Scarlet Scale Ch. 006

After Lydia and I sought out Klimmek, we returned him his satchel. It was the late evening now, and all of Ivarstead was in a tense edginess. Surprisingly, there was a couple more wailing noises from the barrow last night, and the guards were all on alert. It reminded me about Wilhelm's request for us to check out the ruins, but I was so tired after the hike back down that all I wanted to do was rest.

"Ooooohhhhhoooohh!!"

Obviously, the ghosts had other ideas. Lydia, I was surprised, had a sword that had an enchantment for scaring ghosts and other low-level undead. Before long we had gotten to a large, crumbling hallway, with shelves cut from the stone, and made with masonry, for the laying of bodies of the long-dead.

When we reached the end, lo and behold, there WAS a ghost! At least he looked the part, but I was SURE there was something... off about him, and he seemed completely unaffected by the enchantment on Lydia's sword. He was simply standing behind a portcullis gate, glaring at us.

"Leave! Leave! Leave!" It was all he said, then he calmly walked off as if we were nothing important.

Ghost or not, I was very determined figure out what was going on, at least if only to make sure that I could sleep. The other side opposite of the portcullis revealed a set of four levers. Now, proficient as I was in my Alteration magic, my Detect Dead, and Detect Life spells were also refined enough to detect the recent passage of them, the dead or living. I expected the ghost to have used the levers before we came down, but when I tried that spell, I only saw the bodies of the actually dead, not the ghost, or his "passed-by" essence.

"Strange..." I commented, then tried my Detect Life spell. Lydia and I both showed up just fine. And another, along with the echoes of life essence.

"A-ha..." I grinned. "Whoever they are, they're not a ghost, it's someone living, tricking us somehow. I can also see what levers he pulled."

After I did so, the portcullis raised back up. Then we crept through a short tunnel, and as we rounded the corner, Lydia suddenly lunged in with her sword, then shield bashed him for good measure. As he bled out on the floor, I dashed in.

"Lydia!" I yelled. "Don't do that! What if he had a powerful spell charged and ready?! Or a bow with a poisoned arrow?!"

"I... I'm sorry my Lady, I felt the best way to defeat him was to take him by surprise."

"Well, that was effective here, and he's dead, while we're not, so it is something. Let's look through his things, see what he was doing here."

In a few minutes, we found a journal in a rucksack. He wrote about how he was some adventurer named Wyndelius, looking for this place's treasure, and was using some of kind of potion to make himself look like a ghost, to keep others from prying, from the sound of it. Ha. It seemed like an amusing prank, though from the later entries, it seemed that something in the potions was also causing the fool to go insane. He was starting to think he actually WAS a ghost of one of the ancient dead that were buried here.

I picked up one of the potions he had left, and his journal.

"Well," I commented, "I guess that this settles the whole thing of what was 'haunting' the barrow. We go take this stuff back up to Wilhelm, get our reward, or..."

Lydia rolled her eyes.

"I take it you have a better idea?"

"Why Lydia, I'm shocked, flabbergasted, nay, utterly... and COMPLETELY... pleased to hear you it up that way. Yes, of course I do! See, that Wilhelm fellow is absolutely convinced that this place is haunted, so although he's half expecting us back, he's also half expecting us to be dead, right?"

"Right..." Lydia frowned, she clearly didn't follow.

"So why not let him think we're dead?"

"What?!"

"Yes!" I insisted "At least for the night. I almost felt 'dead' tired from hiking until this fool," I kicked the elf's body "goes and wakes us. So let's just go to sleep here, or... even BETTER..."

"Oh... oh... oh... yes, yes, yes!" Lydia was gasping with pleasure on the dead elf's bedroll. We had already moved his body into the crumbling hall first. "Oh my Thane!! Oh harder please!! I've never... ohhhhh... met someone like... ahhhhhhh... ohhhh THANE!!"

My enchanted toy had her cumming for the third time, as we ground against each other. I began to pause, slowing down in my rhythm, while Lydia continued suckling my argonian milk. After I was sure that she would not be so dazed with pleasure, I asked her how she felt, about having wild, passionate, lustful sex on the slightly-bloodstained bedroll of a man that we had just killed, and while in some thousand-or-so-year-old ruin where the ancient dead of her people were laid to rest.

"How do you feel about it, Lydia?"

She paused to respond.

"Feel?" Her eyes were full of desire, lust, and love. "I... I..."

It seemed to crystallize in her, a new feeling.

"I feel excited, turned-on, I... feel... HORNY..."

"So," I continued, as she went back to suckling my olive green cream, "I know what you said before... about that vampire we found in the Bannered Mare. I want to ask you now, do you... do remember what I said about her?"

Lydia nodded, but continued with greedily drinking at my teat.

"Do you... see my point about her?"

Lydia nodded again. Good, good.

