Farus and his troops moved through the tunnels of Skaal Burrow, whispers heard among them.

"How do we know we can trust these mortals?" one could be heard.

"That is what I am wondering, but if Farus and Isaac believe it the right thing to do, then what choice do we have?" another said.

"Just because Isaac is some sort of prophet, does not mean that we have to kiss his feet." the first voice replied.


"ENOUGH." the voice of Farus boomed throughout the tunnels, the vampiric commander stepping into view, his black hair now touching his shoulders. "How are we to earn the trust of the mortals, if we can not hold any trust for our own kind? Though I do agree, that Isaac's sudden arrival and then gaining such great power is not timed well, but either way, he may be the one thing keeping us in line."

Farus looked his troops over, a smirk coming to his lips, "Besides." He said, "If we truly did not care for Isaac, we would keep our small batch of troops to cooperate."

Many of the vampires went silent, turning to look at Farus.

"Did I ever say that I wanted him to be the one breathing down our necks? Have we of the Crimson Snow clan not fought our battles? Have we not earned our place as the gods of our kind? I say no more shall we be those that do the work of the gods, but we shall be those that make the work. Follow me, my people, and I assure you all shall be rewarded far greater then you will be under Isaac's hand."

And so, the roots of the Dark Conspirators formed.

-bump- ))

OOC: Just waiting for Jonas vault. I'm pretty sure he has something in store.

John had left with the refugees that morning, Azura only knows if they'll make it, thought Endreg. He began walking back to the citadel when a sharp pain in his side erupted. Endreg managed to stifle the pain and just quickly get to his chambers.

Endreg sat in his chair, up in the high chambers of the Fortress. He was looking in the mirror, looking into his eyes, the yellow eyes he'd been hiding. Endreg was clad only in his fur leggings, he got up off his chair and began pacing the room. "Darling, whats wrong? The vampires won't harm us, they helped us for Talos' sake." Endreg turned around, "Yes, that may be true, they saved us in our time of need. But we know not of these ones, all the clans are unpredictable and you know this Hekkate." Hekkate laid her head on a pillow, "Don't forget to take the elixir, Endreg."

Endreg walked over to a cabinet, and pulled down a small bottle full of a greenish-yellow liquid. He took a sips worth, and began coughing, he then hit the ground and began to gasp. Hekkate ran over, "Come here, get to the bed." Hekkate was a strong woman, she brought the pain-ridden Endreg over to the bed, and put a hot towel on his head. "Its over, and you have to keep it down, Gods forbid the vampires heard you."

-------

The next morning, Endreg woke up, feeling groggy and weak. He clasped on his sword, donned his armor and made his way into the courtyard. "Corporal, check on our friends in the caverns. I think they may be staying another night, and tell the leader, uhh... Farus, that I would like to speak with him in my chambers." ordered Endreg, "Aye sir!" and the Guard made his way down to the caverns.

Farus was busy sharpening his axe when the messenger arrived.

"What do want, mortal?" Farus said, not bothering to look up from his sharpening.

"Sir Endreg wishes your presence, sir."

Farus looked up, handing his axe to one of his two royal guards, who were dressed in black robes and held spears when not in battle.

"Take me to him." Farus said, the messenger nodding before beggining to walk to Endreg's chambers.

Ferintor was readying his troops when he saw a gargantuan group, around a hundred strong, come through the gates. He quickly rushed over to them and said, "There's no time! Werewolves have destroyed Kvatch, and are headed here now! There's a boat at the docks, board it and tell the captain that Ferintor said to leave! You could probably catch up with the High Elves. Hurry, hurry!" And with that the group shuffled off to the docks.

"Sir, we can hear howls," said a guard. Ferintor rushed over to the wall he was looking over and heard the faint sound of dogs. Then, over the horizon 7 miles away, a werewolf appeared. And another. And another. Soon scores were coming, and when it finally stopped a horde about 100 strong was slowly heading towards them. "By Talos! We stand no chance! Ferintor, we need to evacuate!"

"No."

"But sir, we stand no chance! We have to..."

"No. We made this haven, and we will die with it if need be. May the Nine help us. Stand your grounds! I assure you that if you die your spirit will be honored forever!"

A cheer arose from the walls as all the troops mustered to their positions, a hopeless cheer. May the Nine help them indeed, thought Ferintor.

