It did change Solidor, I agree. The first two chapters were def inspired by "Interview with a Vampire" - no doubt. But you developed the story after that into your own creation. To me it became more interesting when you broke away from IWAV and made the story your own. We all take inspiration where we find it, (obviously, since all these stories are fanfics) - it is what we do beyond that inspiration that makes the story great, and you have done an Awesome job with this. Your talent is easily seen in the chapters following those first two. I'll say it again, Awesome Write !!!

IM WAITING

I enjoyed it Some great stuff here, I love the sytle of writing. Hope you do some more!

thanks for this ^_^

Sorry for not posting the new chapter! I've had my internet cut off recently, I just got it back so I'll post up when I finish my sheets for CI

that's great news

Two chapters today, I'll upload the second one later Enjoy? I dont like this one, but its relevant.

Chapter Eighteen: Terra Firma.





3E433, The day of the Emperors death.


The Imperial City; a hive of activity was one way of describing it, people from all races and walks of life meandered about the streets of the market district, perusing the wares of hopeful looking street vendors.

A woman stood in the shadows of an alley between a tavern and an armour smith, idly leaning against the cold white stone, staring into thin air as she waited in at the usual rendezvous point for her lover, who was late, again.

Though she tried to remain unnoticed, it was an impossible feat. Every woman that walked by had in tow husbands that gawked and ogled the waiting lady. Though she would never admit it, she was shockingly beautiful. Her skin pale white and porcelain, it seemed to glow and shine no matter what light she stood in, her lips bright rouge and eternally plumped. From beneath two heavy long lashed lids shone blue eyes that failed to hide the depth of an ocean behind their soothing surface.

Sick of waiting and being stared at by the passing men, she turned to leave through the backstreets in hope of some solitude from the hectic streets of the Imperial city, but when she turned she bumped into a man walking towards her through the same alley.

Annoyed, she looked up at the man, ready to berate him, but every negative impulse evaporated when their eyes met and they pulled each other into a loving embrace.

“I thought you would never show up!” She said into his chest, slapping his arm in a half hearted but mandatory show of annoyance at his tardiness.

“I’d tear the stars from the skies before missing an opportunity to be with you my love.” He whispered back as he took her hand and led her from their alley, into the sea of would be consumers and vendors of the market district. She adored being with this man for many reasons, but one of the biggest advantages of their relationships was the way he was with her in public. Her past lovers had been intimidated by the way other men looked at her; they soon became jealous and controlling. But Marcus was different, he showed her off to the world. But not as a trophy, he showed her off as evidence of his dumb luck to have such a woman on his arm. And when she was with him, although he showed her off, other men didn’t stare – they seemed to avert their gaze out of respect or fear of the formidable looking Nord and his ebony clad arm.

At first the ebony arm had intimidated her, scared her, but when she saw the flesh beneath it she understood why he wore it and appreciated its value to him. It had been over a month since they had been together, he had been in Bruma on business for longer than usual, and now they were together again she could sense something was heavily playing on his mind, sadness rippled behind his fatigued eyes.

“Marcus, what is it, what’s happened?” She asked gently, squeezing his hand to get his attention as they moved through the crowd, she huffed in frustration as a hooded man bumped into her; and felt something ruffle against the day sack on her shoulder but paid no mind to it as Marcus slowly opened and closed his mouth, looking for words.

“It’s my son…” Marcus choked. His voice breaking uncharacteristically as he spoke. “He’s dead.”

She opened her mouth as her eyes burned, but before she could say anything a hand roughly spun her around. An Imperial Guard stared back at her, Marcus disappeared from her side, she craned her head around looking through the crowd for him but he was no where to be seen.

“Your under arrest, if you do not comply you will be taken by force!” The Imperial Guard said harshly, his voice a little too loud for comfort, which drew a lot of unwanted attention from passers by.

“On what grounds?” She spat incredulously, still searching through the crowds for Marcus.

“Theft.” The Guard said, pulling her day sack from her shoulder, ignoring her protests, opening it up to reveal a change of clothes, a small purse of coins and a richly decorated sapphire pendant which was both out of her pay grade and unfamiliar to her. Before she could protest the arrest and assure the guard that she had never seen the necklace before, she was dragged away through the crowd.

