awoken by the female bandit chief Fjola as Wulfrun stood behind her shrugging his shoulders. He knew he couldn't stay there for long, but he had hoped it was at least a bit longer for the sun hadn't even set. Perhaps he had to look at it all from the bright side, at least now he could take advantage of the day a bit longer.

As he packed his stuff, his old friend Wulfrun detailed the proper way to Redwater den again, making sure that the necromancer wouldn't get lost in the wilderness of the Rift. And with that the Breton set off southward in the hopes of uncovering more secrets of the bloodstone chalice.

This time however he didn't even ride half as long as the previous days, his journey coming to an end barely an hour after sunset. Now he actually had to remain in place for close to the entire night. In his thoughts he hoped above hope that this would not be some empty pursuit for he could not spare the time.

At the burned down remnants of some hermit's house he was greeted by two fur-clad guards, Ennoc had spent enough time around vampires and their thralls to realise what was in control of them. The only thing this proved was that his hunch bore more fruit than might have been suspected at first.

One of the two pointed him to a hatch that led to a basement where another thrall awaited him. This was a big guy, a Nord in race and body standing much taller than Ennoc, though Wulfrun was bigger. The Nord demanded the necromancer's weapons, as the Breton couldn't, and wouldn't, give him him his mind, the guard had to contend with Ennoc's dragon priest dagger which he actually only used for rituals rather than combat.

The room further down the den could be smelled before it could be seen; copper, stronger and fouler than anything the necromancer had smelled before. Coughing and the sound of vomiting overruled what little conversation was had between the thralls that worked in the drug den. One of said thralls was a female Bosmer that acted as a dealer from inside her own little cage.

"Welcome, welcome! I don't believe we've seen you here before, have we? You can buy from me, then pick a booth and enjoy."

Ennoc had little time or interest in pleasantries so he just cut right to the chase. "I'm not here to indulge disgusting habits, I'm here for the spring and I'm only going to ask nicely once."

The friendly demeanour of the wood elf quickly changed once threatened and she called the thralls to her aid. In a moment's notice Ennoc was surrounded by enthralled bandits, hunters and even an obvious vampire. "Usually this goes down without the need for violence, but don't think we're afraid of a little blood."

Ennoc scanned those that surrounded him and he was less than impressed. After Wydernfell he'd seen the worst Tamriel had to offer, this was not even close. In his hand the Breton created a sphere directly connected to the soul cairn, with a smile he made a cutting motion with his hand straight downward, turning the sphere into an opening. From the dark portal stormed a force far greater than he had ever summoned forth from that Oblivion plane; two keepers, four wrathmen, five bonemen and five mistmen. He had to thank the Wydernfell clan for that. In the past he could neither summon that many nor that fast before.

In a matter of seconds the weaklings surrounding him were slaughtered, a mere half hour later the entire den was cleared of the vampiric infestation, giving Ennoc a straight line to the spring. He had to admit, it was quite a sight; the heavily flowing blood pouring up from the bowels of Skyrim. He could see why this was such a desired place for vampires.
 
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A cloaked figure stood motionless in front of the charred remains of a hut.

Only the hem of Sylette's cloak moved, whispering around her ankles every time the breeze strengthened. At last, she had him. Ennoc's scent had grown stronger and stronger over the course of the night, and she knew now that he was close - very close. And yet something gave her pause, stopped her from walking into the shack and confronting her prey. There was another smell, one that had been growing stronger over the course of the night. One that she had wondered at the source of, for it to be so strong. The answer stood in front of her: the very hut that Ennoc had ended his mad flight at, and the scent emanated from the area of the hut in almost palpable waves.

The metallic, coppery scent of spilt blood.

What could possibly be the source of such a strong smell? Sylette did not know, but she could guess; Ennoc had fled with that strange chalice that sung to her, and had travelled across Skyrim to reach a place that reeked of vampiric sustenance. The arts of the Children were at play here, there was no doubt. And there was only one way to find out exactly what.

She moved quickly through the hut and its subterranean caverns, noting with detachment her dead brethren and their thralls, many torn asunder by powers that did not belong on Nirn; Ennoc's signature was clear. She was drawn towards both scents, each calling as powerfully as the other: one to her hunter's mentality, and one to more primal desires. Both reached a climax at once: before her stood a familiar figure, one which drew an involuntary snarl from her throat, the sound low and menacing.

