We made our way out of the sewers by a different route, emerging from one of the dozens of various storm drains and hatchways scattered throughout the city. Smelling of effluent and bodily fluids we surprisingly didn’t turn any eyes or draw attention to ourselves. Baurus had purposely led us out of one of the exits just outside the north wall where the majority of leather workshops were located and where we found ourselves almost wishing to be back in the sewers. It was here that some of the primary sewer exits could be found and the city’s fellmongers and tanners utilised the streams of waste to their advantage for the process of curing the hundreds of hides that found their way to their shops every day. As a trio of filthy but armed individuals emerging from the sewer, we appeared as though we were one of the many parties fulfilling contracts to cull the creatures of the undercity.

  Complaining bitterly, both Viconia and I returned to the Boarding house as Baurus took the book directly to the Arcane University. Along the way, every person downwind of us provided a clear berth no matter how thickly the crowds pressed around us. Viconia especially complained every step of the way, cursing in Drow and common and glaring at anyone who even thought about looking in her direction. Luther himself didn’t even bat an eyelid at our appearances as we pushed our way inside, and our dark expressions ensured that none of the patrons raised any voice of complaint as we strode past them before disappearing into the various washrooms.

  Stripping ourselves of everything we wore, our clothing was handed off to a pair of young running boys that Luther sent in our direction. With a promise of a gold septim each, they immediately sped away to the launderers. Our armour was set aside in pieces and for the first few hours of the evening both of us went through the laborious duty of scouring, wiping and polishing every piece. Carefully not just removing the coatings of filth and blood and their smells but also ensuring that rust and decay wouldn’t begin to creep in. Both of us worked alone, sitting on adjacent tables and barely talking to one another as we concentrated on ensuring that every centimetre of our protection was maintained while eating our evening meals.

  Baurus returned shortly after the tenth bell, just as the raucous activity within the dining hall began to grow as liquor began to flow more freely. He had met with the Argonian researcher, had provided her with our retrieved copy of the fourth book and he promised that she would send word as soon as she discovered anything. It would be some time though before anything could be made of the book’s writings so for the coming days we were free to do as we pleased.

  As the three of us retired for the evening I found myself restless and sleep proved elusive. The thirst had been building steadily for days and after that evening events I knew that there was no more suppressing it. I knew that I was losing the battle against the darkness, the lack of emotion I had felt as I casually watched Viconia slay the cultists in the tunnels was almost more horrifying to me than the blood-urge. Even as that same urge made me rise, dress myself in my freshly washed and scrubbed clothes and fade into the night like a whisper I couldn’t help feeling the scream of desperation from the man that I once echo through the depths of my subconscious. It was enough that the question of my sanity made me challenge the notion of whether I had any remaining as I stalked my way through the darkened streets for suitable prey.

  The rising orbs of Masser and Secunda, and the dozens of lit lanterns and lamps lining the streets did nothing to reveal my presence as the vampire rose to the surface. My flesh twisted and tightened, fangs sliding out of my jaw and gums as my visage turned into one of a predator of the night. The darkened streets and alleyways were throbbing with life, the pulsating sources of lifeblood clouding my vision as I slunk down an alleyway, barely even seeing the hooded figure step around the corner and confront me with a knife glinting in the gloom. There was a moment of panic from the figure as the would-be murderer realised that his mark was not as lost and nowhere nearly as defenceless as he had initially believed. Before he could even finish following through with the stab meant to skewer my heart I had already slammed him into the wall. Twisting the knife out of his grasp with a savage jerk I bit into his throat with enough force that a bloody glob of flesh was stuck between my teeth. Almost utterly drained, I disposed of the corpse in a nearby garden but not before sawing away at the neck to obscure the jagged holes where my fangs had punctured his jugular.

  With midnight truly passed I returned to the Boarding house, clambering up the wall like a spider and slipping inside without any of those within realising I had even left my room at all. To those still occupying the dining hall and Viconia in the adjacent room there was nothing to suggest that I had done anything other than collapse into my bed. Finally crawling into the collection of furs and crushed straw I slept well past the hour where breakfasts were cooked in the thousands of homes and businesses throughout the city.

  Viconia and I found ourselves with little to do during the daylight hours, so used to the monotony of traveling through the wilds or the regimented schedule of the Blades we grew weary with remaining in the boarding house. Instead we found ourselves strolling the streets together, aimlessly wandering and doing little more than taking in the sights of the greatest city in Tamriel.

  As we made our way through the different districts I found myself increasing amused at Viconia’s expression of astonishment and almost child-like marvel at the city she had found herself in. Despite her obvious unease of such crowds she was staring and studying everything, looking around at anything that caught her eye and was soon asking me questions with an unquenchable curiosity.

  “So none of the other cities are like this?” She said as we made our way through the interior gates into the Arena district.

  “Not comparably within Tamriel. There is nothing like this place anywhere that I know of, and especially not as large or with so many people living in it.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “It is crowded to say the least.” She pushed her way through a pair of expensively dressed women of some noble house I didn’t recognise. Their expressions were both indignant and haughty as they glanced over the shoddy clothing that Viconia wore, and the obvious beauty underneath that even rags couldn’t hide. She returned their stares with one of such intensity that they both paled and scuttled away into the crowd. “You could place the entirety of Menzoberranzan into just one of this city’s districts and still be left with space. As for the population? It would be swallowed up in this mass as though you had simply spat into the lake.”