Marcus was still no where to be seen.




* * *

3E249, The Imperial City

Almerions eyes snapped open as the sky opened up beneath him, clouds parting to accept his falling body. His eyes streamed as the wind whipped against his face, the falling sensation in his stomach was nothing compared to the weight of the responsibility now bearing its load on his shoulders.

He plummeted towards the ground below, his clothes flapping around him noisily; the sensation was identical to that of being pulled into the vortex at Kvatch, only this time he was heading to the ground rather than being svcked from it.

But without his interference, the descent slowed and something guided him downward. He could now see the city below him, buildings began to climb from the ground and the land around the city was starting to turn into more than a blurred mass of darkness.

His feet hit the ground silently and unnoticed, he closed his eyes as he walked and willed words of thanks to Akatosh for his return to Nirn.

Without hesitation, he moved through the city at large – heading to his rendezvous with the mongrel. Unfortunately, their business would be cut short prematurely. Not that he had a strong interest in working with him from the beginning.

Many years ago, you traveled through the countryside north of Bravil with three others; you found a shrine on your journey. When you touched the stone you saw a vision, this was my first attempt to make contact with you. The gods words rang through Almerions mind as his feet guided him blindly through the city, his eyes stared ahead but didn’t really see what was up ahead. While my power is bottlenecked in this pocket plane, I am still able to communicate through consecrated ground in whatever way possible. Unfortunately – I was unable to convey the warning to you, I soon saw that your arrival at Kvatch was inevitable, and instead of trying to divert you – I instead prepared to intercept you before Gabrielle sent you to the Merethic era. He moved through the dark cobbled streets of the city, nodding at the guards politely as they roved through the same streets sleepily. Days later you faced Gabrielle, do you remember what he told you when you questioned him?

He told me she was in North point, he said it was the answer to a question which has not yet been asked. Almerion mouthed his own words as the conversation looped over through his mind.

I placed these words in his mind when he was unconscious in the chapel; he has no memory of saying them, a blank spot in his mind. I cannot tell you her name or describe her in any way, but I assure you that when you two meet, you will know who she is.

What significance does she have?

She will ensure events progress the way they should, without her I will not face Mehrunes Dagon, Mundus will not be destroyed and myself and Gabrielle will not be stranded in time. She is instrumental in progressing the events the way they are meant to happen.

Would it not make more sense to leave her be? If she is the catalyst the sets the chain of events in motion, shouldn’t she be taken out of the equation? Without her, you will not be trapped and Gabrielle would not be a threat.

Alas, if it were so easy. We cannot ignore the timeline that has already occurred, the events up until the point of my exile are already written, if they did not happen, you would not have been sent to me in Gabrielle’s place and you would not be sent back to stop him, which also means you would not be in a position to stop her taking up the mantle of destiny.

How confusing… I have to ask, why are we ensuring that everything happens as it is supposed to if it will end in your entrapment and the demise of Mundus?

In time you will see it how I see it, these events have to happen as they have a hundred times before. In every other time line Gabrielle had already been dismissed and sent back to the Merethic era, he never effected the events that lead to his younger self being sent back. But now, he is present, and will try as much as possible to disrupt the timeline. However, you are also present now, and must ensure his every attempt fails.

So what will we accomplish by stopping Gabrielle, wont all these events culminate in the same dragon break that doomed Nirn? Almerion asked finally.

No, the timeline does not exist past Gabrielles attack, everything from that point onwards is unwritten, it is how you would say, fair game?

I see, so tell me, what must I do with the woman.

Bring her to the Imperial City, and ensure she is arrested on the 26th of Last Seed, 3E433

* * *



Present Day


“Akatosh?” The Breton Scholar said again, visibly found the story hard to swallow. They were both walking through the snow clogged streets, the Inn had grown busier by the hour and now it was a chore to be heard over the drunks.