*Edited*

Dante had fallen asleep in his chair still leaning back. As many people entered and left the Inn he awakened thirty minuts after. As he opened his eyes from a rather frightfull nightmare of werewolvs Circeling him, of course he killed them all, but he was left with their curse. He shook his head and got from his seat replacing his sword in its sheath and made his way back outside. He had over heard people aswell in his sleep. Those newcomers to this newly inhabited city were soldiers, allied with the vampires, But for what purposes after this nightmare would end, he did not know. Aslong as there was fighting to be had and gold to be made in the end he didn't want to care. He made his way back to the palace, then making his way to the sewers underneath. Some vampires were up and about, while others, Dante guessed, were sleeping still.

He took a few turns looking around for any sign that Isaac was down here, or where he would be. One room he passed held the Cultists He helped find from the old ruins, other rooms a vampire or two were feeding casually. Soon he came apon a room guraded by two men in black robes, swords sheathed but ready for quick execution. Dante Approached one, close enough to send a scimitar through it with no reaction from it. "Where is Isaac?" Dante asked loud enough for even Isaac to hear if he was in the chamber.

Erm, Sparda. Farus is in a place a good few miles away from the Imperial City. ))

Ferintor stood watch as his mere garrison of 20 waited as 100 werewolves ran towards them. Some were murmuring, others were whimpering in fear of the wolves. But, as Hircine's pets grew closer, a High Elf began to sing.

In the darkest of times
in the darkest of hours,
when all of the damned
weeds among flowers
pick up the sword and the bow and the quiver
and all you can do is cry and to shiver,
The Nine will have mercy on your lost soul
and lead it to its one and only goal,
as the body passes, into... the shadow.

The wolves were getting closer. A rain - a cold, damp rain - began to cascade from the heavens. Ferintor whispered among his comrades, "Draw your bows, ready an arrow," The soldiers - Imperials and High Elves alike - drew their bows and silently fitted an arrow. Ferintor raised his hand. The wolves grew very close now, closer, closer... "FIRE!!!". A barrage of arrows rained down on the wolves, killing seven. "Redraw... FIRE!!!" Another six fell. "Fire at will!"

A steady cascade rained down upon the Lycans, but now it was too late. They began to get ready to pounce. "Draw swords!" The command came almost too late. As swords were being drawn out of their sheaths, a score of wolves sprang upon the walls. Now the battle had begun.

((Oh, I miss read then, thought you guys were in the imperial city still my bad))

Edit: Alright fixed up the post

NP we are going to need a new thread soon. ))

((When a mod closes this one, I'll make a continuation))

So... are we going to wait around for the next thread that won't come because we aren't done yet or are we going to finish?))

Im taking a small break off this. We finally started up a very big rp on my channel, so I am building up ideas for that. ))

Ferintor pulled out his sword and jabbed the first werewolf to try and leap on him. It died and fell to the muddy ground beneath the wall. He turned to the side to see a comrade get mauled by a lycan to death. Ferintor brought his claymore down upon the were-wolf's back. The halfed werewolf crumpled. Ferintor turned to find a High Elf in duel with another. Ferintor pulled out his bow and shot the werewolf. It was not killed, but distracted enough for the High Elf to finish it off. Ferintor observed the whole wall. Everyone was engaged. He looked down to the ground in front of Anvil and saw another score of Hircine's pets readying to pounce. "Pull back! To the docks!There are to many! PULL BACK!", he yelled.

The soldiers began to back to the stairs and descend them, while keeping there foe engaged. When they finally reached the bottom, the next score had reached the walls. The soldiers had finished off their current enemies and ran for the docks. About five were killed.

They had just passed through the city-dock gates. "Shut the gate!" yelled Ferintor. Two High Elves slammed the doors shut and barred them, just as growls and scratches could be heard from the other side.

"Ferintor, the gate won't last out long. We are doomed if we stay in the city. There is a small boat over there, let's go over to it!"

"NO! If we give in now, those men from Skaal's Burrow will be killed on their journey back, and then the werewolves will swim for the boat. We cannot give in now. Their lives are more important than ours. We founded the new Anvil. We rose it from the dust and evil of Hircine. We will die with it too." said Ferintor. The soldiers had a look of melancholy as the gates finally burst open.

(bump)

((Might aswell lock the thread down now no ones posting, :shrug:))

Im not done yet mothertruckers!))

Isaac made his way to the Tiber Septim Hotel, being accompanied by two royal guards. He entered the inn, sitting himself down. "Terith." Isaac said to one of his guards, "Go upstairs, and fetch our guest."

The guard nodded, heading upstairs to get the mortals.

