Bloody Sundas (PM if interested in joining.)

The first thing Azaren groggily recognized upon awakening from his slumber was Eyja's face; the second, her hand on his shoulder. Of the score or so of vampires he called his Children, she was the eldest. In the absence of any more qualified seneschal, she had willingly stepped in to fill that role, and had shown quite a knack for keeping track of the others. The mixture of conjectures, outright lies, and veiled threats he'd fed her and the others gullible enough to believe him had done well to keep her from coveting his position. The lie he'd perpetuated, about dying if your sire perished, had actually instilled quite the protective spirit within his eldest. He also knew, however, that she wouldn't have awakened him unless there was some serious concern - something that required his attention and judgment. "What is it?" were the first words out of his mouth. They came out slurred somewhat, but the look in Eyja's eye as he sat up told Azaren that he'd gotten the point across.

She stepped away, giving him a minute to sit up and orient himself before she spoke. "I received word from Falkreath not long ago that may concern us. I could hardly decipher the thrall's handwriting, but it seems that there have been some disappearances along the road a few miles away. Local chatter makes it sound they believe a group of bandits or some such have moved in." Her clipped Nordic accent was thick, but it was one Azaren had grown quite familiar with. Not that he'd had much of an option.

Half-conscious or not, he could tell there was something more. "And what do you think?" the Dunmer prompted, running a hand over his face and ignoring the letter Eyja held out towards him. It was indeed rather early for him; glancing around, he noted that a pair of the coffins were still closed, as they'd been when he first fell asleep. That probably meant he and Eyja were the only vampires in the cave who were awake.

"Last I heard, those newcomers Varlin brought in was headed out to the road to go to Falkreath - that was a couple of days ago. They haven't come back here and it doesn't sound like they ever made it there either," she replied, wagging the letter in her hand again. He didn't bother taking it to read it himself; Eyja was literate enough, and he trusted her not to lie to him. There were a few leaps to be made in assuming these newcomers were responsible for the disappearances, but he couldn't afford to take any chances. He'd spent some time in his mortal life as a vampire hunter, after all, and he remembered finding and slaughtering a coven of vampires because they'd been careless. Being on one end of that was bad enough; Azaren hardly cared to be caught on the other.

Azaren's predatory visage soured as he swung his legs over and stood up, forcing the Nordic woman to back off further. He'd never been one to sleep in a coffin; the rather comfortable four-poster he'd had reassembled in a corner of the elders' sleeping chamber suited his tastes much more effectively. "Have we any horses?" he asked, adjusting his sleep-wrinkled tunic. He knew what the answer was probably going to be, but it wouldn't have hurt to communicate his intentions.

She shook her head. No surprises there. "I'll rouse Varlin to accompany you; he's a good tracker, and he seemed to know them well enough. What do you plan on doing?"

Now came his turn to shake his head. "I'm not sure yet--but if it's them, I'll handle them alone." The idiots should have known better than to be so careless, so close to the cave the Children called home; but there weren't quite enough vampires under his sway that he could yet afford to slaughter his underlings. Properly vetting, turning, and educating persons of interest took a healthy amount of time and effort. At the same time, though. maybe it would have been best to make an example. To show that he suffered carelessness poorly, to establish that his word was to be listened to.

And even if those vampires weren't involved as Eyja seemed to believe, a little exercise never did hurt anyone.

Upon reaching the top of the outcropping, Cara peered down the length of the road that lay beyond her. At first she couldn't see anything, just more lonely road, but as her eyes scanned up one side as far as she could see, then down the other, she spotted something that lifted her spirits. A fire, well, not the fire itself, but what she could clearly distinguish as the light of a campfire being cast upon the face of some rocks. If not for the rapidly encroaching darkness, the Orc wouldn't have been able to see the light at all, despite it only being a little over a mile away. With a renewed sense of determination, Cara descended the outcropping and began to make her way towards the light. The way she figured, it was either a traveler getting ready to bed down for the night, or, if she was lucky, the culprits behind the recent disappearances.