“Indeed, Akatosh.” Almerion said shortly, as if being pulled from reality to converse with a god was an every day occurrence. “I still do no worship the Nine, but I do not ignore their existence, and I am thankful for their guiding hands in such dark times.”

“I see… So what happened when you arrived back in the Imperial city?” The Breton asked as the pair passed a group of arguing Nords. Neither of them noticed that one of the Nords broke off from the group and began following them, his face obscured by a large fur line hood.

“I met with the Mongrel and gave him the map I found, he insisted I follow through with the original deal and track down the artifact he was searching for. But since I had no more use for the information he offered, I declined.”

“What was he searching for?” the scholar asked, making a meal of tying the clasp on his cloak, so much so that he had time to drop back behind Almerion. Before he moved to catch up with the vampire, he dropped his bag of scrolls and notes on Almerions life to the floor where it was quickly snatched up by the following Nord, who melted away into the shadows behind them.

“The staff of chaos, I dare say you have heard of it.”

“So he was..?”

“Jagar Tharn? Yes.” Almerion cut over the Breton with a smile.

“Did you ever meet him again?” he asked, catching up with Almerion, slipping a little on the snow as he worked his stubby little legs.

“No, I consciously avoided his gaze. I made an enemy of him when I refused to work for him that day, and his affairs where no concern of mine. I remained off the grid for forty years, before surfacing again in Morrowind.”

“Why Morrowind?”

“In the elapsing years of my battle with Gabrielle in Kvatch, and my resurface in Morrowind, I had been accepted into the folds of a loving family. It was family business that drove me to Morrowind. But, I would soon find more than I bargained for in the alien province.”

* * *

Come on people, wake up! Two chapters in a row now. Lets hope somebody gives me some feedback on this strange turn of events before I post up chapter 20!

Enjoy!:

Chapter Nineteen: Estranged Sons.

3E393, Morrowind

Yes my child, we know your destiny, we feel you searching for us, we crave your love.

The first words the night mother had ever said to him glided through his mind like a soothing breeze as he urged his horse onwards through the intimidating landscape of southern Morrowind. His entry to the Brotherhood was unique, most initiates had to murder to gain entry to the family, and most initiates were approached by a speaker in their sleep to be recruited. But Almerion? He had found their sanctuary in Cheydinhal by chance. It had been built under the burnt out old manor he and Gabrielle had once occupied, he sought out refuge and found himself face to face with a band of murderers, assassins and artists of coercion.

He explained to them his predicament, and then the night mother spoke to him again, she assured him he had found home. The others felt her presence around him and their suspicious stares changed to welcoming embraces, he had never known such unwavering compassion before. He truly had found a home, a family.

For over one hundred and forty years he served the brotherhood, his burden and responsibility of facing Gabrielle and guiding the time line back into place forever present in the back of his mind like a dull head ache. It was the brotherhood who sent him to Morrowind to seek out a new initiate.

He had been tracking the potential new brother for days now, his goal nearly in his grasp. The landscape evolved at an astonishing rate, from jagged and imposing rock formations to plains of ice cold desert, then closer to Black Marsh, vegetation erupted.

The plant life and inhabitants of the region did little to mask the scent of his prey, and after some time Almerion found him self staring into a long black tunnel at the foot of a lush green mountain. He pulled a torch from his saddle and it lit by itself as he held it aloft, the deathly blue fires washed out every warm detail, it felt almost like the temperature of the vampires surroundings dropped significantly.

But things were about to get a lot colder he soon discovered as he moved into the narrow opening in the wall. The floor was strewn with all manner of dead decaying creatures, as well as the maggots and other insects that fed on them. The stench was poisonous, it stung Almerions sensitive sense of smell and he screwed up his face in a meager attempt to combat it. Slowly the passage began to broaden, though not enough for his ample frame to fit comfortable within its confines, but he moved swiftly onwards regardless.

Then something moved in the shadows ahead, a snarling noise echoed throughout the passage, making the opening sound deceptively larger than it was. Almerion wasn’t perturbed by this however, and moved onwards until a filth covered body was awash with the blue light of his torch.