The soldiers shouted as the swarm of werewolves burst through the city gates. The horseshoe-He swung it down on a werewolf, who then fell over. Then, distinguished out from the rest of the werewolf crowd, came two gargantuan werewolves. One was a bit bigger than the other, and seemed to be the leader. "Go, Val'krash-ger! Slaughter them!" The smaller -but still huge- werewolf howled and charged at Ferintor.

He pulled it back and jabbed his shortsword forward, landing in the wolf's shoulder. The beast howled and, before Ferintor could retract the blade, snapped his jaws down of the blade and broke it where the steel met his pelt. Then it got ready to strike.Ferintor, surprised, only barely had enough time to grab his shield and hide behind it before the werewolf crashed down upon it, shattering it. Ferintor, knowing he was outmatched, clenched his aching wrist and ran back a few steps. The werewolf was about to pounce him before an Imperial lended out his help and struck the wolf across the wolf's belly. The beast turned his attention to the Imperial. Ferintor took the precious time he had and took out his bow and quiver. The only other weapon he had left was his dagger. He drew an arrow and aimed at the werewolf's head. The Imperial had only seconds left. Ferintor focused, aimed, and... fired! The arrow sailed through the air and landed in the werewolf's skull. The werewolf whimpered and fell to its knees. The Imperial then realized his chance and swund his sword as fast as he possibly could at the werewolf's neck. The beast's head rolled off it's perch and to the ground.

Ferintor turned his attention to the battle. The werewolves had lost many, their size was halved from their initoal attack. But only 7 -includuing himself- soldiers survived. He looked at the refugee ship. It was far out at sea. He looked at John and his few men. They were through the back exit and in the Gold Coast but... no. They weren't far enough. Their scent could be picked up. They needed more time... of which Ferintor would supply. He had one last line of defense... the lighthouse. And so our journey ends- in the same place where it began, thought Ferintor. He looked back at the battle. "Fall back! To the lighthouse! FALL BACK!" he yelled. The survivors couldn't though. They were locked in battle. One of the few High Elves understood this. He began building up magicka. Compiling, compiling... and he made the ultimate sacrifice. A pink line flew through all of the werewolves. Their legs locked in place. The High Elf -spent- crumpled over. The soldiers took their chance and ran back to the lighthouse with Ferintor. And so the last skirmish would begin.

Im just waiting for Jonas to have his guy talk to Farus. -shrug- I got some stuff planned with him. ))

Ferintor continued to shoot the werwolves. His men had climbed to the top of the stairwell and destroyed part of it so it was untraversable. While this made it impossible to escape in a timely manner, it also made it impossible for the werewolves to reach them while being shot at. As wolves climbed up the lighthouse's stone circular wall, the four survivors (two didn't make it to the top) continued to unleash their arrows upon the werewolves. The ground was littered with corpses.

Ferintor drew an arrow, aimed it at a werewolf's head, and took the lethal potshot. The werewolf yelped and fell to the bottom about a score of wolves had been killed. This very well could have been the end of the battle if they weren't so short on arrows and guards. They continued to fire until a High Elf shot a werewolf in the head with their last arrow. "Draw swords!" yelled Ferintor. "Wait for them to climb up, then we shall engage them!" Ferintor drew the sword he took from one of the dead soldiers.

The last ten werewolves continued their climb unattacked. When the first ones reached the top, they stopped. Finally five reached the top. They readied to throw themselves at the survivors... readied... readied... then they came, claws ready. Ferintor slashed at one pouncing at him. It took the wound and tried to swipe Ferintor. He ducked and kicked the werewolf. It fell off of the stairwell and into the mass graveard below. Ferintor stabbed a werewolf fighting the only other Imperial left in the back, catching the werewolf by surprise, and consequently killing it.

The werewolves were killed, just in time for the last five to attack. They pounced, catching a High Elf off guard, who then was knocked off the ledge and to the bottom, killing him. Ferintor seeked revenge and ran into the werewolf, watching his victim fall to the bottom. The wolf fell with his prey. Ferintor turned to find a werewolf right behind him. The wolf slashed Ferintor across the belly. Ferintor yelled in agony and dropped his sword below. The werewolf moved in for the kill, when it howled in pain. The tip of a sword came through its torso, and fell to the ground, revealing an Imperial behind him. "Consider us even," he said.

The three realized it too late. A white-furred werewolf, much bigger than all of the others they had fought, was at the top. He had climbed the distance while the survivors fought with the blade. It was the leader. The monster leaped upon the the High Elf -still engaged with the last normal werewolf- and threw them both off the edge. Then he turned his attention to Ferintor, kneeling and bleeding on the other side. The leader leapt on him, but did not injure him. The Imperial attempted to kill the leader, But it simply kicked him back to the edge, to kill him after done with Ferintor.