---

Unbenounced to Savari and her two man escort, they were not alone on the road this night. In fact, for the last two or so miles they'd been trailed by a group that had taken quite a lot of interest in them. This group, consisting of four individuals, had done well in keeping themselves out of sight and at a safe distance to avoid detection, and thus far they'd been successful.

"About time this bitch stopped for the night..." one of the group, a male Argonian, grumbled underneath his breath as the small band came to a stop a short distance away from the Khajiit.

"Whats wrong Caligar, can't handle a little cold?" another man jested, this one a long haired Nord. Before the reptilian could muster a response however, another male Nord, whom had an uncanny resemblance to the first, pitched in.

"Now now Alaric, no need to tease the lad, not everyone has the advantage of being a Nord." he'd comment with a faint chuckle, which earned one from Alaric as well. "Ahh you are right brother, I tend to forget that." This earned a low growl from the Argonian, whom fired right back in an agitated whisper.

"Make your jokes while you can, we'll see who's laughing after I shove a fistful of snow up your-"

"Would you lot shut up?! I can't fucking think with you all yammering on all the time!" a Dunmer woman hissed in a harsh whisper, which promptly shut the three men up. "Now, if you ladies are finished, let's do this thing and get back to camp." The silence that followed was a clear indication that the group was ready for what came next, and when the Dunmer moved out, so to did the rest of them. After closing the distance to the Khajiit merchant and her escort, the Dunmer, a woman by the name of Vaynia, motioned for the others to spread out and take positions on the rocks above. Despite their antics with each other, the four of them were actually pretty close, or at least a lot closer than vampires tended to get with each other. The fact was the group of them had been together for several years now, long before they'd thrown their lot in with Azaren's coven anyways. Many an ambush had been perpetrated by them over the years, but unlike before, they weren't doing it now just for their own personal gain, rather they were hoping to use the money and equipment they'd hoarded to impress the older vampire and cozy up to him. Vaynia didn't need to bother reiterating the plan to the men, they'd done this so many times before that it was committed to muscle memory. The four silently moved into position around their targets, arranging themselves in a half circle so they could strike from multiple directions at once. Vaynia and Caligar were armed with bows, whilst the Nord brothers were armed with crossbows, all selected their targets and took aim, ready to fire immediately when Vaynia released the first shot.

That first shot proved to be a deadly first strike, for when Vaynia released drew back her bow, took aim, and released the arrow, it'd bury itself in Corwin's neck. The man didn't even get the chance to scream as he hit the ground, blood immediately gushing from the wound and spilling from his mouth as he writhed on the ground, his hands going to his throat in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Caligar let his arrow fly at the Khajiit, whilst the two Nords fired their crossbows at Besrin.

Azaren strode off, leaving Eyja behind. She had her own tasks to attend to, rest to catch up on, probably some hunting to do. His first objective was to visit what passed as the dining hall. The Children rarely kept thralls around specifically to feed upon, as he'd heard other covens favored, but they did tend to bottle and store blood and usually had more than enough to keep the Cavern's residents in good condition. Something like that was perfect for a time like this - a little blood would do wonders to clear his head, keep his wits from fraying, and he could do it all without much hassle. All that was necessary was to stroll in, grab a bottle off the rack, unseal it, and start sipping - and that was exactly what the elder did. The Cavern had been on the quieter side for a few weeks, right up until Varlin's new recruits had been allowed entrance.

As Azaren walked through it, he almost wished his home held more denizens--but at the same time, he recognized that getting careless about new recruits was exactly how problems like this could arise. Those who thought they knew better and were willing to cause trouble anywhere they saw fit just for the sake of a little fun or a little food were the exact kind of vampires he wanted to avoid inviting to join him on his ascent. In a Tamriel where all manner of vampire hunters prepared, organized, and united to slaughter their kind, they could hardly afford to be careless or let slip the places they slept.