A hollow shallow skinned face snapped around, snarling, red eyes glinted fiercely refusing to be dampened in colour by the blue flames, long white fangs hung out from under a pair of withered dry lips; long lank greasy hair framed the fearsome face.

“Calm friend, I’m not here to hurt you.” Almerion said slowly, holding his hands out with palms up to the creature, he never used weapons any more – he was capable of tearing a man limb from limb with little more than martial combat, and it looked better if he ever got stopped by authorities. Weapons tended to raise eyebrows.

The creature backed away, but visibly let its guard down and assumed a less aggressive stance; it was looking at Almerion with mild curiosity now, trying to work out his words. He’d been in the wild for so long it had probably been centuries since he’d said a word, and Almerion couldn’t be certain that before his humanity was sapped away that he even used the same language.

“I’m a friend; I’m here to help you.” Almerion said, chancing a step closer to the creature. He was happy when it didn’t recoil any further into the passage.

“H-elp?” It spoke, choking and heaving with the effort of stringing coherent sounds together.

“I know what you’re going through, I have been a monster myself many times, but now I have a family who accept me and love me. You can too.” He said, moving closer still, his left hand still held out in a display of peace, the other rummaging under a thick fur cloak searching for something.

“No!” The creature shouted. yellow plaque stained saliva flew from his mouth onto the floor. “No help, no monster! No!”

“You can trust me friend, I am here to help.” Almerion added a pleading tone to his voice, the creature had to think they were on equal terms, a volatile mind was a dangerous one after all. For the first time Almerion could pick out details beneath the crusted filth covered clothes, they looked as if they were once fine expensive garments. It seemed he had some noble routes, unless those routes went as far back as slaughtering a noble and stealing his clothes for warmth.

“You don’t know.” It spluttered. Boney spindle fingered hands’ clawing at his chest; his speech was starting to improve with repeated use. “Don’t know what it’s like. No family will accept me.”

“I know more than you think.” Almerion said, drawing his lips back to reveal his elongated incisors. “You don’t have to share blood to be brothers.” The vampire dropped all pretense of defensiveness and stared at Almerions teeth, eyes wide.

“What’s your name friend?” Almerion said as he handed the vampire a pig skin filled with fresh human blood or as fresh as possible without being straight from the vein.

“Vincente.” It said, accepting the pigskin with a cautious sniff before biting into the side as if he was feeding from the vein, neglecting the corked drinking cap at the top, some habit’s died hard. “Vincente Valtieri.”


* * *




They traveled by night for three days, feeding on whoever they could find. On the second night they enjoyed a banquet at the expense of a merchant’s caravan. Almerion had been pleased to discover that Vincente was considerably intelligent and sophisticated after feeding regularly, his withered features had begun to fill out and he was looking more human every day.

They had used the last of Almerions money to buy passage to Bravil on a cargo ship, while not equipped to carry passengers its captain was more than willing to accept desperate refugees escaping poverty, criminals and fleeing slaves, at a price of course.

Almerion sat bellow deck, Vincente beside him covered by Almerions own fur cloak, his face obscured by the shadows cast by the hood pulled over his eyes. They had agreed that while he was recovering from his stint with nature, Vincente was still in no condition to pass as human and every measure should be taken to hide him from prying eyes.

Across from Almerion sat a young Imperial woman with mousey brown hair and deeply tanned skin, green eyes stared out from a cluster of freckles spanning the bridge of her nose, there was something very homely about her, it made Almerion feel a strange desire to protect her. He imagined it was due to the fact that she was strikingly similar to his lost love Emily from the thieves’ guild; she could have been a doppelganger were it not for the shape of her ears and the darker skin tone.

She held a baby to her chest with one arm, Almerion couldn’t see any visible flesh due to the amount of blankets wrapped around the small body, but a small hand would occasionally reach out before retreating, accompanied by a few gargling sounds. Clutched just as closely to her chest with the other hand was a thick leather bound book, it looked as if this was her only other possession.

“How old?” Almerion asked gently, the woman looked up startled that some one was talking to her. She had probably traveled a long way without being noticed, she was just another Imperial woman who met with bad luck in the province of Morrowind.

