The Didact's Shout Part 9, New Neighbor

I honestly forgot how I even ended up in Skyrim. One second, I'm sailing in a ship from Durnmount, the next I'm riding along the many roads that line the province's mountains. I suppose it's not all that bad, I've been making quite a living for myself, what with all of the unwary wanderers here and there that think it's wise to try and rob me. I feel wrong somehow, for taking those strange Argonian boots. They seem... unnatural.

It was a misty afternoon, and Skyrim's sun was settling just behind the mountains that lined the Hjaalmarch region. Adrasteia Akeldama pulled back her hood, letting her raven black hair fall free. It had been a long day in the sun, and she was glad that it was just now getting cooler. Her trip had started all the way from Falkreath, where she'd managed to seduce the jarl's personal caravan driver into giving it up to her. The woman's own satisfaction turned to glee when she saw the riches inside, coupled with a bed and many other features. A carriage of royalty indeed.

Adrasteia had since then been using it as her "mobile base", resting whenever the rare time came up. She travelled alone, preferring to only worry about herself. There were times that she'd fall into a bout of depression, longing to share her life with someone. Life just seemed to have no meaning if it meant that she'd only share her best moments with herself. The feeling only lasted about a week, and came back every other month. Lately however, she'd been feeling pretty good with the way things had been going for her.

It started with the boots. She had no idea who they might have belonged to, and frankly, she didn't care. While riding the carriage, Adrasteia happened to sense a group nearby, five people circling around her behind the cover of the foliage. As she was approaching the stone bridge, a man who wore fur garb and had a wickedly jagged blade stepped out to block her path. he held up a hand, signalling her to stop. Adrasteia inwardly groaned, but she mustered the friendliest smile she could.

She woahed to her horse, and hooked the reigns to the seat's sturdy steel railing."Why, hello there. To what do I owe this pleasant surprise on such a nice, warm morning?"

The gruff looking nord placed his hands on his hips, and spit on the ground. "Well for starters, you owe me a nice surplus amount of gold. About seven-hundred septims."

"Seven-hundred, huh?", she feigned being in deep thought. "What if I don't have enough gold?"

"Then I'm sure you can pay me through other means. Now, which is it?" As he finished, the four others stepped out into view, their weapons at the ready. She saw the nord in front, an argonian flanking her left, a breton woman on her right, and two other nord men standing by the bridge behind the leader. Adrasteia hopped down from the wagon, grinning as she did so.

The bandit leader saw what she was wearing, and admitted that he was attracted to what he saw: the woman wore a long flowing dress, that looked like a silk nightgown more than an article of clothing. As she approached him, he noticed that she had her dark hair pulled back by a mahogany hair comb that sat on top. Sticking out above her right ear was a pin that stuck out the back, with little steel tines that dangle and clinked softly as she walked.

There were tiny white flowers that dangled like a vine, stopping at her earlobe. He had to admit, she was certainly pretty for someone who was being threatened. He expected to see her cower and grovel at his feet, not talk as though they were old friends discussing the weather. He was so lost in her gown, that he didn't notice that she was now only a few inches in front of him, studying his face while he stood there.

He could now see that on her clothing bore a distinct pattern, which he thought were thin tree branches that were budding blossoms along their lengths. She arched an eyebrow, as he caught himself staring at her, although she may have thought he was ogling her. He cleared his throat, slightly flustered. Noticing this, Adrasteia began to walk in circles around him as she spoke.

"You must be so tired of living a life like this, sharing your hard-earned wealth with these fools." As she rounded him a third time, she trailed a finger along his collarbone. The breton scoffed, rolling her eyes. She continued, "I'm sure you've dreamed of something better, yearning for a life that would have meaning for once." Adrasteia leaned in close to his ear. "Oh brave soldier, come with die with me."

Before he could react, she took the nape of his neck, wrenching it sideways, and clamped her jaw along the side. It was over in seconds, his death throes doing nothing to free himself from the frightening woman's iron grip. Adrasteia moaned with pleasure at tasting the hot blood, her strength suddenly tenfold. It took the others a moment to snap out of their shock, and in a few seconds they were upon her. The breton woman cursed as she fired her arrows, always missing their mark as the vampiress ducked and weaved out of her firing path.

The argonian swung an axe at her, managing to slice off the very ends of her hair. Adrasteia's face scrunched up in anger, and she tackled him. She crunched up the reptile's hand in her own slender palm, and was rewarded with an agonizing scream. She managed to wrestle the one-handed weapon into her possession, raising it high for the killing blow. Instead of beheading the argonian, however, she threw it in a fine line at one of the remaining nords. He was making a beeline for her, in a vain attempt to save his friend.

