The Didact's Shout Part 12, Special Pages

This place is dull. All I see is racism, cruelty, and snow. A lot of snow. Where in the thirteen hells is the butcher? I was sure this dress that I... bartered from the local shop would surely help me in luring him. Perhaps I'm missing something? Well, he obviously lives here...

It was easy getting in; finding a good spot to hide the caravan was the hard part. Adrasteia had to find a nearby cave in the hill across from the nord city, and she took only what was necessary: her nordic dress, gold, several lockpicks, her satchel, and her favorite, an ebony dagger.

The guards paid her no attention, save for a few comments on her pale skin. Luckily, the dress came with a veil, and in the blurry winter air, no one had noticed her golden eyes that analyzed and memorized every detail. The vampiress idly walked along the markets, where she made small talk with the vendors and other passerby.

Adrasteia turned to walk away, when she felt a nudge on her arm. She was met grinning face of an imperial, who looked to be in his forties. He grinned with a set of perfect white teeth as he introduced himself, "Hey there, name's Calixto Corrium. You don't seem to be around here, you are..." He chuckled, placing his hands on his hips.

Adrasteia formed an alias, easily done by the many different lives she had to conform to. She decided it would be Imperial, in hopes of gaining his favor. "Alena. Alena Meridius. A pleasure." She extended her hand as a courtesy.

Calixto happily kissed her engraved ring. "Definitely. I run a museum in honor of my late sister, perhaps you'd like to come with?" He shrugged innocently.

'Alena' arched an eyebrow, cautious, yet curious as well. Out of all the people in Windhelm, this single man was the one who seemed to pay the most attention to her. Why? She wasn't sure... but she intended to find out.

"I'd be delighted to see your shop. Lead the way." She offered her hand in kind, looping it through his. "How long has your sister been..."

Calixto quickly picked up her trailing thought as they walked past the CandleHearth tavern, "A year. Long enough to miss her."

Adrasteia feigned sympathy while rolling her eyes, "I'm so sorry-"

"No no, it's fine. She's in a better place." they continued in silence, when they reached the wooden door to the museum, he pulled out his keys and showed her in. All along the walls were shelves and desks brimming with unique items, but none captured Adrasteia's interest.

Calixto removed his coat, settling into a chair. "You're more than welcome to take a look around, but I'm sure that goes without saying."

"Thank you, I will. Wait a moment. What's this?" The vampiress pulled out a dusty black leather book, settling it on the table next to her.

"Oh that, that's my crazy uncle's book. He made it himself, said something about... what was it? Oh yeah, bringing back the dead or something crazy like that. Why?" The imperial raised a questioning brow at her.

"Oh, it's just that I've seen something like this before. It's been a while, may I look?" She looked over her shoulder at him, pursing her lips.

Calixto sighed. "Fine. Just... stay away from the last few sections. They're private." He looked to the ceremonial dagger he found in a crypt that now sat on the side table to his left.

Adrasteia flipped through, unsure of what it was that she was looking for. Then, she saw it. The spell required to raise the dead. Then she realized what the book was: the Necroptionary. Passed down through generations, any mage lucky enough to read the first few chapters could reform deathly graves into their own empire. That was all she needed.

She would rule the world with this knowledge. She would become a goddess to everyone. She laughed at that thought. What she didn't notice was the distance that Calixto was silently closing as he approached her. With an enraged cry, he smashed Adrasteia's face onto the hardwood, plunging the blade into her scandalously exposed back several times.

She barely had time to cry out it, and it was over in seconds. He was heaving with the grief at what he had done, but he did it for his deceased sister. If it meant holding her again, he was damn sure that he was going to take every perfect piece of every fine woman he could.

He turned to prepare his surgical saw, when he heard a groan, a sigh, and then a chuckle. He turned around, and dropped the dagger. The woman still had her back to him, and the wounds made by his blade were now faint scars. His eyes widened in horror at his realization.

She closed the book, and turned to face him. "Really? You could've done better than that... butcher. Don't worry. I'll find a nice, cozy little grave where you and your precious sister can rest. Oh, and this?" She casually patted the book. "I think I'll hold onto this. You won't be needing it anymore." She walked toward him, her high heeled feet clacking ominously along the floor.

Calixto was now panicking. He needed fire. Where... where? His bedroom! He sprinted to the stairwell that would lead up to the second floor, where he always kept a few emergency torches. She was fast upon him, however. He hadn't made it past the second step before he felt someone grab him by his ankles, and pulled him back into the common room.