"You agree now," I persisted, "that vampirism itself isn't evil, but could easily be used for evil?"

Again Lydia nodded, her hips starting to buck just a bit faster. Excellent.

"And you see now, as I do, that vampirism can also be used for good?"

Lydia started tugging more fiercely at my scaly nipple, and thrusting even harder. I took that as a 'YES.'

"If I chose to..." I took a deep breath, plunging forward with my words "to... become a vampire on my own, then you will still be my ally, and lover?"

Lydia stopped suckling, and looked me in my eyes.

"I will."

I smiled, and we continued in our throes of pleasure. I began to plan new ideas and efforts. I'd want to collect more information about what 'unlife' in Skyrim as an argonian vampire would be like, and find a secure place to call my lair, at least until I had enough to buy a regular house. It also seemed like I would already have a willing minion in Lydia, we both loved each other, and although she had sounded like she had been sexually active before meeting me, perhaps quite a bit, it seemed like she had been a "pure-hearted" woman before. I had nothing against that, indeed, the world was better for such people, but I wanted Lydia to openly accept the idea of vampirism first, to "corrupt" her into seeing it as the true tool of power that it was, to accept it for that, and to see that like any tool, as much as it could be used for evil, it could also be used for good.

We continued bucking our hips against each other, and I was starting to use my natural argonian teeth a bit more liberally on her neck as I clamped my hickey in place. She also, was doing the same on my neck. We kept going at it, while climaxing, steady trickle.

I thrust, she thrust. The toy between us transmitting all the feeling a real cock for us both. Again, I was beginning to feel different. I felt every second, every fraction of a second, every inch of Lydia, from the feelings between our legs, to her furious suckling of my milk. Time... was... moving... slower...

The sensations of touch, of taste, of sight, of smell, of hearing Lydia's ever-present moaning, all these things, began to blend into one. All of time. All of me. All of Lydia. Were one. Cumming. Suckling. Kissing. Sliding. Caressing. Stroking.

After some countless time, I spoke up again, even as we thrust back and forth between our scissoring.

"How... ah... ah... how skilled are... you in... ohhh... in magic?"

"Ooooh... Thane... only moderately so... in... in healing..."

"I'm... going... ahhhh... going to try... ah... mmmm... try teaching you my... ohhh... Lydia! Oh yes... my Pussyripple Spell... ahhh..."

"Ohhh... th-thank you... my... Thaaaane!!"

We were climaxing in unison again. Once it ebbed, I continued.

"Concentrate... on your slit... imagin- ohhh... Lydia, you're such a great fuck... imagine its... tissue, the flesh... inside... if... ahhh... you could think... ah... ah... ah... of... it possessing... ohhhhh... a... pattern... oohhh... of 'lines' of... ohhh... energy... energy that you... can... bend to your... ahhhhhhh... Lydia!! Oh yes!! Yes!! Yes!! Yes!!"

I basked in my latest climax, and waited...

"...bend the... ohhh... lines... to your will... ohhhh... fuck yessss... imagine... altering, bending their... ahhh... ahhh... ahhh... ahhh..."

I think she was just starting to get it. I swear, my 'penis' was starting feel somewhat 'tickled' more.

We tried as many positions as possible, 69, oral, me pushing her from behind, her pushing me from behind, playing around with rubbing our nipples into each other's pussies, I even slid my tail into her slit for a little while. We wanted to do EVERYthing. After having tried, and retried every possible position and idea we could think of, we began to sleep, my toy never really leaving our soaking cunts, even as we slept in the barrow among the ancient dead.

We stirred after a while, and kissed, while rubbing each other casually, then began dressing. I didn't see light from the surface, nor did we have an hourglass, but... somehow, I simply "knew" it was morning now, but I didn't know the exact time yet. We walked back, proudly into the town, and carrying all of that elf's loot. It was only fair after all, if the stupid fool was frightening the town because of his greed, then Ivarstead should at least be able to decide what they would do with his belongings.

When we walked into Vilemyr, Wilhem jumped a bit at seeing us.

"No," I said with quite a bit of amusement, "we're not dead. The 'ghost' is now, though. Here's his journal."

I tossed him the last writings of a deranged idiot, and he left the fireplace he was tending. We walked over to a table, took out a couple bottles of mead, some jerky and bread. I also pulled out my own journal to mark Wilhelm's request as finished, then started discussing with Lydia about this "Shriekwind." I expected to have to fight the vampires, because even if I told them I didn't want to fight, that I actually WANTED to be turned, most of the ones that dwelt outside of settlements preferred not to deal with a rival who might take control of whatever they had to begin with. The only other two things that they might do for a willing subject, is turning us into compliant thralls accepting their control, or draining one, maybe both of us of ALL our blood, and obviously I couldn't have either of those happening.