And before him... It was a sight she could hardly believe. The properties of such a liquid, its origin... It was nothing she had ever seen or heard of before, and it pulled at her seductively, blurring her memories of why she had even come here in the first place. All she had to do was drink, to flit past Ennoc and...

Ennoc. Her eyes snapped back to the necromancer, and her eyes narrowed as she took in his haggard form.

"Like a deer from a wolf, you have fled me. The hunt is over now, my little deer, and there is nowhere to run. So what shall you do now?"
 
Ennoc sat slumped down on the floor against a coffin when he heard Sylette's voice pierce the darkness like a dagger of ice, and yet he didn't respond. He merely sat there, lifeless and silent, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes fixed upon his hands leaning upon his knees in a gaze of disbelief.

In the time before the vampire's arrival, Ennoc had spent a great deal of time experimenting with the spring and the chalice. While the vampiric bodies of the previous residents of the spring were unsuitable for experimentation, due to their daedric nature, they were however quite useful in providing assistance in terms of manual labor which sped up the entire process. Normally Ennoc likes to take his time with his rituals and tests, but with Sylette on his heels he had to hurry things along.

Many of the corpses of the thralls were brought back using the ancient relic combined with the blood from the spring and all showed great promise; while each and every one became a vampire, they all kept their memories, personalities and free will. Above all, they remained "alive" for much longer than with the chalice alone. For several hours Ennoc waited and experimented and the initial corpse he brought back remained.

Convinced this was what he was searching for all these years, Ennoc called upon his Dremora butler to bring back his beloved, but the moment he brought the chalice to her lips and made her drink from the spring, he heard a horrifying scream. Not wanting to believe it, he turned to see the first one to be revived burst into flames and cry out in agony as blue flames enveloped him and turned him to nothing but ash and dust.

The hours that followed were both the happiest and the saddest in his life as he was reunited with the one he lost so long ago but had to deal with the knowledge that it would only last for mere hours. Ennoc did his best to keep her within the world of the living, but in his years of finding knowledge to bring back the dead, he skipped over on how to keep the living from dying.

Eventually he was forced to say goodbye as time ran out; he had unlocked secrets of ancients passed, communed with the ideal masters and lived to tell the tale, walked Coldharbour and returned, but none of those things was as hard as having to say goodbye yet again. He hugged her so tightly as though if he did it hard enough she wouldn't go, but when the screams and flames erupted and his hands and arms were burned, he realised there was nothing he could do.

And now there he sat, his arms scorched and his hands filled with ash. His entire goal in life: gone, all his work: meaningless, all the power he accumulated... worthless. Empty and broken, that's all there was left to describe him... empty and broken.
 
At first, she thought it might have been a trick. Some foolish attempt to lull her into relaxation, to surprise her with an attack while her guard was lowered. Perhaps one of his minions was hiding in the shadows, waiting for her to move closer before leaping at her unprotected back. If there was any way for him to take her down, that would be his only chance.

But no. Sylette could pick up the truth, and the truth was that Ennoc was a broken man. Her eyes scoured the room, putting the pieces of the puzzle together: scattered piles of ash spaced at random intervals about the cave floor, the chalice that had fallen and rolled unheeded, the smell of burning flesh coming from Ennoc... And the all-too-familiar coffin that rested at his side. It all fell together in an instant, and a whirlwind of emotions exploded within her.

"Oh, Ennoc," she breathed, stepping towards the man without a worry. He couldn't hurt her now, no matter how he tried. She did not get too close, respecting his space; she still hadn't forgotten that time during one of her first nights at Labyrinthian, the look of disgust on his face. Still a few steps away, she continued in the same soft voice, trying to coax some life out of the man's glassy eyed stare. "You might find it hard to believe, but I know how you're feeling. You need to realise that you haven't just lost her. You lost her a long time ago, and you know that. But what you've done, you were able to see her, no? Talk to her? Then you've already been luckier than anyone else in this world who has lost a loved one; you had the chance to talk once again to somebody you had lost. There must be some solace in that."
 
With a look of disbelief, anger and confusion, Ennoc rose his head to gaze upon Sylette. He could not comprehend her motives for attempting to sound concerned or empathic, the Breton knew all too well that mortal life meant little to the eternal vampires and the emotions of others even less so.

