The Last Witch Hunters: Chapter Seven

  • Shawk stared at Seden for a few minutes, his hands gripping his old friend’s cloth covered shoulders tightly; he couldn’t believe it was real. “So he was that elf then?” Shawk forced the words out, his apparent shock still evident in the tone of his voice. The reminder of the elf forced Seden to break away from Shawk’s hold, he turned and looked at where the elf had been a few minutes earlier. “Through himself over the edge after I knocked you off him.” Shawk grunted, “Why were you after him?”

    “He killed four people; one of them was my friend.” Seden whispered his voice croaking at the memory of Garog’s lifeless body sprawled on the floor.

    “I’m sorry old friend, I didn’t recognise you, and I thought it was a vampire attack…” Shawk trailed off, “You’re a vampire.” He said, the sound of disbelief returning to his voice.

    “Aye, it’s how I survived the attack all those years ago…” Like Shawk, Seden began to trail off, predicting the oncoming question Shawk quickly stepped in.
    “We’ll talk inside, where there’s less people watching us.” A look of confusion flashed across Seden’s face then he looked around and saw a dozen stable workers and farmhands crouched in the stable’s and two guards on looking from further up the bridge. Shawk put a hand on Seden’s shoulder and lead him towards the stables, the stable master cowered in front of the door gripping a wooden broomstick tightly, defiant even as scared as he obviously was. “Let us pass.” Shawk growled.

    “N-no, I will not let you into my home!” The feeble man whimpered, Seden marvelled at his courage.

    “I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll ask again before I just enter, Let. Me. In.” Seden noticed the stable masters courage break down and saw the two guards start walking towards them; he decided it was time he stepped in.

    “Here good friend,” He smiled warmly passing the man a heavy coin purse, “One hundred Septims, is it enough to compensate for out stay, we simply need a place of refuge to talk in private?” The stable master looked shocked and his mouth hung open, staring at the coin purse. “I suppose your right; one hundred Septims would be a scam if I’m asking for your silence on top of refuge.” Seden reached into his pocket and placed five midnight, black Dumacs into the coin purse, worth fifty Septims.

    “W-why not use the inn?” The stable master stuttered, and then cursed under his breath realising it was a stupid thing to say with 150 septims on offer.

    “There’s been an incident.” Seden muttered, his face darkening as his memory drifted.

    “Oh, ok the house is yours until nightfall.” He dropped the broom and fumbled in his pocket for a key before sliding it into the lock and ushering the two vampires inside.

    .   .   .

    The two friends spent the next few hours discussing their lives since the incident, catching up, telling tales. Seden was just as surprised to discover Shawk was also a vampire and the muscular night stalker began to tell his friend of a crusade he’d set out on after waking up, he’d hunted down every vampire in Skyrim, going from hold to hold chasing down rumours and dismembering those who’d killed the Witch Hunters. Eventually the vampires began to hunt him; he was the most hated enemy of the night walkers and had been forced to go into hiding in Whiterun, using a false name to remain incognito. Seden told of his adventures at sea, fighting Thalmor war ships and raiding bandit fort and ships. The two of them avoided talking of the destruction of the Witch Hunters but they both had numerous questions on the topic. Shawk was in the middle of telling the tale of his crusade against the vampires when he stopped mid-sentence. “You brought me here.” He said bluntly. Seden looked confused and raised a puzzled eyebrow at his friend. “You sent the letter, telling me to come, I’d forgotten about it in all that’s happened but you told me to come to Windhelm.”

    “Letter… what letter?” Seden queried, not understanding his friend.

    Shawk fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a folded piece of grubby paper before unfolding it and sliding it across the table.


    I’m a friend, an old friend from your past and I need your skills, I need your help. Travel to Windhelm and search the city for a face from the past, you will know him when you see him. When you find this face the two of you will need to travel to where the end began.

    D, a friend

    “You travelled here because of one small letter; it doesn’t tell you anything, why did you come?” Seden frowned after reading the parchment.

    “It has my name on it…” Shawk grunted. Seden still looked confused so he elaborated, “I told you I used a false alias when in Whiterun so when I saw my name I knew it must have been someone important, and it peeked my curiosity.”

    “I didn’t send this, look here, whoever this ‘D’ is; they wrote the letter.” Seden pointed at the fancy D scrawled at the bottom of the page.

    “You don’t think…” Shawk started, looking up at Seden. Seden nodded.

    “It’s time we talk about thirty years ago, we’ve been avoiding the topic but you need to know what I know, and I need to know what you know.” Seden stared at Shawk, it was going to be difficult but he had to tell him, Duncan was alive, he’d saved Seden from death and brought him to Windhelm, he needed to know how Shawk had survived, if Duncan had gone back for him there may be some clue as to where he was, if it really was him.

    Shawk remembered nothing.

    (Sorry for the short chapter just wanted to get another one out there as it's been a while, if your enjoying the story go check out Sonecas The Ousider, it's not getting enough attention at the moment and is a seriously great read)

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1 Comment
  • Soneca the Exiled
    Soneca the Exiled   ·  January 4, 2014
    Thx so much for the plug man really appreciate it