The walk to the fort took less than half an hour, for the canyon, though wide, was relatively shallow, terminating at a wall in the mountainside. There, perched above the vapors and mists, loomed Fort Dawnguard, ever-watchful like a hawk on the hunt. Its walls were a smooth, sanded stone that left no hold for hand or grapple. Its windows small, bearlike eyes hooded by deep brows of stone. Towers erupted from the ground--spears of righteous fury. As we passed under the first of several wide arms reaching out to grip one of those spears, I ran my hand along the wall. We were but ants crawling into a home for giants. I half-expected a giant to round the corner and demand in grunts and gestures that we leave.
"Why haven't I heard of this place before?" I wondered as we paused in the shadow of that behemoth.
"The fort? Ah, well, that's because the structure was abandoned and deeds destroyed. At one time, the Jarl of the Rift used the fort as an outpost. Of course, it was also a prison for anyone suspicious coming over the border, especially vampires, almost all of whom were refugees from Morrowind during the Akaviri Invasion. Most of them, of course, weren't afflicted, but that didn't stop them from being imprisoned anyway. After the invasion, the outpost was shut down and all associations with the place presumably destroyed," my friend recited, fingering the cold blocks in thought. I found myself distracted by the shapes of his finely-boned hands on the dark stone.
"How do you know all of this?" I asked, finally coming to my senses.
"A little research at the Bard's College and access to some of Riften's records when I worked at the fishery."
"You didn't steal those records, did you?"
"Ai, no! Of course not! Tythis Ulen at the fishery found them floating in the lake after the steward's chamber pot had been emptied. I don't know what happened to those papers, but the Dawnguard must have acquired them. I do recall there being a very old record of supplies being sent to the fort, but not much else." Valindor's hands were suddenly a lot less entrancing, though I didn't think he had actually handled the foul records.
We resumed our journey toward the fort's main gate. Huddles of supplies and crates littered the ground, interspersed at regular intervals. A cluster of empty tents surrounded a cold fire, as if visitors had only just recently retired to the building itself. Beyond that blazed a live campsite where stumps of trees and piles of chopped wood surrounded the flames. I wondered if it was a signal fire, surely these people wouldn't waste so much wood simply to have a fire going with no one attending it.
The attendant appeared momentarily, and I pulled Valindor behind a group of aspens. My hand clamped over his mouth as I watched the Orc, Durak if memory served me correctly, strutted to the stump farthest from the campfire to pick up a crossbow and a pouch of short darts.
"Damn Isran thinks sitting around and waiting for his 'folowers' to come back is safer than actually hunting vampires. Pah! Safer to kill them now while we have the element of surprise," he growled to himself, firing one dart after another into a trunk heavily peppered with holes from previous sessions. The sight irritated me more than anything. They had already destroyed the tree, now they were just prolonging its pain by shooting the only living part with an endless array of darts and arrows! Why didn't they at least kill the root? I spat internally. I knew I had been less than faithful to Y'ffre of the last few months, but I maintained some sense of dignity in ensuring any tree I felled was completely dead as humanely possible.
I made a move to clout the foolish Orc over the head, then remember how he brandished that axe over my prone body in my own yard. He hadn't cared if I had been a vampire then. He only wanted to finish the job, whether it meant he was doing the right thing or not. Angrily I ground my teeth, thinking of such a man hunting Hrefna. Such people were scarcely better than Constantius had been. At least, Orcs weren't prone to political machinations and--
Durak's head spun around as a twig cracked under my boot. Without realizing it, I had released Valindor and begun to advance on the Orc with my weapon drawn. I froze in place, suddenly afraid he'd try to take my head off because I existed as an incomplete job.
Eventually, he returned to shooting the stump, this time more viciously than before. Val ushered me along the last dogleg of the path while I silently fumed. Seeing another felled grove on the left did not improve my impressions of the Dawnguard, which were already rather low to begin with.
