Leaving the blackened city behind us we rode down the winding highway to the west. Snaking through the outcroppings of rock and in some places punching through where teams of men had forcibly carved the highway's passage we followed the cobblestones towards our destination. County Kvatch was sparse in comparison to the densely wooded forests of Chorrol and mountainous ranges of Bruma, but County Anvil was even more so. Rolling hills and small thickets of woods were scattered as far as the eye could see, and other than streams and creeks flowing south to the Strid River there was barely any break in the landscape. To the south the depths of Valenwood lingered just over the horizon, leaving the distance smeared with greenery on the opposite bank of the massive river when the road rose onto a hill high enough to see that far.

  Otherwise the Gold Coast seemed to live up to its name, everywhere autumn dried fields of grasses swayed in the breeze and the proximity between Valenwood and the Deserts of Hammerfell ensured that the temperatures rose and became slightly uncomfortable in our clothes and armour. Only during the cool of the evenings did we find ourselves comfortable, taking the time to shed a few of the layers to rest and I found myself dressed in just my leathers and chainmail for most of the journey.

  Each night we stayed indoors, paying for lodging at the coaching inns along the road and being thankful that we no longer had the issues with coin as what we had weeks previously. Each night we stayed in semi-comfortable beds, eating well from the collections of food but I was finding rest more and more difficult to acquire every evening. The thirst that I had so far managed to keep at bay for the past week since a short feed within the walls of Skingrad was growing ever more pressing and I knew that it would not be long before I would have to satiate it lest the beast rise to the surface and take control.

  Arriving at the Brina Cross Inn shortly after lunch we decided to stay the afternoon and evening rather than travelling the last handful of hours to reach the city. While the journey would have been short comparatively we decided against finishing it in the afternoon as it would have been well after dark by the time that we would arrive in the port city. We rested for the most part, making ourselves comfortable for the short stay and allowing me to have some time alone in the nearby wilderness.

  Under the guise of hunting some fresh meat for the inn I faded into the few copses of birch and waded through the waist high grasses of the hills throughout the area. Game was plentiful in the regions between the cities but the vast tracts of plains of County Anvil made hunting somewhat more difficult than other regions. Anything smaller than a deer could easily hide within the depths of the rolling grasslands and I was never one for hunting the birdlife, preferring boar or venison over pheasant or grouse. For a handful of hours I stalked through the region until the sight of the tall walled coaching inn faded over the rises, the sun beginning to lower over the horizon and cover the land with golden hues.

  Farms were rare, and only a handful of minor settlements could be found scattered throughout the county. Agriculturally poor, most of the wealth could be found on the coast where the bounty of the oceans could easily be attained. Fishing villages dotted most of the coastline, intermingled with various saltworks that produced sizable quantities of the mineral for packing and curing. A significant amount of the population was found within a few hundred metres of the Abecean Sea and only a few hundred braved the depths of the county.

  Finally coming across a small herd of hardy Colovion goats that without my vampiric senses I would've struggled to locate I managed to down one with a deep tanged broadhead. The impact of the arrow threw it to the ground bleating piteously and loud enough that I could hear it even without my vampiric hearing from two hundred yards away. The rest of the herd scattered it all directions, fleeing into the depths of the swaying grasses and vanishing, leaving the wounded one to finish bleeding out in the dusty soil.

  With my fresh kill draped over both shoulders, bow unstrung and in its leather carry case I strode through the grasses as they caressed my armoured thighs. Dressed in my chainmail and leather I was soon sweating in the autumn heat, the salt stinging my eyes and reminding me of the deep aches and creaking muscles of dragging the head of the minotaur lord for several kilometres. The goat, while heavier than my armour and equipment combined was barely enough to slow me down or even give me a sore back. As dusk began to drag the sun down towards the horizon I found myself breaking into a mild jog as the vampire embraced the gloom and lengthening shadows, my chainmail jingling across the flagstones of the highway as I made my way west back towards the tavern.

  At this hour there was little traffic on the road, the pounding of hooves absent as messengers and traveller alike began to prepare themselves for the evening ahead. Nearly all were settling indoors or putting the final preparations on their campsites if they found themselves too far from a tavern or stable.

  Steadily my armoured boots pounded into the surface of the road until my lungs finally began to tighten and the bouncing impacts of the goat carcass against my shoulder made themselves felt. For the most part the roads were deserted, which allowed me to chew away at the distance between myself and the inn but as I made it to the final stretch I had to slow my pace to a crawl as a single individual made her way the opposite direction. Normally the passing of strangers on the road was a frequent occurrence, but to come across a lone individual this close to evening, travelling in the opposite direction to the nearest tavern was enough to make me uneasy.

  Dressed in a finely made, but well-worn dress that flowed with every step I watched as she made her way down the road without the slightest concern with the descending night. The dress was ankle length and made for lengthy travels along the road, but did not appear as clothing that one may find on someone travelling by foot. A simple travellers bag was slung over a shoulder, fashioned like a handbag that was hanging by her hip and other than a simple dagger in its leather sheath she wore little else. My wariness was only further increased by the distinct lack of any other baggage or travelling items such as a bedroll or waterskin and while possible I found it difficult to believe that she was simply out for an evening stroll. No one in their right mind or without purpose would be alone and a handful of kilometres between the closest building at this hour.