"Why are you here?" He asked, his tone filled with anger. "Have you come to mock me? To gloat over your skills in tracking halfway across Skyrim?" His head fell back down, his visage returning to the floor glancing at the bloodstone chalice. "No, you're here for this, aren't you?" He picked up the relic and held it before her. "Power is all you crave, don't try to deny it, I know that look in your eyes, I've seen it enough in my own." He threw the goblet toward the redwater spring, it's metalic clanking coming to an end as it rolled to the edge of the blood-like liquid. "Take it, all of it; the chalice, the spring. Enjoy your endless supply of power, may it serve you better than it did me."

And with that he got back up and moved toward the exit. He could not stay in the redwater den for long anymore, he could not bear the memories he now had there.
 
For what felt like an age, Sylette stood rooted to the floor. Ennoc had already left the cavern, and with him any final obstacle between her and whatever potent power lay within the chalice; if she could discover the extents of its effects and harness that power, she could become a monster, to be known and feared throughout the dark hours of all of Tamriel - all of Nirn, perhaps. Who knew just what power the Vampiric Artifact could unleash. And yet...

With Ennoc, she could perhaps achieve something even greater. She knew that if she stayed now, it would not be such a simple matter to track him. Even leaving Valkygg mere hours after him had pushed her newfound abilities to their limits, and who knew how long she would have to remain down here? And she knew for certain that Ennoc would not be found again if that scent was lost. She had not revealed even the slightest of hints to him about what she had Seen, what had drawn to her to him in the first place, but Sylette knew the possibilities that winked out of existence if they were separated even if Ennoc did not.

The two choices waged within the Imperial as she stood there, still as stone. And then the decision was made, a deep inhalation of breath brought her body back into motion, and she turned to toward the exit, moving as silently as the shadows around her as she exited the cavern. The goblet lay right beside the lip of the pool, untouched.

"Ennoc." She had caught him just outside the hut, striding onto the road beside the cabin. Though the night was full, the stars shining bright in the sky, her sensitive eyes could pick out the faintest edge of light lapping the horizon. Dawn was not more than an hour away.

"I have something to confess." There had been a change in her voice, as if there was a layer of imperiousness and derision that had been peeled off. "I did not come here for the chalice." She paused.

"I came for you."
 
"I came for you." The words carved deep into his psyche, he did not know what to make of it; he did what was asked with the Wydernfell, he relinquished the power of the Bloodstone chalice and Redwater spring, other than that...
"Why?" He asked as he gazed upon his burned hands, "Why, Sylette? What could you possibly want with me? I have nothing left to give and my goal in life is... is naught but ashes."
 
"Because, Ennoc, you are much more than you think yourself to be. Why do you think I came to you in the first place? You burn, Ennoc, in a way that I have never seen or even heard of before, a way that I did not think possible until I first Saw you. That fire speaks of the greatness in you, the things that you could achieve, if you only have someone to fan that flame."

She looked at him evenly, but just as her tone had seemed to change, so too had her gaze. She was no longer looking down upon him, but at him like an equal. "So it is not true that you have nothing to give. In fact, you have the opportunity to give just as much as one such as Tiber Septim himself."
 
"Tiber Septim?" The idea seemed unbelievable even when he spoke it himself "You want me to be as influential as the god Talos?" Of what lunacy did she speak? It was true that Ennoc had thought of all the changes he could make should he rule, but who hadn't? To actually pursue such a dream, nay, to surpass it and conquer Tamriel under one banner for the second time? Such a thing would result in... power, power without end to the point he would enter in the realm of gods... and leave behind mortal feelings.

"Perhaps..." He clenched his fists and forced healing magic through his veins healing the burns before they became scars "Perhaps that is what I require now..." He looked back up at Sylette, his eyes burning with a fiery passion he had not felt since the day he decided to resurrect his fallen love. "We'll need an army."
 
The fire burning in Ennoc's eyes brought out an inadvertent smile from Sylette - little more than a soft upturning of the lips, it looked far more natural and... human than her usual baring of teeth.

"If that is what you wish for, then I will do all in my power to see it through." A vision flashed behind her eyes of the Imperial City in flames, the usurpers vanquished, and her and Ennoc taking their rightful places in the throne room. When her eyes opened again, they burned with a passion to match his.

"If it is an army you need, an army you shall have, an army of both the mortal and the Undead who will make any legion tremble." She held out a hand, one slender, pale arm extending out from the dark cloak that enveloped her. "Are you with me?"
 