He let such thoughts fall away as he took his first swig of blood. Feeding was an exhilarating feeling, just as it always was - even if tonight's meal was a little old, a little stale. Azaren continued taking gulps as he backtracked, took a right instead of a left, and headed into what passed for a storage chamber. If he was to hunt, he would need to outfit himself appropriately; the tunic and trousers he'd slept in would hardly do. Likewise, he passed over his usual garb: garish and flowing, they weren't the best fit for the fight he was most likely going to end up in. He was likely going up against four vampires of at least middling combative skill; age or panache would hardly help, either, and that meant this was a job for his leathers.

Enchanted so as to be slightly more durable than normal, the fine leather jacket and leggings he set down his bottle to pick up, dust off, and shrug into were at least a small bit more protective than that. They'd been a... gift from a passer-through, lightweight and effective when you required stealth and range of movement. Gloves, boots, and a mismatching scarf of bright cloth to cover his lower face completed his little outfit, made him look much more like an assassin than he might have liked - but that simply was what it was. He didn't bother picking up a weapon or recovering his sustenance. He'd had enough to drink; Eyja would happen upon it and probably finish it off. As for arming himself, Azaren wore a ring that supplemented his ability to recover his magical energy somewhat. Even if the sun was still high enough in the sky to sap him of his energy, he would be able to Bind all manner of weaponry as he needed. Carrying a material weapon would likely only slow him down somewhat.

So attired and so prepared, Azaren set off. He left the cave, headed westward at a steady, brisk walk. The sun's light was still enough to give him something of a headache and certainly would have made recovering an issue, but a brief glance told him all he really needed to know: it was sinking steadily below the mountains and would likely steadily become less of a hindrance as he continued to walk.

He'd been wandering long enough that the twilight had given way to night's embrace almost completely before a commotion ahead graced his ears. Good, he thought, immediately shifting into a lower stance and straining his senses as he crept forward. A man came into view, sprinting through the wilderness, and Azaren could have sworn he smelled fear.

The temptation to Bind a bow and put an arrow in the man was indeed a strong one--but that was also the exact kind of thing Azaren wanted to avoid. He was much, much too close to the Cavern to risk drawing any more attention. He let the man run, hid himself behind a tree until the crashing and thumping of an armored man was safely out of earshot--and then Azaren started prowling his way northward. He wasn't here to kill Redguards, strong though the temptation was. He was here to kill whatever the Redguard was running from.

The group of vampires all reloaded immediately after firing their first shot, each of them promptly letting a follow up shot fly, though they'd all miss as their remaining targets had managed to scramble behind the wagon first. The Nord brothers were in the process of reloading their crossbows when the Redguard suddenly made a break for it, though Caligar and Vaynia managed to get one more shot apiece off at him, at first believing he was perhaps launching a counterattack. Both of their shots missed however, if only barely. Before the pair could nock another arrow to try again however, they quickly realized the Redguard wasn't making to attack them, rather he was fleeing. If they weren't so focused on capturing the wagon and it's cargo, a couple of them may have broken off to go after him, fresh blood was fresh blood after all, but for now they'd turn their attention back to the Khajiit. Even if Vaynia hadn't seen her arrow strike the feline, the smell of blood in the air was enough to tell them all she'd been struck, and by this time the Nord brothers had shouldered their crossbows and drawn their melee weapons. With Caligar and Vaynia providing cover, the brothers scrambled down the outcropping and closed in on the wagon, eager to claim the prize and hopefully take the Khajiit alive if at all possible. While the loot in her wagon took priority, another warm body filled with fresh blood was a nice bonus prize.