Yet, I was at last mentally silenced as the impressive structure of the fort proper dominated the skyline. This must have been a hopeful sight to those first coming here, seeking safety from the chaos of the invasion collapse; then a terrifying symbol of desperation once the stories of this place followed and the potential dangers held within became known. As the stones were lit aflame by the dying rays of the day's light, a middle-aged Breton stood on the steps, greeting a young man who nervously approached the central doors.
"Ah, another to join the Dawnguard?" he said, looking at us quizzically.
"No, we just--" Valindor began.
"Yes. We've come to join you. Where do we need to go?" I interjected hurriedly.
"Just head on inside. Isran has been unpacking some of the weaponry or he'd otherwise be here inviting folks in."
"I see, thank you." With a pointed look at Valindor, we headed inside, Meeko following in our wake.
Darkness slammed into our eyes as the door closed behind us. The smell of dust and stale are filled the chamber. Footsteps echoed loudly against the solid walls and floors. Eventually, my eyes adjusted and I saw the young man shifting nervously from one foot to another. I brushed past him as I stepped into the main chamber where an opening in the ceiling let in a column of dim sunlight. In the center of the floor, a heavy bearded Redguard and a robed man were speaking animatedly.
"Isran, you have to send help! The Hall was decimated! The few of us that remain only just finished removing the dead," croaked the robed man.
"That's not my problem, Tolan. We've been camped out here for months. Had you been true to your actual goals, you would have joined us as soon as we'd arrived," the Redguard, Isran, said patiently.
"Not your problem! You're a servant of Stendarr as much as I am. How can you possibly refuse the aid of your fellow man? This is ludicrous! My remaining Vigilants are out there dying because they're utterly outmatched!" Tolan shouted. Isran then noticed that we were standing awkwardly in the doorway.
"We'll have to speak of this later. Perhaps once your blood as quit boiling for and you see reason. It seems I have some new recruits to address."
"Reason! See reason? How could you-- I don't-- This is impos-- Stendarr, grant me patience." The short-statured man stormed out of the chamber, his footsteps echoing for some time down the hallway.
"Welcome, new blood," Isran chuckled, addressing us with wide arms and a hard grin. His face was a web of scars and scraggly facial hair. "So, why have you come to join the Dawnguard?"
For a moment, I panicked, unsure of how much of the truth I should tell him. Then, remembering Derkeethus' mantra, Play the ruse, I took a steadying breath and began. "My sister was attacked by vampires, and I've been looking for their leader ever since. I haven't had much success. She's...afflicted now, and I don't have it in my heart to kill her. I was hoping you knew of a cure and if you could help me kill her 'maker'." The lie came out with just the right level of shame, reservation, and sorrow. My late friend would have been proud.
"I'm afraid we know of no cure here, though there's a man in Morthal, a user of foul Daedric magic, that may know something on the matter. As for finding your sister's creator, well, that will be a whole different matter. I'll get some of my men on it, but, in the meantime, I'd like you to help get that Vigilant off my hands. It would take you close to Morthal, actually..." Iran spoke, gesturing grandly inspite of his otherwise roughened appearance. Had I not known better, I would have likened him to a corsair. We were to go with Tolan to the Hall of the Vigilant, a place I already knew too well, and appease him in whatever way necessary.
To this Valindor and I agreed before we retired to a smaller room just beyond the foyer. Here, a massive hearth burned with a low fire while cots lined the walls. I slumped into one of the chairs and stretched my legs out.
"You didn't have to lie like that," Valindor said, fixing me with a look of disapproval.
"I know, I just...I don't know what came over me. It just popped out of my mouth like that," I frowned.
For the rest of the evening we sat in a chilly silence, both of us glancing at the other periodically, waiting for one of us to break the quiet. We never did, but Valindor hummed something softly after a while that put me to sleep in the chair. I was eventually lifted into a cot, where a blurry Val stood nearby, watching me for several long minutes before leaving me to sleep.