“He’s eight months, almost.” She said quietly, smiling down into the bundle of blankets with the loving expression only a mother could wear.

“I always wanted a son, but my wife died in her pregnancy and the child was lost.” Almerion spoke quietly, almost to himself. He wasn’t lamenting the loss; he had long since given up on mourning. It was more shock that he could even recall details from so long ago.

“I’m sorry to hear that, I lost my husband before he got to see his son, I decided to name him for his father.” She replied, adjusting a little to pull the child in closer without dropping the book clutched to her chest.

“What happened to him, if you don’t mind me asking?” Almerion questioned gently, offering a sympathetic expression to the woman. Sometimes kindness to strangers reminded him of the compassion that made him human, it was something his brothers and sisters couldn’t possibly understand. But as a vampire, he had to do every thing possible to cling onto his humanity.

“He was a Breton diplomat from Wayrest, we were on a tour of Morrowind visiting different settlements. One night we were attacked by some escaped slaves. I do not blame them, they were desperate for freedom – they thought we were slavers. When they realized the mistake they had made they escorted me as far as possible to the nearest town and handed themselves in to the authorities. They were good people, and paid the price for their desperation.” She said, hey eyes were beginning to fill with emotion. She tried to be as understanding as possible about the situation, fooling her self that it would make the loss more bearable perhaps. “This diary is my husbands; it’s all I have left of him.”

“What’s his na-” Almerion started, trying to change the subject, but was interrupted as the boat suddenly juddered and crashed, cargo and crates slid about around them as water began to gush in through a breach in the hull that Almerion couldn’t spot. Vincente was already on his feet, Almerion looked around for the Imperial woman but she was no were to be seen.

Almerion sprang to his feet and the two vampires waded to the stairs leading to the top deck, all he could see was the receding light of sundown accompanied by a weak silt like drizzle of rain, bodies ran too and fro as the boat lurched and the sound of creaking wood soon changed to that of splintering and snapping wood.

They moved out into the open, people where sliding down the tilting water sodden deck towards a tumultuous vengeful ocean, others scrambled about trying to untie the few rowboats on the side of the ship. Almerion acted almost instinctively, diving forwards to catch the hand of a young Altmer who was sliding down toward the ocean – his face a picture of serenity, like the Imperial woman he had a large book clutched to his chest. But this was clearly an item of extreme value, its white cover ordained with rich gold and all manner of Daedric symbols.

Vincente arrived at Almerions side, and between the two vampires the Altmer was dragged back up the deck. They scrambled across the slanted floor, slipping and sliding toward the only remaining life boat. The others had crashed and splintered against the jagged rocks that had also sealed the cargo ships fate, bodies floated amongst the wreckage, buffeted into the rocks by the force of the water. Almerion tried his hardest to spot the woman amongst the bodies, but the only ones that were visibly female were also Khajiit and variations of Mer, but no Imperials.

Almerion helped Vincente push the Altmer up into the life boat. The vampire did a head count, three men and two women, no baby – no mother.

“Where is the woman with the child?” Almerion shouted over the sound of crashing water and wood. Vincente clambered into the boat and offered Almerion his hand.

“What woman?” One of the men called, he was the only one in the group who was visibly a sailor. “Hurry and get in, we’re about to cast off before we’re dragged down any further!”

“You will wait!” Almerion shouted as he span toward the stairs, sliding forward a few feet before colliding with a half remaining hand rail to the cargo hold.

“We’re leaving without you!” Another man shouted his voice barely audible.

“Vincente, if they cast off without me I give you permission to kill them as slowly and horrifically as you please!” Almerion shouted to the vampire, he shot one last glance their way before tackling the soaked stairway, Vincente’s hood had fallen back, and in the failing light he looked even more fearsome than when Almerion had first found him, his willingness to follow orders were almost as admirable as his desire to murder, he would do well in the brotherhood.

The water below deck was up to Almerions midriff now and rising quickly. Crates of unknown exports floated just bellow the surface, occasionally colliding with Almerions water weary legs with the sudden jolts of the slowly sinking vessel.