Ennoc could see her fire burning bright enough to match his own, she most likely had her own reasons for wanting this, but it mattered little to him. He would walk the same footsteps as Mannimarco and Talos in achieving apotheosis and rival the Aedra... or the Daedra.
He gazed upon the outstretched hand of Sylette and was reminded of their first meeting in which she offered the same courtesy, yet unlike then this time he accepted. He grabbed her icy-cold hand and looked her dead in the eyes "With all my power."
 
CHAPTER FOUR: A SHADOW FALLS ON SKYRIM
​
"And the forces?"

"Continuing to grow steadily, mistress. The thralls' numbers are swelling faster than our own, but we have been taking far more care in the selection of new Children than we are with their slaves. The rate of other vampires joining us has not changed: sparse, but steady."

This last point was perhaps not a bad thing. Each new vampiric denizen of New Bromjunaar that was not blooded by Sylette herself had to be thoroughly vetted, another job which she did not yet trust her captains with.

"Very good, Ocantis. You may return to your duties."

"Yes, mistress."

The young vampire turned back to his small squad of fledglings, resuming his lesson on swordplay. Throughout the cold, echoing hall, painted in flickering colours by the torches that burned brightly on the walls, other groups were doing the same: the more seasoned members of her brood teaching the newest recruits the art of killing. The ring of metal upon metal echoed of the the stone walls as blade clashed against blade, and the muted thunk of arrows hitting a practise target came as a counterpoint at regular intervals.

Sylette was content to simply watch for a while, a small, satisfied smile on her face. After a time, she turned, exiting the training hall and into the winding hallways beyond. In just the three months that had passed since the incident at Redwater Den, a new city had been born beneath the ground. As her and Ennoc had begun to craft their plan and build their forces, word had spread through the dark underchannels of Skyrim, and necromancers and vampires both had started to flock to their flag, along with all the industry this brought.

Passing a wide opening covered with rich velvet curtains, Sylette's sharp ears picked up high pitched giggles and moans of satisfaction. The Feeding Chambers had been a welcome addition: along with their thralls, several of the vampires who had travelled to New Bromjunaar had brought along Feeders, mortals who had become addicted to the venom of a vampire's bite. Sylette had made sure that their numbers grew to match the host of vampires within the ancient city, and now a whole complex of rooms - both large and intimate - had been furnished for the Feeders, who were more than happy to provide their blood for the Children... along with other services.

She knew that only a few halls away, close to the market that had grown around an increasing number of necromancers and thralls, a similar set of chambers were decorated in a similar way to cater the needs of these mortals, and that only a few halls further from that was a series of ventilated rooms that were boiling hot at all times of the night and day: the newly created forge.

Only three months, and the ancient, dust-ridden halls of Bromjunaar were coming back to life.

She rounded a corner and, walking past several skeletons standing guard, came face to face with the familiar door to Ennoc's study. Things between the necromancer and Sylette had been far more... amicable since their conversation three months ago. They were very much on the same page now, and their work progressed all the faster for it.

Out of habit, she rapped lightly on the slightly ajar doors even as she pushed them open, making her normally silent footsteps heavier as to not startle the man. As usual, he was seated at his cluttered desk, leaning over some ancient text or another.

"Ennoc," she said in greeting as she took a seat beside the man. She stretched, somewhat scandalously considering her low cut gown, pressing her hands behind her and leaning back in an exaggerated gesture before continuing. "Our troops continue to grow in proficiency and number, both my Children and your Undead. We have successfully taken several forts and other strategic points around the area. It's time to attack somewhere... Bigger." She leaned closer to Ennoc, desire making her eyes shine. "It's time to see what we can do with our new power."
 
Hail all - brave city Bromjunaar
Forever these walls shall stand
May enemies see her majesty
May all quake to behold her
​
It had been a long time since those words rung true, yet who better to revive a dead city than necromancers and vampires? In the months that passed they did far more than simply gather forces like some blind mercenary band. No, they uncovered the secrets Labyrinthian held and rebuilt its power and glory.

Draugr and skeletons might be good for brainless manual labor, but work that requires thought was something else entirely. Here's where the vampires' thralls came in, many were carpenters and stonemasons before they were slaves and their knowledge was invaluable in restoring the walls and gates. Unlike the thralls of necromancers, the thralls of vampires weren't brainless, after all... Just mindless.

