(Note- I' playing fast and loose with vampire canon because it's a bit badly defined, and because of the differences in vampires between Dawnguard and the vanilla game. Also I use a mod called Better Vampires. The vampirism in this story is cobbled together out of vanilla skyrim/dawnguard lore + better vampires gameplay + conjecture)
His musing were broken by someone pounding on the door.
Panic seized him for a moment, and predatory instincts almost had him seizing his sword and leaping out of bed. Twice, the Vigilants of Stendarr had tracked him to Solitude. Both times they had been dealt with without drawing the attention of the populace, but that was only by luck. The Vigilant's vampire hunters were solitary and arrogant, not the sort to rally cityfolk against the vampires in their midst. Solitary hunters. That was the only reason Corrado had survived their attacks and remained undetected.
Rationality imposed itself upon his mind, forcing out the notion that another Vigilant had tracked him down. The Vigilants of Stendarr did not knock, not if they were outside the dwelling place of monstrosities.
Jenassa climbed to her feet, her hands reaching down to brush over the hilts of her twin swords. "Pretend to sleep," she murmured.
Corrado, seeing the wisdom in her words, lay back down and closed his eyes. For the most part, he was lucky in terms of passing for mortal. His dark hair and Imperial coloring gave his red eyes a brown cast,and the scars on his face deflected attention from the sharpness of his features. But nothing could hide the tell-tale glow of a starving vampire's eyes.
Jenassa had opened the door, and the smell of cooking meet and woodsmoke drifted up from the main room of the Winking Skeever, mingled with the chatter of the tavern's evening crowd. Underlaying this all, the potent aura of life met Corrado's senses; the beat of two dozen hearts, pumping warmth and life through soft mortal bodies. He needed it. He needed it, or he would die just as surely as a legionnaire in the desert.
He tried to push this notion away. Starvation felt the same, but didn't effect vampires the way it did humans. He had never heard of a vampire starving to death, and many stories contained descriptions of the horrors wrought by accidentally releasing ancient, hungry vampires.
The need was still there, however, desperate and demanding. Perhaps it was a vestigial instinct of the human body; suddenly finding food and water unnecessary, the survival instinct was transferred to the only thing that continued to fuel it. He ground his teeth together, trying to will it to dispel. If he was going to continue and to join the Legion once more, he had to be able to contain the hunger.
Voices drifted over him from the doorway. He tried to focus on the words, to decipher what they meant, but the syllables refused to coalesce into anything meaningful. He recognized the low tone, masculine tone making inquiries of Jenassa, but the face would not come to mind anymore than the words would.
Jenassa said something reluctant, and the door creaked open further as two pairs of footsteps made their way over to the bed. Corrado lay perfectly still, then reminded himself to breathe. He could smell the mortals beside him, and though their shared battles had taken off the edge of his hunger in regards to Jenassa- she was a mortal, but also a predator, his instincts told him- he had never seen the man fight. Some amicable feeling towards him was drifting somewhere along with his memory of the man’s name, but all of that was lost to him right then.
He was warm and mortal and prey.
Corrado was an instant away from leaping from the bed and clamping his jaws around the mortal’s neck, draining him of all that sweet life, all that blood, to finally soothe the ache.
Partnership 2.1/3
The vampirism in this story is cobbled together out of vanilla skyrim/dawnguard lore + better vampires gameplay + conjecture)
His musing were broken by someone pounding on the door.
Panic seized him for a moment, and predatory instincts almost had him seizing his sword and leaping out of bed. Twice, the Vigilants of Stendarr had tracked him to Solitude. Both times they had been dealt with without drawing the attention of the populace, but that was only by luck. The Vigilant's vampire hunters were solitary and arrogant, not the sort to rally cityfolk against the vampires in their midst. Solitary hunters. That was the only reason Corrado had survived their attacks and remained undetected.
Rationality imposed itself upon his mind, forcing out the notion that another Vigilant had tracked him down. The Vigilants of Stendarr did not knock, not if they were outside the dwelling place of monstrosities.
Jenassa climbed to her feet, her hands reaching down to brush over the hilts of her twin swords. "Pretend to sleep," she murmured.
Corrado, seeing the wisdom in her words, lay back down and closed his eyes. For the most part, he was lucky in terms of passing for mortal. His dark hair and Imperial coloring gave his red eyes a brown cast,and the scars on his face deflected attention from the sharpness of his features. But nothing could hide the tell-tale glow of a starving vampire's eyes.
Jenassa had opened the door, and the smell of cooking meet and woodsmoke drifted up from the main room of the Winking Skeever, mingled with the chatter of the tavern's evening crowd. Underlaying this all, the potent aura of life met Corrado's senses; the beat of two dozen hearts, pumping warmth and life through soft mortal bodies. He needed it. He needed it, or he would die just as surely as a legionnaire in the desert.
He tried to push this notion away. Starvation felt the same, but didn't effect vampires the way it did humans. He had never heard of a vampire starving to death, and many stories contained descriptions of the horrors wrought by accidentally releasing ancient, hungry vampires.
The need was still there, however, desperate and demanding. Perhaps it was a vestigial instinct of the human body; suddenly finding food and water unnecessary, the survival instinct was transferred to the only thing that continued to fuel it.
He ground his teeth together, trying to will it to dispel. If he was going to continue and to join the Legion once more, he had to be able to contain the hunger.
Voices drifted over him from the doorway. He tried to focus on the words, to decipher what they meant, but the syllables refused to coalesce into anything meaningful. He recognized the low tone, masculine tone making inquiries of Jenassa, but the face would not come to mind anymore than the words would.
Jenassa said something reluctant, and the door creaked open further as two pairs of footsteps made their way over to the bed. Corrado lay perfectly still, then reminded himself to breathe. He could smell the mortals beside him, and though their shared battles had taken off the edge of his hunger in regards to Jenassa- she was a mortal, but also a predator, his instincts told him- he had never seen the man fight. Some amicable feeling towards him was drifting somewhere along with his memory of the man’s name, but all of that was lost to him right then.
He was warm and mortal and prey.
Corrado was an instant away from leaping from the bed and clamping his jaws around the mortal’s neck, draining him of all that sweet life, all that blood, to finally soothe the ache.
Then the man said his name.
“Corrado.”