Neither Nord was prepared for the daedra that materialized before them, both brothers stopping dead in their tracks as the Daedroth roared at them, eyes growing wide at the sight as they stumbled backwards in surprise. Alaric didn't stumble back far enough to avoid the charge that came nearly the second later however, for next thing he knew, the beast had swiped at him. Fortunately Alaric managed to bring his shield up enough to take the worst of the blow, but that didn't stop him from being knocked off his feet and into the rocks behind him. While Savari had certainly stolen the initiative from them, the vampires were quick to take it back. While none among them could boast that killing daedra was something they normally did, that didn't change the fact they were all veterans of combat, not to mention that, even with Alaric temporarily incapacitated, they still had the numbers advantage. Immediately Erik dove for cover when the beast launched a fireball his way, Caligar and Vaynia let their arrows fly, striking the beast in the chest near simultaneously, eliciting a pained roar from it. The pair wouldn't stop there however, and once Erik righted himself and backed off into a more open area, luring the daedra in with him, he'd lunge at it with his greatsword, Caligar and Vaynia meanwhile continuing to pump it full of arrows. Despite being clad in heavy armor and wielding a heavy blade, Erik proved surprisingly nimble, or at least nimble enough to duck and dodge most of the Daedroth's attacks. He ended up not being nimble enough to dodge the next charge the beast made however, for like Alaric it slammed into him with a righteous fury, knocking him clean off his feet and sending him crashing into the dirt.

By this time however, it was clear the see the beast was on it's last legs, and Vaynia promptly rushed in to strike the killing blow, tossing her bow aside before bringing her hands up. Anyone that had every dealt with a vampire would have recognized the Drain spell that erupted from her hands. The vampiric spell had an immediate effect on the wounded daedra, causing it to recoil and roar in pain. The creature took a few final token swipes at the Dunmer, but it was clear to see the fight was over, as the beast was already beginning to fade back to the realm from whence it came. Finally, the Daedroth fell to the ground, dead, before dissipating completely and allow silence to fall upon the area once more, save for the groans of the Nord brothers. By that time, Erik had gotten to his feet and regained his stamina, and went to render aid to Alaric, whom was also up but in a bit rougher shape.

"Let's hurry up and kill this fucking housecat before she summons something else!" Caligar exclaimed with a growl as he nocked another arrow and made to brush past Vaynia, intending on putting a shot right between the Khajiit's eyes. The Dunmer promptly stopped him as he tried to get past her however, her hand going to push against his chest. "Hold on Caligar, lets not be too hasty, it isn't every day we fight a foe that can summon daedra... Besides, you'd be bitching just as much if she didn't put up any fight at all." These words were enough to make the Argonian shut his mouth, though it was clear he didn't like her words, despite them being true. With Caligar standing by in case the Khajiit tried anything, Vaynia lowered her own bow and took a few steps forward before calling out. "Quite the talent you have with conjuration magick Khajiit, but after that little show I doubt you have much left in you! Surrender yourself and your goods now and you will be spared, I'd rather not spill perfectly good blood unless I have too." Of course Savari had little reason to trust the word of a vampire, but in her dire situation, further resistance would only result in her death.

---

Cara had closed to within half a mile when she became distinctly aware that something was wrong, very wrong. The sounds of a fight echoed from down the road, and a few moments later she'd spy something coming down the road. 'Someone' was more accurate actually, though it wasn't until the figure in the distance got a fair deal closer (quite quickly to her surprise, he was really hauling ass) that she saw him to be a Redguard. "Hey! What the hell is going on up there!" She'd demand as she began to run towards him, though the Redguard didn't respond. "Hey! HEY! Did you hear me?!" Cara yelled again as they quickly closed the distance to each other. Instead of coming to a stop however, the Redguard pushed right past her, hard enough to almost knock her over even, screaming 'Get the hell out of my way greenskin!' as he flew by. This got a growl out of the Orsimer, whom promptly turned to scream after him. "HEY! GET BACK HERE!" Her words fell on deaf ears however, for the Redguard didn't skip a beat as he continued to run down the road. With a frustrated huff, Cara turned her attention back to the commotion going on up the road. She didn't know what the hell was happening up there, but she was damn well going to find out. Donning her helmet and drawing her axe from her back, Cara started to run towards the sounds of the fight, though the twilight rapidly giving way to darkness didn't allow her to see much of anything.

