4E 201, Dimhollow Crypt
The Dragonslayer
Swinging his warhammer sideways, Gerron crushed the rotted ribcage of the draugr before him, bone fragments scattering across the crypt floor. The undead creature folded inward, only to be followed by another. Without missing a beat, Gerron pivoted and drove the haft of his hammer into the next's throat, the sound of vertebrae shattering echoing through the damp chamber.
"These things just don't stop coming," he growled, shouldering the corpse off with a grunt.
"They never do," Tolan replied, wiping his blade clean with a tattered cloth. His breath misted in the cold air of the crypt. "It's why most deem tombs like these are considered a fool's errand. Look around you."
Gerron did so and took a sweep of his surroundings.
The cavern they stood in was immense—dark, cavernous, and choked with the reek of rot and dust. Dozens of draugr lay strewn about, slain by Gerron and Tolan's collective effort. Others remained in their alcoves, still as death, yet Gerron knew that a single wrong step could awaken more.
Tolan gestured broadly. "What we've slain barely makes a tenth of what sleeps here. And sleep they shall—until some poor bastard dares step foot in this place again. They'll rise once more, fueled by whatever cursed magic binds them."
Gerron grunted. "A trap that resets itself, then."
"Exactly. Kill five, wake ten. Kill ten, wake twenty. It's a never ending loop that became the bane of many tomb raiders alike."
He nodded grimly, his thoughts shifting. 'Reminds me of the Dwemer Ruins', Gerron mused. 'Mechanical sentries still active centuries after their creators vanished…'
Then a frown tugged at his lips. 'Now that I think about it, how are Dwemer ruins so self- sustaining? Are the constructs capable of recreating themselves? Is something or someone building more to replenish their numbers?'
It wasn't an answer he liked not knowing. Still, that was a question for another day.
They pressed onward.
Eventually, they came upon a set of ancient stone doors. With a groan of age-old stone, the doors opened to reveal a crumbling balcony high above a dark underground lake. Most of the platform had eroded and collapsed over the years, leaving only a precarious path forward. But Gerron's eyes were drawn not to the drop or the ruin—but to the central island rising from the lake's still surface.
"By Stendarr…" Tolan whispered beside him. "What is this?"
Gerron narrowed his eyes, the Artificer's System flaring to life as glowing lines traced across the island in his vision. "Some kind of mechanism. A ritual site, maybe. No… wait—look at that pillar. That's a control obelisk."
He sent Bronze ahead to scout the terrain. Down below, a strange circular pattern lay etched into the stone like a buried sun. At its center stood a raised sarcophagus, encircled by a shallow trench and three braziers waiting to be lit or moved. The layout sang of ancient magic and even older secrets.
His Architect perk activated instinctively.
[Architect's Insight]
Puzzle Mechanism Detected. Rotational locking sequence linked to pedestal pressure plate. Activate the plate, align the braziers—platform will descend.
"Simple enough," Gerron muttered. "Pedestal on top, three braziers to align… Hold on."
He vaulted over a broken section of the railing and landed hard on the stone below. The echoes of his boots vanished into the silence of the chamber. Tolan followed, landing with less grace.
It took only moments to solve.
Each brazier was rotated and pushed into position, guided by ancient grooves in the floor. When all three locked into place, a deep rumble shook the cavern. The floor beneath the sarcophagus began to lower, grinding stone against stone until it came to a stop.
The silence that followed was thick with dread.
"Ready?" Tolan asked, weapon raised.
"As I'll ever be," Gerron replied. He shifted the Mercury Hammer to a combat-ready grip.
Together, they approached the now-revealed sarcophagus.
A click sounded—a mechanism unlocking.
The stone lid trembled, and with a sudden, unnatural force, it slid open. Dust billowed into the air, disturbed for the first time in likely centuries. Out of the sarcophagus rose a woman—no older than thirty by appearance, but pale as snow, who stumbled out and held her head in pain.
But it wasn't her figure that caused Gerron to pause, nor was it the blood red eyes and fangs that revealed her to be a vampire. No, it was the item that hung on her back, a clear and golden artifact that had the system flaring bright.
[Elder Scroll]
Artifacts of unknown origin and quantity, simultaneous archives of historic, past and future events. Some say they are older than the Aedra and Daedra themselves, others calling them fragments of creation that exist outside of time. Those untrained in the sight who reads an Elder Scroll shall forever risk themselves to insanity.
'By Zenithar and all the Divines beside him…' Gerron's eyes widened, his grip tightening on his hammer.
'What the fuck did we just stumble into?'
…
Serana, Daughter of Coldharbour
When she awoke, it was to the cold bite of air against her pale skin, and the oppressive silence of a long-forgotten tomb.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly, protesting the sudden brightness. Not that there was much light in the cavern—just a faint glow from braziers and... what looked like a mechanical bird circling above. But after the utter void of stasis, even that felt blinding.
Everything felt wrong. Her limbs, stiff and unresponsive, trembled as she shifted, forcing herself to rise from the sarcophagus. Her back ached, her tongue was dry, and her body was starved. 'Gods', she thought as she braced herself on the stone edge, 'how long was I asleep?'
