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joruthar · 7 years

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Taron Setethi: His Vampirism, In His Own Words

From the journal of Lliros Indoril, 29th of Evening Star, 2E 581

Those infernal Dres and their Khajiit! As if being in the blighted backwater of Kragenmoor over what could have been a decent enough celebration of my birthday wasn’t enough, one of the Khajiit slaves attacked me while I was down in the market. I didn’t get a good look at the creature before it was on me. All I remember is a blur of light gray fur, clumped and unhealthy though not dirty like some of the other slaves. The eyes were bright red, sunken in their sockets, and the creature had fangs like the sabre cats of Skyrim. I barely managed to avoid having my throat torn out by those fangs! It caught me on my right side, where my neck and my shoulder meet. While it was busy worrying at my flesh, I managed to burn it enough with spells to make it retreat Daedra-only-knows-where.

I have felt…distinctly odd since, which I sincerely hope isn’t the start of whatever brain rot afflicted that Khajiit slave. I have been using much of my time and energy since the attack to heal the wound.

From the journal of Lliros Indoril, 30th of Evening Star, 2E 581

Thrice damn the Dres! My host denies ever having owned a Khajiit matching the description of the one that attacked me. My questioning seems to have upset some among House Dres, and I find myself receiving a much colder welcome than I did only days ago from my hosts. Were it not for my own healing knowledge, I’d be without. According to my hosts, the local healer is away on business of some importance. Funny, I could have sworn I heard him when I was in the market earlier, restocking my supply of herbs.

The wound is mostly healed, at any rate, though it has sapped a great deal of my strength. I slept poorly last night, a symptom I can only assume is from the fever I know I must be suffering from, though my usual potion did nothing to relieve it. I remember little of the dreams, only that I was performing horrible acts. I disturbed my hosts, I suspect, as I woke screaming more than once throughout the night. The sleep did little to refresh me, and I find myself shrinking from the light outside. It hurts my eyes. The trip to the market earlier was a fresh bit of torture. Not looking forward to tonight, if I cannot get this fever under control. I have prepared a sleeping potion that might help me to sleep less fitfully, but in light of how the other potions I’ve taken have fared, I have little hope for this one.

From the journal of Lliros Indoril, 31st of Evening Star, 2E 581

I have most definitely offended my host. Breakfast this morning was…a cold affair, in more than just temperature. Though I feel worse than ever, I found it necessary to leave my host’s home, at least as far as the local inn, so as to avoid any unpleasantness. One thing I have never heard is that a guest of House Dres outstayed his welcome. In the inn, under the watchful eye of visiting Nords and Imperials, I can at least be halfway certain I will not be stabbed over supper. Poison is still a distinct possibility, but my stomach has become so touchy that I can barely stomach a bit of bread and broth. I have informed my family of developments with the Dres in hopes that the situation can be resolved by others.

I slept deeply last night, a change from the previous night, but I felt no less exhausted upon waking. I’ve begun to seriously consider whether I did, in fact, catch some form of brain rot from that Khajiit. The wound itself is mostly healed, except for a pair of scars that I can do no more to heal. My own spells exhaust me far too much now and they do nothing to help me anymore. Potions are useless. The local healer is still nowhere to be found.

The Nords will have nothing to do with me, but I have struck a precarious friendship with two of the Imperials, visiting soldiers. For some of my potions, they’ve agreed to help me get to Ebonheart. I count myself fortunate, because I am weak enough now that I doubt I’d make it on my own. With luck, I should be at the Tribunal Temple in a few days.

From the journal of Lliros Indoril, 10th of Morning Star, 2E 581

I came to myself in darkness. Not the pitch darkness of a cave but the darkness of a moonless night. A fire flickered and died nearby, embers from that fire licked at a tent had been torn apart. The entire campsite around me looked as if an animal had attacked it. Bodies were scattered around, obviously dead, bloodless, all possessing wounds in the neck. I examined myself and found I was covered in blood, none of it mine. It did, however, awaken a slight tickle of instinct….hunger. My questing tongue found sharp fangs, not as long as the Khajiit’s, thank the Three, but long enough.

Though I have no memory of the last several days, I have been able to piece together a bit from the Imperials’ records. I was very sick when they left Kragenmoor in the middle of the night. I barely even woke, and then only to mutter some threat to the Dres guards that left my Imperial escort with little choice but to make for the Rift instead of Ebonheart. I expired sometime during the trip, and my body was crated up with the expectation they would be able to hand me off to a House Indoril official, but it was taking longer than they planned. They had not expected me to wake, clearly, and like the Khajiit I was mindless in my hunger. Fortunately, once my hunger was sated, my senses returned.

I find myself an exile from Pact lands. A patrol found my handiwork soon after I secured the Imperials’ journals and personal effects, following the path the panicked horses took to the nearby town. I was spotted, and though I wasn’t recognized, there can be no doubt some, at least, have put the puzzle together. From the Imperials’ journals I see that House Dres sent mercenaries after the Imperials once we left Stonefalls, and with the Imperials now dead and found by Pact soldiers but my body missing, I will be the prime suspect.

I have found passage in a caravan through Cyrodiil and Reaper’s March, and I intend to make my own way from there to one of the coastal cities, and from there to the Gold Coast or to Stros M'Kai, where I can disappear among the pirates and lowlifes.

From my so far limited observations, I resemble the vampires of Skyrim more than those that still plague Morrowind. I can only assume the Khajiit that attacked me contracted the disease there or was captured in Nord lands. It explains why the Nords in Kragenmoor wanted nothing to do with me. No doubt they recognized the symptoms I suffered. I intend to raid one of the local Mage Guilds for books on the vampires of Skyrim before the caravan departs. Perhaps one will tell me more about what I am now.

Fortunately, with a great deal of effort, it is not impossible to go unnoticed. I am not harmed by the sun, just weakened considerably during daylight hours. I certainly wouldn’t want to have to fight off hunters during the day. I have been able to hide the changes to my features a bit, enough to pass among the Nords, feed, and do some business, and I look forward to getting away from here to the coast, where Dunmer are less common and any strangeness may go unremarked.

#taron setethi #eso #eso rp

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