It wasn't too long before Azaren realized the countryside had gone quiet--dead quiet, rather than the usual near-silence that was disturbed by the occasional animal or Azaren himself. That, he supposed, was both somewhat promising and fairly concerning: the quiet most likely meant he was on the right track, but it also probably meant that there was something happening up ahead. He paused briefly, adjusting the scarf around his neck. If there were other people ahead, it certainly wouldn't have done to risk outing himself as a vampire through sheer carelessness. He couldn't do much about his eyes, but drawing a few layers of the fabric up and over his mouth and nose would at least keep his fangs from being too noticeable.

Twisting his head and moving his jaw experimentally beneath what passed for a mask, Azaren continued moving northward at a run. Maybe he would have to invest in something a little better than a scarf. Concealing his nature wasn't something he did frequently, but a more convenient method certainly couldn't hurt--even if it was just something like your standard nightblade's garb, a simple hood and cowl--to have available for the next time something like this happened.

The vampire dropped into a crouch as he heard something moving ahead, fixed eyes on it just a moment later. Enhanced senses were just one of several perks his 'condition' afforded, not that it appeared that whoever it was was trying to conceal themselves too much. They were moving pretty quickly northward, though; Azaren was pretty sure he'd only managed to close the distance at all because he'd been running at a decent clip and hardly had any equipment to slow him. Hm. A well-meaning passer-by? With the direction they were running, the Dunmer would have thought it pretty difficult to imagine the armored individual hadn't seen the fleeing Redguard as well. Maybe trying to stay close would pay off. Stealth was hardly a strength of Azaren's, but neither was he terribly keen on revealing his position just yet.

(Super sorry for the delay!)

Much to Vaynia's delight, the Khajiit realized the true hopelessness of her situation, and the fear permeating the feline's tone as she stammered her surrender made a smile curl upon the vampire's lips. "Good girl..." she'd reply as the fur-covered woman put her weapons down before crawling out from behind the wagon, her face in the dirt and stained with tears. This was how Vaynia liked to see her foes... on their hands and knees and begging for mercy. It was a power-trip like no other, and it wouldn't have been out of line to say the Dunmer was downright addicted to it. A patronizing 'Awww...' sounded from the elf as she promptly dispelled the protection spells still on the woman, after which she'd crouch down and take hold of the Khajiit's chin, raising it so their eyes could meet. "Oh we intend to take it all my dear, but I'm afraid you'll be coming with us, I can't just let a fine prize like you walk away. I'll make you a deal though, agree to not summon any more of your little beasties, and I promise none of us here will feed on you. Of course I won't say the same for our master..., but it's up to him what will happen to you." None of the others looked particularly pleased when they overheard they wouldn't at least get to feed on the bitch that had caused them so much trouble, but they all knew better than to question Vaynia's decisions, in the end they knew it was better in the long run for them to just do as she instructed them too. In an instant, Vaynia's expression turned, her hand suddenly taking a rather tight grip on the Khajiit's throat, her eyes trying to bore holes through the feline's skull. "However, try to resist again, and I promise I will make your death very slow and very painful. Understand?" Assuming the Khajiit was smart enough to agree, Vaynia released her grip and stood back up. "Good. Caligar, care to relieve our guest of her armor and restrain her while I take a look at the spoils?" she'd say as she looked the Argonian's way, the reptilian smiling for what was probably the first time that night. "With pleasure..." he'd respond as he shouldered his bow and made his way over to them, Vaynia promptly leaving the Khajiit and going to look at her wagon and the goods within it.