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  Moving towards her I studied her closely, seeing the determined expression as she stared at me and the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corners of her mouth as she looked at me. She was tall, finely featured and somewhat attractive in the way that all elves seemed to be. While not comparable to Viconia, the Altmer strolling down the road towards me was considerably good looking; long legs, luscious hips and a body that most men would not mind warming their beds for an evening. The level of arrogance, so typical of Altmer seemed to be infused into every gesture and step she made as the distance between us closed until we found ourselves with less than a handful of metres between us.

  "Good evening." She said sweetly, looking me over and staring distastefully at the bloodless corpse of the goat slung over my shoulders.

  "Good evening." I replied, feeling my arms tense from where they were holding onto the goats by the legs. Every instinct I had, both human and vampiric were screaming at me now and I was struggling to keep my face neutral, even as she drew her dagger with an experienced hand and smiled wickedly.

  Whatever thoughts were going through her mind it was obvious that she had mistaken the expression of weariness on my face as fear or surprise. "I'm afraid your journey ends here, traveller."

  "Can't a week go by without someone attempting to rob or stab me?" I muttered, not quiet loud enough for her to hear. The bones of my skull were tingling, and I pressed my mouth closed in a grimace to hide the fact that my incisors were beginning to lengthen.

  "I'll be taking whatever you're carrying."

  "You have chosen the very worst person to rob." I said simply, shifting my weight imperceptibly, and tightening my grip on the goat carcass even as she laughed.

  "This isn't a usual robbery." She replied, and a hovering spike of ice appeared in the palm of her hand with a simple gesture. Even from the distance of four metres I could feel the sudden shift in temperature as she called upon potent magicka. Whoever she was, she was a powerful mage and my unease grew stronger. "I do hope you have more on you than the last few had. They were most disappointing."

  "And I hope that you will simply turn around and forget you ever saw me." The beast was growing stronger now and its urges were not going to be simply crushed aside for much longer. In the gathering twilight she was unable to see how my jaw and brows began to tighten and skin grow as taut as a bowstring. "I can give you a head start, otherwise your life is forfeit."

  "You really don't understand the situation you are in... Do you fool? I am going to be taking everything of value you hold, and you of course be dead when that happens."

  "Not if I kill you first." My grin was ferocious and there was no mistaking the fact that my incisors had grown long and pointed even with the distance that separated us. The sudden look of fear that crossed her features was glorious to behold to my darker nature and for a moment her spell flickered as her concentration wavered.

  Mouth opening wide in horror she instinctively realised my true nature, flinging her hand forward she threw the magical spike of ice at me as though it was a throwing dagger. The frozen blade narrowly missed my chest as I twisted aside with unnatural speed, feeling the frigid passage flow over my exposed face even as I swung the goat in her direction.

  With a cry of surprise, she fell backwards when the full force of the thrown goat knocked her onto her rear. The level of horror and fear that was flowing from her pores was only inciting the beast consuming my sanity to push further from the depths of my soul. I could sense her heart beating in her chest, feel the panicking breaths as she dragged them into her lungs and hear the mumbled incantations as she struggled to call upon every ounce of magical ability to save her from me.

  A wave of frost and blasting ice flowed from her outstretched hand as she threw the goat off, and I felt the full force of the icy blast strike me right in the chest and send shivers through the core of my being. With the full force of a storm rolling in from the sea of Ghosts I felt my teeth chattering, even as I staggered forward with my head down as though I was simply marching head first into the heart of the storm. The level of power flowing from her fingertips was staggering and within seconds I was concerned for my chances. Sunchild was still tightly clasped in its sheath, the growing layers of frost crackling over my chainmail freezing it tight in the scabbard along with all my other blades. Each step suddenly became laborious as I had to physically tear the soles of my boots from the growing ice shards erupting and consuming the ground under me and the tingling of my jaw and skull was soon replaced with what felt like the onset of frostbite.

  The beast however was unconcerned like it always was with the difficulties of the flesh, instead flooding my muscles with warmth and unnatural strength that allowed me to simply batter my way through spells that had every right killing me in a single step. Scrabbling backwards one handed she roared her frustration and utter terror to the sky as I simply came on through the spell, armour cracking and sleet pouring from my leather and chainmail as I reached out with blackened talons and caught her hand.

  Shrieking in pain as well as overwhelming terror she struggled, pulling and trying desperately to free herself from the beartrap of a grip I had caught her hand in. What little control over her spells was soon gone as I crushed the fine bones of her hand and wrist, leaving her fingers broken and twisted even as she shrieked in utter agony.

  "You should have run." I growled, and through the haze of terror and pain she gazed into my face that was now wholly consumed by the daedric vampire. The horror on her elfin features was struggling through the pain as she grasped at her ruined hand, twitching away from me even as I drew myself even closer until my hot breath was rustling the hair framing her face.

  Releasing my grip on her mangled hand I gripped her tightly by the jaw until my talons drew tiny droplets of blood from her cheeks and throat. The fear in her eyes was intoxicating and my desire for her blood was thundering through my mind as I leant over her, running a tongue up the curves of her throat and tasting the tiny droplets of the ruby fluid leaking from the scratches. I could taste the sweat and lingering traces of excitement and arousal that she had felt leading up to what she had considered to be an easy mark and the eventual taking of a life. Like the beast controlling my actions she enjoyed death and inflicting pain on others but had never contemplated that one day that she might be on the receiving end of such actions.

  Shudders wracking her body, she soon realised that the beast would not be simply satiated with her blood. When my distorted lips pressed against her own and my tongue began snaking into her mouth, the sounds of her dress being shredded were lost to her screams of horror and realisation.