She stumbled out with all the grace of a newborn fawn, knees nearly buckling before she found balance. She took a good look around, seeing the same jaded and dark cavern that her mother had hidden her in. Only this time, she wasn't alone.
Two men stood nearby, weapons drawn. The first wore robes of blue and brown, with the symbol of Stendarr glinting on his chest. His aura was filled with wary discipline and a tinge of divinity. A godly man, perhaps. His sword trembled just slightly in his grip. Fear? Or restraint?
The second was larger—much larger. Towering in full ebony armor, with a warhammer of black and bronze metal slung across his shoulder. His eyes weren't on her face. They were locked onto something behind her.
She didn't need to turn to know what it was.
The Elder Scroll.
'He knows what it is.'
That alone made Serana alert. But something distracted her, for he smelled oh so sweet. And that's when she realized how thirsty she really is.
The scent of blood—iron, heat, and vitality—rolled off both men like a feast, the latter more than the former. She pushed it down, for there were far more important matters to deal with.
"She's a vampire." the godly one said, voice tense. He stepped slightly in front of the larger man.
"Aye," the armored one replied. "But I doubt she's a normal one. That thing on her back is a damned Elder Scroll."
'So they weren't here for it.' Serana's gaze narrowed. That was… something. A flicker of relief stirred in her chest. If they had come seeking the Scroll, they'd likely have come with more numbers, and would have been far more aggressive.
Still, it doesn't mean she was out of trouble yet. She straightened her posture, summoning what poise she still possessed. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice hoarse but steady. "Who sent you here? How did you find me?"
"Not like we wanted to," the Vigilant said. "Forgive me, lady, but I find myself struggling to answer questions from a vampire."
Not exactly hostile. Just wary. That was something she could work with.
"Peace Tolan. There are much bigger things going on here than we initially believed." the armored one said, lifting his helm.
He had a strong, weathered face—blonde hair slightly matted from sweat, sharp cheekbones, and deep-set eyes of blue that didn't flinch when they met hers. She could smell the sweet blood on him and something else beneath. Power. Not magical, but more divine in nature.
"My name is Gerron. You are?"
She hesitated, weighing the moment. Then gave the truth. "...Serana."
"Lady Serana then, we mean you no harm." She detected no deception from his words. "Only if you could tell us what's going on here."
"Do forgive me, but I did just meet you." Serana let out a breath that eased the tension in her shoulders. "While I'm quite grateful you freed me from that prison, there are things I'd rather not speak of. Not yet."
"Fair enough." Gerron said with a sigh. "Though I'd ask what you plan to do now. As I said, a vampire buried with an Elder Scroll is far from normal. The fact that this is all happening the moment the dragons returned and the Daedra are spurning makes it all too much of a coincidence."
Dragons and Daedra? What the hell had the world turned into?
"Wait," Serana was surprised. "What year is it?"
"It is the year 201 of the Fourth Era."
'By the gods, it had been that long? What happened to mother? Or worse, what of her father?'
Dark things certainly moved in her absence. A small thought that believed her father was the cause of all this was swept away immediately. For all his power, not even her father was capable of commanding dragons and daedra to do his bidding.
Returning to him undoubtedly means going back to the politicking that had ruined their family in the first place. If this Gerron's words were true, it seems things were far worse than she had imagined.
Despite her wanting to go travel and see the world for herself, the Elder Scroll behind her back made her pause. She was in a new world filled with many forces that would undoubtedly covet the Scroll, a world she knew nothing about.
Truth be told, she wanted nothing to do with this thing behind her back. The Scroll had brought nothing but ruin to her life and the cause that broke her family apart. It was the catalyst that caused her mother to seal Serana away after all.
Having allies was paramount. Looking back at Gerron, despite the clear dubious look he gave the scroll, it was clear it was due to the sheer power the scroll contained rather than an ambition to covet it. He seemed cordial so far, and was obviously a powerful warrior judging by his smell and the clear presence he contained.
She was still weakened after the centuries of being sealed. If he wanted it, there was no doubt in her mind that he could forcibly take it from her right here and now.
But he didn't.
"Would it be possible for me to accompany you on your travels for the time being?"
Gerron blinked, then turned to Tolan who gave him a calculating look. "Sure. I guess the Vigilants would at least need to be informed of the current state of matters." His words made her tense subconsciously.
She looked into his eyes to determine the truth of his words and found no deceit. She allowed herself to relax. In any case, seeing how the world had changed after centuries would be entertaining.
And maybe… a way to stop her father, if it came to that.
She took a breath. "Then I'll come with you."
…
AN: And Serana takes the stage. Things would start to escalate from here on out. The dragons and the daedric cults will start making their moves.
Gerron and Tolan will bring Serana back to Carcette, who possesses a clear enough head to actually hear her out. The Vigilants are a lot more tolerant to vampires in general since they're not an existence that's meant to hunt down and purge them, unlike the Dawnguard who are a renowned order of vampire hunters.
Again, I don't claim to be an expert on Skyrim lore so my apologies if I did anything that seems wildly out of character.
If you like the story, please help me out by commenting and reviewing. It helps a lot with motivation.
As always, more chapters are available on my Pat_reon. Chapter 30 should be available by the time this chapter was posted. Just look up my name and you'll find me.
Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Cheers!