This is an actual in-game event, rather than an imagined story. It's also the last story featuring Hattie, who is unfortunately no longer with us.

*

It was very, very late when I walked into the guard camp at riverwood, and I was exhausted. The final battle in Bleak Falls Barrow had nearly finished me, and I had been tempted to just sleep in the forest when I left. The thought of the warm fire, hot food and soft bedroll I could borrow in the guard camp had convinced me to walk into the village though.

One of the guards greeted me as I walked slowly into the firelight, saying "I fear the night, because vampires and werewolves don't."

With those damned closed helms the guards wear, you never know just who you're talking to so I just acknowledged his statement with a nod as I plopped down on a handy bedroll. I had intended to eat, but I was so tired that I just stretched out on the bedding and was shortly sound asleep.

Did you ever awaken suddenly, with the feeling that something was wrong, but you had no idea what it could be? that was the way I woke up a few hours later. It seemed to me that I had heard loud banging noises and yelling, but all was silent as I stood up. It must have been fairly late, as the sun was already high in the morning sky, and I thought perhaps I had heard Alvor banging on some poor, helpless piece of armor with his hammer.

I moved over to the arched gateway into the village, and examined what I could see of the street carefully. What I saw was disturbing... or rather what I DIDN'T see. The street was deserted and totally silent. Sven's mother, nearly a fixture on the dilapidated porch was nowhere in sight, and there was no sign of Alvor in the smithy either. I summoned my magical armor, then readied a spell as I moved slowly up the deserted street.

Just inside the gate, I looked to my left, and though the mill was noisily running, there was no Hod at the controls, no Gerdur overseeing the operation, no Faendal chopping wood. The hair on the back of my neck was standing tall, so I summoned a ghostly skeleton warrior, and continued further up the street. Reaching the smithy, I moved up onto the sheltered boardwalk that doubled as Alvor's porch and stopped in a crouch seeking any sign of life or movement... but there was nothing at all.

I thought perhaps everyone had gone into the Sleeping Giant for a twon meeting or something, so I headed that way. I had no sure knowledge of anything wrong, but I kept to the shadows as my ghastly companion and I moved along. Shortly, I could see something was laying by the steps to the Sleeping Giant, and in a moment I determined that it was Stubbs, a dog belonging to one of the village children. A moment later, I could tell that he was dead.

Still with no sign of friend or foe, my summoned skeletal warrior's time expired, so I summoned another of his brothers... this time, I placed him much farther up the street. On materializing he drew his battleaxe, and turned slowly as though seeking an enemy he knew was there, but did not see.

Around the far corner of the Inn, two figures suddenly came charging at my undead champion at a run. The hand of one was filled with ruby light... A vampire! In the bright light of morning... How could that be? The other was apparently a thrall in fur armor, and I quickly ended that one's life with firebolts as my warrior fought with the vampire.

Once the thrall was dead, in one hand I held a spell to summon a new champion, while with the other I cast firebolts at the cursed undead monster. The Mater Vampire finished of my skeletal warrior, and turned to face me with a glare. "Never should have come here!" he cried, and for an instant, I wondered if that admonishment was directed towards me or a lament for himself.

I placed a new skeletal warrior directly in front of me, and backed away across the small wooden bridge that spanned an arm of the river beside Alvor's home. I hoped that the narrow bridge would restrict the vampire and any other thralls he had in the area to a purely frontal charge. My new champion fell quickly, and in an instant I felt my life being drained away to feed the vampire's hunger. I changed my spell to send lightning bolts at him, hoping to bring him to a quick end, and was rewarded by hearing him cry out and turn to run. Another blast of two bolts with the last of my manna flung his lifeless body past the Riverwood Trader and face down on the street near Gerdur's dead cow and its pen.

As I stepped off of the bridge, and back onto the street, I saw a very unusual sight. A dead chicken, lay crumpled not three feet from where I stood, and as I collected the makings of a chicken dinner, I could have kissed that vampire. Chicken can be hard to come by, after all.

Dead cows and chickens.. Gods! What was this guy, some kind of chupacabra?

The townfolk came out onto the street shortly, and it seemed all was well after all. Aside from three dead Whiterun guards, of course. Nobody else in town had been hurt, and the discovery of that was a happy moment for the townspeople.

I felt a little weak, and I thought it was perhaps due to blood loss to the vampire as I headed to the Sleeping giant for an ale and a chair. I had barely entered the Inn when the town drunk looked at me closely and said "You look worse than I feel!" Huh! What a strange and unkind thing to say...

***

NOTE: I use the mods "When Vampires Attack/When Dragons Attack" if some of this seems a bit odd to you...