He called out for the woman, but could barely hear his own voice over the rushing water; how she would hear it he did not know. Slowly he made his way back to where he and Vicente had sat, across from the woman. It made more sense to begin searching from that point – she had a child and the boat was flooding, she couldn’t have gone far.

Then he heard it, the sound of a child crying, its tiny little lungs belting out enough noise to be heard, however faintly. Almerion followed the sound, the water was getting noticeably deeper as he went, it was now up to his lower rib cage.

He spotted the woman and his heart plummeted faster than any sinking vessel. Water was just up to her shoulder, she stood pinned against the wall, baby and book held above her lulling head.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” Almerion shouted. Rushing over as fast as the water would permit him. He looked around, a support beam had snapped and fell on her, pinning her to the wall with its bulk. He placed a hand on it and followed it through the water; he would have looked himself if there was enough light to see beneath the water.

She looked up into his eyes with a weak smile as his hands reached the end of the beam; it had penetrated her stomach and come out of her lower back, there was no saving the woman. Her face was wet with more than sea water. Almerion could feel the sting of tears in his own eyes. It wasn’t the fact that she was dying that upset him; it was the acceptance in her eyes that he could never understand.

“He’s named for his father.” She said, her eyes glazed over staring off into the distance. “He was a Breton diplomat…” she added, her conversation with Almerion not ten minutes ago repeating behind her dimming eyes.

The vampire took the baby gently from her hands, reaching for the diary as the light faded from her eyes, tears cascaded down his face in earnest now, and his heart began to beat a tattoo in his throat as he waded his way back to the top of the deck.

It seemed to take a life time to reach and clamber into the sole remaining lifeboat, everything moved in slow motion around him, he was only aware of the small heart beating in the tiny little body held to his chest.

Before he knew it, they were a mile away, watching the remains of the cargo ship sink into the abyss below. The others talked around him but Almerion could barely fathom the words they said. It was only when Vincente spoke that he realized they were speaking to him.

“What’s his name?” Vincente asked, his voice full of child like curiosity, this was probably the first time he had seen a child since becoming a vampire.

Almerion didn’t know the answer; it took him a while to realize he was still holding onto the fathers’ diary. He arranged it as best he could and opened it up; barely visible in the moonlight he could make out five words on the inner cover.

The diary of Lucien Lachance


* * *

I love how you have tied this into the Dark Brotherhood. Keep writing, this is spectacularly good!

Thankyou!

I kinda had to tie him into the Dark Brotherhood at some point, since he origionally started out as an RP character who was a member of the Darkbrotherhood quite alot of his significant staples of his character come from that period in his life, so if anybody follow Almerion in any RP's or have ever RPed with Almerion, they're about to get some answers to alot of questions

i'm back from spain !!

i loved both chapters !! especially how you tie it in with the dark brotherhood characters.

maybe something small, you seem to make a lot of time jumps to the past and the present day. so it would be easier if you say what time it is, present time, past. because during chapter 18 it is the day of the emperors murder and then you return to the past, but you told us. and then chapter 19 no information about the time untill almost at the end where he finds vincente and lucien and then we can tell what period it is. but still.

sorry if what i said isn't clear enough.

Sorry, I thought I did?

in the chapter 18, yes. but then chapter 19 you didn't. but it wasn't that big of a problem when vincente and lucien appeared. but you didn't actually said what year or period it was or i must be so blind to read over it more than twice :-p

but still it was a great read and i am curious in how it will progress!!

Ah strange, I remember working out what date it would be aswell. Its in the word document, I must have missed highlighting it when i copied over! I'll edit it in asap

no problem.

but i do love how you jump back and forth in time!!

just a question: it is stated that vicente valtieri became a vampire three hundred years ago. he hunted alone for nearly hundred years then the brotherhood found him thus Almerion finding him. and he also becomes the new father (hehe) of lucien. but that would mean Lucien was also two hundred years old during the game. do breton live so long ? i know that elves and vampires do.

Nope, I still need to update the date of that chapter, we're actually set 40 years before the events of oblivion. I'm not sticking rigidly to lore for Vincente though.

ok thanks.