  “Is Menzoberranzan your home?” I asked, feeling somewhat proud of myself at getting the pronunciation right the first time.

  “I have no home, but I once did consider that city to be one.” For a moment an expression of sadness washed over her before her eyes hardened into diamonds once more.

  “What was it like?”

  “Nothing like this.” She waved her hands at everything around us, especially towards the towering heights of White-Gold Tower. “It was smaller, more packed and much, much more deadly to live in.”

  “If your skills are testament to how dangerous it was to live there then I can easily believe that.”

  “It was, and I don’t think I can ever understand how so many can live in such proximity and yet have so little death. Menzoberranzan had maybe a third of the population of Bruma, or even Kvatch. Even so, most of those were slaves.”

  “My world is nothing like this, and I could hardly ever believe something like this was even possible, let alone imagine what it could look like. Sure, there are Drow cities that can rival the size and majesty of surface cities but if you had appeared in the Underdark and told me that such a place like this existed then I would have dragged out your tongue and butchered you lest your insanity was contagious.”

  “Don’t your people build cities?”

  She scowled for a moment, stepping around a small huddle of punters as they shouted and placed bets on upcoming fights and duels within the Arena. The towering walls of the circular structure cast us into shadow as we walked around it, hearing the blood thirsty roars of the thousands crammed into the tiered seats within. “The Drow are not like surfacers. We do not dream or build or imagine anything other than death to our foes and the accumulation of power. Where you all seem to step forward willingly into the unknown, the Drow turn their backs to the mists of discovery, and our feet are planted deep into the stone. We are stagnant, unwilling to move or shift and now that I have seen such things with my own eyes I can see how Lloth’s influence poisons us to keep us this way.”

  I paused for a moment and looked at her at the sudden overwhelming vehemence that left her shaking in a mixture of anger and fear. “Lloth?”

  “The Dark Mother, the Queen of Spiders, and the Lady of Chaos. She and she alone controls all the Drow and none can oppose her might.”

  “You make her sound like a god more than a ruler.”

  “That’s because she is.” She looked at me quizzically at my expression. “What? Not all gods are like your Nine, remaining unseen, unheard, and insubstantial as mist. Some stride the world in their physical forms and are all the more terrible for it. But especially now that I am here, I question her teachings even more than I did before.”

  “Do all the Drow worship her?”

  “Most do, there are others but she outlaws them. Her teachings however are that only those who survive are strong. My world is a brutal one and the weak are culled. Power is only grabbed by those with the strength to do so and those who cannot do not live for very long. While I now know that I have always doubted the system that my kind live, I can see the flaws in their unquestioning belief.”

  She spread her arms wide, again motioning to everything around us and shrugging her shoulders at the sight of hundreds of metres of towering white masonry spearing the heavens above us. “How can I account for all this? The Drow are strong, the weak are destroyed and only those fit to rule do so, we don’t have gods of Knowledge, or Crafts and Trade. There is no space for trade, commerce or innovation. Love and trust are for the dead or the insane but yet, here I stand staring into something that for all rights should not exist.”

  “So you obviously don’t believe in her anymore.”

  “Don’t let your ak’nen be filled with shu, Jaluk…” She spat forcibly. “I have not been her follower for some time, possibly even when I served as a priestess.”

  She stopped, suddenly realising that she had said more than she had wished to reveal and clenching her jaw. For a while I believed that she wasn’t going to say anything further, but with visible effort she forced herself to relax as we rounded the Arena into a small area of gardens. “I serve the Nightsinger now, and only she and she alone will have my fealty.”

  “I’ve heard you speak of her before.”

  “That you have. Shar kept me alive on the surface and while I still breathe I will serve her. She is the Goddess of Darkness and through her graces she provides her faithful with luck, and the knowledge to face down their foes. It is with her patronage that I hope to survive long enough to spit in Lloth’s eyes.”

  For a while I walked alongside her, absorbing the revelations and feeling a strange feeling of realisation that grew stronger until it exploded behind my eyes. “Wait, is she also a goddess of mysteries and secrets?” I suddenly spluttered.

  Viconia’s eyes narrowed and she stopped in place, staring at me and making me suddenly feel very nervous. “Yes... How do you know that?”

  “Unless there’s a ridiculous coincidence then the goddess you know as Shar in the Underdark, we on the surface know as Nocturnal.”

  “I don’t see your point.”

  I wet my lips with the tip of my tongue, looking about as the crowds to see if anyone was listening too intently to our conversation. “Nocturnal is one of the Daedric Princes, and after all we have gone through recently you might understand how that mightn’t be a good thing to have others knowing.”

  She grinned slightly, but the expression did little to make me feel calmer. “I can see how that can be a problem. And that’s if they are the same. There are so many gods and goddesses and minor deities in the world that while it is possible, they could be entirely different. Is this a problem for you?”

  For a moment I wasn’t sure, before I briefly shrugged and tried to avoid her gaze. “Not really. I’m not one for believing in the gods, and at this point I couldn’t really care what you believe in as long as it isn’t involving the end of the world.”

  I grinned for a second. “and as long as your belief doesn’t involve me being sacrificed in any way.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that Jaluk. I haven’t performed any rituals since coming here and I’d have to find a more suitable candidate that your pitiful self anyway.”

  “Was that a joke?” her expression may have been her usual stony mask but there was a hint of an amused twinkle in her eye as she regarded my bewilderment.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” She replied cryptically. “In the meantime though, you can show me more of the wonders of this world.”