Ferintor groped around his suit, feeling for his dagger. "You fool," grumbled the werewolf, "You thought you could win. You stood against a horde of wolves that outnumbered you five to one. Well, here you lay, defeated. Evil can win, scum. Evil won the battle." Ferintor found the dagger. "Evil may indeed have won the battle. But good always wins the war!" Ferintor unsheathed his dagger, and, faster than he thought possible, stabbed the wolf in a neck artery. Blood spurted everywhere. The werewolf grunted and tried to get off Ferintor. But Ferintor again stabbed the wolf, this time in the exposed chest. More blood was lost, and with a stabbed heart, the werewolf could live no more. It died and fell down... right onto Ferintor. He could feel organs being pressed and bones breaking under the enormous weight. He was about to die.

The Imperial finally got up and rushed over to Ferintor. "Ferintor! You can make it! Get up! Here, I'll help you..."

"No. It's too late. A werewolf slashed me across the stomach anyways. I'm infected. Tell me something, whatever your name is, have those men from Skaal's Burrow gotten across the horizon?" The Imperial looked through the window at the Gold Plains.

"I can see them no more. They escaped. By the way, my name is Dantrus. Now let's get this thing off of you..."

"Don't waste your energy Dantrus. I'm dying. I want you to do something: survive. Escape. Anvil is saved, thanks to us. High Elves will come soon and reinforce the city because no one would be alive here. Don't worry about that. You must leave, inform Tamriel of what has transpired here. The last of the survivors to come here mentioned that the Imperial City stood proud once more. But has been renamed to something... I can't remember now. But it's safe there. Go there, Dantrus, and survive and thrive. That's all I ask. Goodbye." And before Dantrus could do anything, Ferintor let go of life and died.

John had been on the boat for a couple weeks now. Finally he had arrived on the beutifull summerset isles. He stayed at an iin for a couple weeks.

Every night he had a dream. Were hircine would speak to him, and he would see the Isles in flames with wolves going through it.

John couldn't stand it, he felt like a coward. While his friends stayed and fought, John stayed behind in some paradise drinking and partying with other survivors. But he was not willing to ever go back to Cyrodil.

As Farus entered the main chamber of the keep, Endreg sat, fully dressed in his armor. "So, vampire, what is this news about the Imperial City? And who is your general, clearly someone must have sent you?" Endreg sat, taking a long drink from a mug of mead, waiting for the vampire to answer.

((Sorry, I've been gone for a long time, I have a ton of RP's on my hands. I'm getting addicted. But lets pick this'n up shall we? I may need to make an new thread soon.))

Later that day in the afternoon. John John sat on a barstool in an iin drinking some mead staring into nothing.

''Here you go, sir,'' said a child's vioce after the young elf boy handed john a letter to him, ''this message is for you... John.''

John took the letter, ''Uhh... thank you,'' he mumbled.

John read the letter.....

'' Dear John,


We are sorry to bother you but we may need your help. Some of our spies posing as Hircine wore shippers have witnessed people transforming into wolves earlier today. Make your over the the palace tomorrow morning. It's only a matter of time before these wolves attack. Please we need your help,


the Summerset Isles Palace,'' said the letter.

Oh. S***!

Farus gave off a smirk to Endreg, letting his fangs show lightly.

"The Imperial City, has you may call it, was overrun by a large amount of Werewolves. Many of the vampire clans dwelled in or near it, but when they came we had to retreat to a abandoned fort. A area where all vampires in Cyrodil and hopefully Skyrim go to when the time is dire. We were being driven mad, feeding off rationed cattle. It was three nights ago, when he came."

Farus shook his head, "Some call him, a prophet. Others know him as The Reincarnation of the Conspirator. Either way, his name is Isaac, and it was his cry you heard piercing the night, and it was he who lit the signal fire. Though we vampires may not have a good history of getting along with you mortals, in these times of need... we will make..." Farus bit his lip lightly, "Exceptions."


***

A few miles away from the Imperial City, a horses hoof's echoed through, a wolf-masked rider ontop, observing the surroundings. Behind him, were many robed and armored cultist, along with armored soldiers. The masked rider raised a hand, it made of gray fur.

"Halt.." he said, his voice deep as he turned his head toward the Imperial City. "Night Warriors. Hunters, we make for there direction." the group began riding, toward the direction of the Imperial City.