"Why don't you save us both the trouble and take it off yourself, I won't be gentle if you make me do it." the lizard hissed to the feline as he came to tower over her, his arms crossed over his chest.  Fortunately the woman had the common sense to comply, though as she went about removing her armor, Caligar would occasionally 'encourage' her to do it a bit faster.  Once out of her armor, the Argonian took a few moments to pat her down, checking for any holdout weapons.  If he found any, he'd toss them aside where her armor lay in a pile.  "Put your arms behind your back." he'd then command as the reptilian pulled a length of rope from it's place on his belt.  Going behind the Khajiit, he'd cross one wrist over the other and expertly tie them together, going so far as to make the bonds uncomfortably tight.  Caligar then forced the girl to her knees before shoving her face first in the dirt, at which point he'd use the same rope to begin tying her ankles together after pulling the rope around her wrists as tight as he could towards her feet.  The end result was a very restrictive, uncomfortable hogtie with next to no slack in the rope.  With their captive properly secured, the Argonian took her by the scruff of her neck and hauled the Khajiit back up on her knees.  By now, Caligar had grown tired of the feline's constant begging and pleading, fortunately he had a means to silence their captive.  Producing a bit of cloth from his person, he'd stuff the material into her mouth before knotting it tightly behind her head.  With all that business taken care of, the stocky Argonian hoisted the hogtied feline up onto his shoulder before making his way over to Vaynia, whom had been taking stock of what all had been in the merchant's cart.  "Find anything good?" he'd inquire to the Dunmer as he came up to the cart, unceremoniously tossing the tied up Khajiit into the back of it.  The question brought a smile to Vaynia's lips, and the look in her eyes as they gleamed in the firelight told the reptilian the answer before she even opened her mouth.  "Easily our best haul since we've been out here.  Armor, weapons, and I'm betting there are even more goodies inside these lock-boxes.  This little forge is the most valuable thing by far though, the old man won't need to worry about buying or stealing armor and weapons if he can make them.  If this doesn't make him trust us enough to spill his secrets, nothing will."  Caligar's lips tightened at her last words, the Argonian's eyes going to look over their spoils.  "I just hope it's worth it, I don't like working my ass off for nothing."  Vaynia merely smiled at her colleagues concern, shrugging her shoulders indifferently.  "If he has no useful knowledge, we'll take what we've raided and go on our way, it wasn't like we were struggling before joining his little Coven."  This much was true, the small band had had quite the successful career before meeting Azaren.  Vaynia believed the older Dunmer, having been a vampire far longer than any of the rest of them, could impart a great deal of knowledge to help them further their own vampiric powers, and it was her hope to cozy up to him by bringing him a war chest full of goodies for him and his Coven.

Leaving the wagon, Vaynia turned her attention to the nearby Nord brothers, Erik finishing up tending to Alaric's wounds.  "You two ready to move out?"  A silent nod from each brother followed.  "Alright then." she'd go on to say.  "Caligar, Erik, you both climb in the back with our new friend, Alaric, you can ride up front with me, lets get back to camp and start getting everything loaded up to take back to the cave."  Without a word, the men did as told and went to climb onto the wagon while the Dunmer unhitched the horses and made to climb in the drivers seat.

---

As Cara closed in on the campsite, she'd duck behind some rocks on the opposite side of the road when she caught sight of several people.  In the glow of the firelight, the Orc could plainly see an Argonian tying up what looked to be a Khajiit before picking her up and tossing her into the back of a wagon, which a Dunmer woman seemed to be eyeballing, off to the side sat a pair of humans, one tending to the other from the looks of it.  Bandits, I knew it.  The Khajiit must have been a merchant or assistant or something.  Near the fire, Cara also spied another human laying motionless in a pool of blood, an arrow jutting out of his neck.  As much as the Orsimer wanted to rush in and help the Khajiit, she knew doing so would only get her killed, she was pretty damn good in a fight, but four on one was a losing proposition no matter which way you looked at it, so for the time being she elected to sit tight and stay out of sight of the bandits. 

After a few minutes, the small band put out the campfire and clambered up onto the wagon, the Dunmer taking the reins before getting the wagon moving.  Figuring they were taking their spoils back to wherever their hideout was, Cara quietly waited for them to pass before making to follow them.  The Orc was careful to keep a healthy distance from the bunch, as her heavy armor wasn't exactly the quietest thing to try and sneak in.  It was Cara's hope to find out just where their hideout was located, that way she could make haste back to Bruma and return with a half-dozen or so of her fellow guildmates and put this scum to the sword, or axe rather.

After traveling down the main road heading north for a little while, the Dunmer eventually steered the wagon off the road and through a clearing in the rocks, Cara following along quietly.