Ennoc gazed from the Eastern highpoint, right outside the entrance to Lost Valkygg, at the city that he and Sylette had built; the main halls of Labyrinthian, sealed off for decades, became the home of the vampires. Endless halls and space for both them and their thralls. Besides, many of the vampires were vain beings and giving them the biggest space with high importance stroked their ego. That said, the mages and necromancers first uncovered many secrets including the ancient mask of the dragon priest Morokei and the ritual for bringing back a mighty and terrifying beast.

The necromancers were content to reside in the remodelled area of Shallidor's maze, the powerful magic held there resonated with their own affinity and the mere thought of residing and defiling a place originally built for the arch-mages of the college was exciting for a lot. Not that they needed as much room as the vampires anyway, the thralls they made didn't need beds or places to reside nor did they indulge themselves in extreme luxuries and decadence. Power through knowledge was their pursuit and Ennoc gave them more of both then they could ever imagine though it was only the tip of what he knew.

Ennoc's connections with necromancer cults across Skyrim such as the ones from Fort Amol, Fellglow keep and fort Snowhawk allowed him to call upon new recruits rather swiftly. Few places in Skyrim were as universally avoided as Labyrinthian and few people in Tamriel held knowledge like Ennoc did, both attracted necromancers like moths to a flame.

Right after Ennoc took one final gaze at the lines of undead archers on the walls, the legions of draugr and thralls marching through the city and at the city itself, he headed back into Valkygg. Most of the city was open to all, but Valkygg remained off limits to none but himself and Sylette. In the months that passed they had gotten... closer, but still he found his mind wandering from time to time to his former love. Sylette was as assertive as ever and while the Breton was more accepting he could tell they both knew something was holding him back.

He entered his private study and sat behind his desk; an old dusty tome laid before him at the page he left off: "soven drun zek vozahlaas" or "The secrets to reanimating immortals" in Tamrielic. It was a book written by an ancient dragon priest during the time the dragons left Skyrim and the dragon cult was busy burying their bones in mounds across Skyrim. The entire book was written in the dragon tongue and was remarkably well preserved for a book thousands of years old. Not surprising considering each page was reinforced with a powerful magical spell. The pages in his hands must've been of great importance to the cult.

Just as he was about to begin translating there was a knock on the door and in came Sylette. As usual she did her best to remind Ennoc just what more she could offer him before telling him her desire for some more dangerous action. Here there two personalities differed greatly; Sylette was someone of action, she wanted to show everyone her power and make the world tremble in despair, Ennoc on the other hand preferred patience, to weigh all options, to see every threat and to think up every consequence. By the time Ennoc was ready for battle, Sylette would already have attacked and either won or lost ten times.

Still, she wasn't the only one growing impatient, both vampire and necromancer were beginning to voice their boredom or complaints accordingly. "Something bigger?" He could not help but give a little chuckle, she was being coy about it, but considering they had already captured both forts and smaller settlements such as Stonehills the only thing bigger was an actual capital of a hold.

The necromancer couldn't deny he had though about it, but he was hesitant to declare all out war against Skyrim and the empire before they were ready. So far they were able to keep their actions relatively quiet, not drawing to much attention to themselves. Still, it had to happen sooner or later. "Very well, we shall attack Morthal once the sun sets." he began scribbling two notes and called in two undead servants, he handed them each one of the papers and commanded them to give them to two of the more higher ranking members within their undead society: vampire master Movarth, an old resident of Hjaalmarch and someone who knows Morthal inside and out and Lu'ah Al Skaven, a powerful necromancer in her own right who was most eager to join in a quest to burn the empire to the ground.

Once they ran off with the messages Ennoc turned to Sylette yet again "It will take several hours before the sun sets and our forces are ready, perhaps you should get some rest. Creating history is tiresome after all."​
 
"Oh Ennoc," she said, beaming beatifically at the man, "you always know how to make a girl happy."

Despite her playful tone, Sylette was surprised that Ennoc had agreed so easily. She had come in expecting a challenge, had thought up many arguments the necromancer would use to try and prove that they weren't yet ready, and had thought of counterarguments for each of these. Now, she didn't even get to use them - it would have felt like she was missing out on something, if not for the fact that her wish had been granted. Still, the fact that she had even thought up arguments before entering the room showed that Ennoc's slow, sometimes drearily meticulous habits had worn off on her; so too, clearly, had her more brash nature on Ennoc if he was agreeing so readily.

The smile turned into more of a mischievous grin as she considered Ennoc's statement about getting some rest.

"I have lived for over four centuries, Ennoc, and fought more battles than I can remember. And one thing I have never done hours before an assault is 'get some rest'. At least," she winked, "not by myself."