"Uh, ladies." Wilhem was saying as he was starting to walk over. "I finished reading a little of journal, he had tricked us from the beginning... I can't believe I could have been so stupid!! To think that scumspawn had us all fooled this whole time!"

He sighed, and calmed himself down.

"Look, I don't have much to express my thanks, but I found this buried under a rock outside the barrow, it was after a heavy rain."

He handed me a claw-shaped artifact of some kind, it gleamed like a whitish silver, but wasn't corroding to black anywhere on it, and inlaid as the claw's nails, were perfect sapphires. It... wait a second! When I read that dumb fool's journal, it mentioned something about a claw that matched this! He was needing to unlock a door... and there was that claw for Bleakfalls... I think... hmm... I was going to have revisit that barrow later. I was also surprised, for more than just recognizing what the elf was after. Sure that killing off that stupid trickster, and stopping his terrorizing of the town wasn't really worth all the value of such an artifact. But was I going to decline it?

"Thank you," I smiled as I took his claw to stow in my pack, "it's definitely appreciated. I'm expecting to head into Falkreath forest next, where is the road for it?"

"Ah, go south, then take the right. I goes up into a pass between the Throat and the Jeralls, so it's very cold. After the pass, you should find yourself getting into the forest right away. Where were you headed?"

I was reluctant to tell him about Shriekwind, I felt like I had a new plan for Skyrim, and I didn't want to tell a stranger about it, even if he seemed like a nice enough man.

"Well," I said "I believe there's some business for me and my friend here in their capitol, but I think I might try using my talents in swimming to collect some fish on the way, I understand there's a nice lake."

"Alright, the most direct route for that should be taking the right at Helgen. Letter carriers, and others traveling the roads have said that some bandits took over the remains. The Jarl hasn't sent any soldiers to wipe them out, because he's been wanting to support the Imperials' army, helping them shore up defense against the Stormcloaks. There's also been a story or two of necromancers trying practice horrible rituals on the dead. I'm not saying don't go, but just watch yourselves, alright?"

"Yes." I assured him. "We'll stay alert. There shouldn't be too much trouble if we stick to the roads, and I am a very competent fighter. Thank you for the concern though."

We finished our breakfast, and checked the map for the route he suggested. There was Falkreath's capitol to the south of what looked like two entrances for Shriekwind. From what it suggested, the one closer to Falkreath was hidden in snowy crag like the way Bleakfalls was. The northern entrance looked more promising, being closer to the lake's road and free of snow. From what I understood of vampires, they often cast a spell that allowed them to directly absorb their opponent's life energy, and while doing this, the spell also cast tiny crystalline magic spears of the vampire's own blood, being thrown into their target. This gave the target a strong chance of contracting sanguinare vampiris, one of several diseases that progresses into vampirism, but more immediately drained the target's health by a whole quarter of what it used to be, this coupled with the draining of the vampire's absorption, would quickly reduce an unprepared person to a corpse.

I expected the best way to survive this, while also keeping the disease from a hostile vampire would be to purchase a potion that could temporarily, significantly increase my health's regeneration, and also a few instant recovery types. It might need the skill of an exceptionally gifted alchemist, especially if we might face a very long-lived vampire.

"Lydia," I asked, as we started down the road, "what can you tell me about Falkreath? Are there any good potion brewers there?"

"Yes. The city is known for having the favorite cemetery of many warriors who wish to be buried there, but that ah... 'special' attention also appealed to a redguard, who Farengar, and Whiterun's healer, Danica Pure-Spring preferred to get many exotic healing ingredients from. Even Whiterun's alchemist, Arcadia considers Zaria to be better than she is. Why do you ask?"

"I think," I replied "that in order for us to fight against hostile vampires, we're going to need some powerful health recovery potions. I don't want you to turn yet though, at least not until after we have enough to purchase a real house. I expect that for the time after I turn, we're going to need a lair like the typical feral vampires have, and that means I'll need you to have full strength in daylight. I know vampires can tolerate it, but the day does weaken them."

"Yes my Thane. I am not just sworn to follow your lead as your housecarl, but I also feel MORE than that. I will happily remain mortal for you, even to let you feed on me every so often."

I thought that was very sweet of her, and we kissed, tasting each other's mouths with delight.

Eventually we found the road going higher in elevation, and as Wilhem said, we soon found a boundary where the birch forest was giving way to snow-frosted pines. Lydia and I took a moment to pull our fur pelts over our armor, pulling out the Alteration enchanted "skin staves" that Belethor sold me. As he had implied in his joke about a "sister," I was certain that he'd do just about anything to get a customer's gold. I had briefly wondered then if that might even include sexual experiences, but somehow I just didn't feel like I wanted to with him. But he was right about the staves helping decrease the effect the weather had on us, so I was satisfied with that.

By midday, we had crested the height of the pass, and could see the deep green of the pine below, spread out before us.