The axe thwacked into his face, dropping him in an instant. Adrasteia turned back to whimpering argonian, grabbed the sides of his leathery head, and broke the bones in his neck without remorse. Cackling menacingly, she turned to face the last two bandits: the breton woman and the nord. They stood where the dirt met the stone that bridged the gap that the flowing river made.

The breton nocked another arrow, getting a bead on the other woman's face. The man stood in a ready stance, his banded iron shield raised, and his steel blade pointed forward. Adrasteia wasted no time in making her next move. Taking the fallen argonians corpse as a makeshift shield, she charged. The breton fired as fast as her bow would allow her, and huffed in disappointment as the arrows stuck into the reptile's back.

Yelling with her inner fury, the vampiress hurled the cadaver straight at the woman, knocking her off of her feet. The trick bought her enough time to deal with the nord, who bashed his shield into her face during the lull. She gasped as one of her teeth flew through the air, and skittered along the stone road. Adrasteia had had enough. She took ahold of the nord's shield, pulling with enough strength to wrench his arm out of it's socket. Wielding the iron guard like a cudgel, she smashed away until his helmet finally crunched and fell off.

Underneath, he was bruised and battered beyond conventional repair. Although, he wouldn't need a healer where he was going, she thought. Putting all of her strength into her last swing, she connected the shield's edge right into the bastard's neck. With a wet crack, his head flew into the riverbed, splashing with the weight of a good sized stone. She was panting now, exerting herself in the sun was never a good idea. Growling, she turned to the coughing breton who was still prone, struggling to rise.

Adrasteia grabbed her by the throat, holding her above the ground. She sneered as she said, "I'm going to need my tooth back."

Without waiting for a reply, she took the woman, exposed her neck, and drank her dry. The breton cried out in pain, hoping someone would hear her. Her pleas soon turned to slow moans as she felt the last of her strength being sucked out of her. After a few more moments, all was still and silent. Satisfied, the vampiress fixed her hair as her injuries healed, and her tooth grew back.

Taking the dead woman by her furs, she threw the corpse into the water below, where it silently floated away. Leaving the carnage behind, Adrasteia continued north. The ride was eventless, at least, until she came upon a tower filled with bandits. Looking up at the clouds that began to roll in, she pulled her caravan over to a safe cover under a nearby tree. Her horses were always nervous around her, but were so easily swayed by her honeyed words whenever she comforted them.

Adastreia approached them casually, smiling. Her sharp canines peeked ever slightly and hung over her bottom lip. Immediately, an orc and a nord yelled at her to halt, unsheathing their weapons. Smiling wickedly, the vampiress tore them to bits, and charged into the tower without missing a beat. It was over in seconds. Bodies lined halls, spatters of blood painted rooms in a grotesque fashion, equipment and destroyed objects littered the floors. Admiring her handiwork, she almost pitied how weak everyone seemed to her. Mortals were so easy to break.

She was about to leave the map room as she preened herself, when something in the corner caught her eye. Curiously, she saw that it was a chest, still unlocked, as something inside refused to allow it to shut. Out of anything in the dim grey room, this was the only object that seemed to emanate any color. Pushing the lid open, Adrasteia gasped as she saw a fine pair of boots. They looked heavy, but they would not be difficult for her to carry. They had layers consisting of multiple glimmering plates that were arranged similarly to scales.

What drew her to them the most were the intricate golden lines that curved around its contours. Adrasteia picked them up, eager to try them out. She huffed in disappointment as she realized that the boots were designed for a beast race with two massive talons in place of toes. No matter, she would add them to her collection. She was sure that they'd look great with her-

With horror, she dropped them. "Vile s'wit!"

At first, they were so alluring, and in turn, caused her to fondle them without caution. She then noticed that it seemed as though they were constructed of silver; a holy metal. To her relief, her hands were fine. there were no scorch marks, nothing that would have required several years to heal.

Adrasteia realized that she had dithered for the better part of an hour; the sun would be settling soon. She decided that it would be best for her to make a stop at an inn, where she would rest without worrying about being ambushed, or her caravan being ransacked. Leaving the macabre scene behind her, she made it back to the caravan just before the setting sun broke through the clouds.

She threw the boots into the back, hearing them clink onto the wood floor, and shut her rear door before moving along.

Adrasteia played her favorite moments and memories in her mind, and came back to reality when she saw that she had instead wandered into the whiteshore region, according to her enchanted map. Oh well, she thought, Perhaps I'll stumble into more interesting treasure troves along my way. She had also heard rumors of a murder that targeted young women in Windhelm, kidnapped, and then butchered them with seemingly no remorse.

Easy prey, she mused, whipping the reigns on her horses to make haste.