Not wanting to let the implication hang over the pair - why Ennoc still held back from her, she was not sure, but she did not want to force things and jeopardise the harmony of sorts they had reached - Sylette quickly continued in the same light tone. "Besides, we'll have more than our share of beds to rest in once Morthal is ours, no?"
 
Bold, as always, Sylette suggested something she has been lusting after more and more the past few months. Ennoc expected it to be because of the fact that she hasn't been able to get her hands on it thus far. Still he can't say he wasn't interested in the least, worse still if she kept up her aggressive and bold acts, he wasn't sure how long he could resist her charm.

At this point other things were on his mind, more pressing matters. "I'm not planning on staying in Morthal long, stronger still I'm not allowing a lot of our force to remain there besides some of your vampires, we must not draw attention to ourselves. Enthral the locals, make them your willing servants and make them go about their daily lives. There's no reason in letting the world know what happened there. They will serve us, their income will come to us and to the unwise or inattentive everything will seem... normal. Then when the time is right and Skyrim and the Empire decides to root us out, we'll show them just how far our tendrils have grown."

He gazed at his bed, his hand brushing over the icy cold surface and he began chuckling. "Still, I wonder what it'll be like sleeping in the comfort of the great hall."
 
"Even a vampire gets sick of old ruins eventually," Sylette remarked dryly as her eyes assessed the room. "I too am eager to enjoy the comforts that await us. It has been far too difficult to arrange the transportation of a decent mattress here."

Though she joked, Sylette was frowning inwardly. Another advance rebuffed. She had never persisted after a man - and a mortal one, at that - for such a length of time. She'd never had to. Perhaps this was part of the reason why she wouldn't stop, the fact that she had never had a challenge quite like this in either life or Unlife.

It was more than that, though. The glow around Ennoc that only her eyes could See was growing. When she had first discovered in her dreams, she had seen him with a aura emanating from him that made even her dream self tremble. When she had first come to him in reality, this aura had been faint, barely perceptible. Now, as his power grew along with his influence, it had begun to grow.

"Enthralling an entire town the size of Morthal..." Sylette said musingly; while her thoughts had been turned inward, her face had simply appeared as if it was considering Ennoc's proposal. "I can't recall any vampire having ever enthralled so many before simply leaving them and moving on." She paused thoughtfully for a moment.

"I could do it, and I would be more confident in upholding such an enthralment from a distance more than I would in leaving some of our younger followers. Such a number is no simple feat for a small number of us. But I will divide the task between some of our more experienced Children. If things proceed the way we wish," she said, her voice lifting slightly in excitement, "we could very well take more than Morthal before the true battle is waged."
 
"No," Ennoc responded bluntly "I need Morthal as a testing ground. I need to see how cohesive we can fight. Only the survivors need to be enthralled. This is Morthal after all, a few missing soldiers or civilians is hardly something someone of importance blinks an eye at." What Ennoc said came down to the truth, even in a land as bleak as Skyrim, Hjaalmarch held little to no importance in the grand scheme of things.

"Still, you have the entire plan by the right end. When we have enough vampires we can infiltrate the bigger capitals and slowly turn them from the inside out. Why take effort when patience will do."

Her remark about the less than cosy accommodations did not go unnoticed. While the Breton had always thought that the increasing amount of decadence she brought into Valkygg made her comfortable there and the fact that he made it off limits to their underlings ensured her privacy, he didn't realise she was desperate for something a little more... modern, for the lack of a better term. "Do not worry, once Morthal, and subsequently Hjaalmarch, is under our control we can build you a longhouse here in Bromjunaar if that is what you desire. All the comforts you can wish for."

It wasn't really Ennoc's style to go out of his way to ensure the comforts of someone else, but he needed her happy in order for her to stay by his side and hold dominion over the lesser vampires. Or perhaps, deep down, he wanted her by his side anyway. Questions for later.

Ennoc walked over to the side of his table and from a crate he took out two goblets and a bottle of Firebrand wine, perhaps it wasn't what Sylette was used to, but it was by far the most expensive wine he could get in Skyrim. Despite everything, Ennoc can enjoy some luxuries as well. "For now," he said as he poured them both a decent amount of the wine "comforts such as these must suffice." One of the goblets he kept for himself, the other he handed to Sylette. He had hoped to spend the next few hours devising strategies and battle plans, but perhaps he too needed some relaxation every now and then.
 
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