I'm Really Not the Dragonborn.

The journey to Dimhollow Crypt was a grim trek through desolate landscapes, past skeletal trees and windswept plains. The air bit with a frigid edge as they approached the foothills east of Stonehills, a scattering of miner's shacks east of Morthal. The crypt's entrance, almost swallowed by the rocky hillside, was marked only by a single, flickering torch at the base of a stone staircase. A rickety wooden bridge spanned a shallow ravine, leading to the heavy stone doorway where a brazier stubbornly defied the encroaching darkness.

Loki and Harin exchanged a silent glance, the air around the entrance heavy with a palpable sense of unease. Loki shifted his shoulders, feeling the familiar coil of his muscles beneath his tunic. He relied on his deadly physical prowess, a honed combination of speed, agility, and raw power. Harin, in contrast, checked the straps of her pack, a veritable armory of daggers, a light hunting bow, a quiver bristling with specialized arrows, and throwing axes tucked into loops at her belt.

"Ready?" Loki murmured, his voice low.

Harin met his gaze, a flicker of excitement in her eyes. "Let's get this over with."

The crypt's entrance opened into a narrow, descending tunnel, the air immediately turning cold and damp. The tunnel widened into a medium-sized cavern, the echoing rush of water filling the space. An underground river cascaded down the cavern walls in several small waterfalls, creating a fine mist.

As they moved deeper, the low murmur of voices reached them. Loki signaled Harin to stay close, his senses heightened. They approached cautiously, finding three bodies near the riverbank, two vampires and a Vigilant of Stendarr, who had clearly slain the vampires before succumbing to his own wounds. A death hound, its fur matted with gore, stood guard, a low growl rumbling in its chest.

Loki moved with blinding speed, a blur of motion. He closed the distance to the death hound, a precise strike of his hand crushing its windpipe. The hound collapsed silently. 

"Vampires," he murmured, examining the fallen creatures. "And a Vigilant. This place has seen recent conflict."

Harin, already nocking an arrow to her bow, scanned the cavern. 

"Efficient," she commented, a slight smirk playing on her lips. "Though I was hoping for a bit more of a challenge." She pointed to a snowberry bush near the river. "At least something living still manages here."

To the northeast, a heavy iron gate blocked further passage. To the southwest, a small stone tower stood against the cavern wall. Loki approached the tower, finding a lit torch on a platform at the bottom of a winding staircase. He took it.

At the top of the stairs, a small window offered a direct view of the northeast gate. Beside the window, a pull chain hung against the stone. 

"That's our way forward," Loki indicated. He gave the chain a sharp tug. With a protesting groan of ancient metal, the gate swung inward.

They passed through the gate into a natural corridor, following the stream. It led to a flight of worn stone steps. At the top, a vampire stood near a small graveyard.

As they approached, three skeletons clawed their way out of the earth. Harin unleashed a flurry of arrows, felling two before they could fully rise. Loki closed the distance to the remaining skeleton, his fists was like a whirlwind, but consist of precise strikes. As the skeleton crumbled, Harin swiftly moved in, stomping her foot, crushing the skull. 

"Just to be sure," she said, dusting her boots.

They continued along the western ledge, past glowing mushrooms. Another gate blocked their path, controlled by a lever. Harin spotted it first. 

"There," she pointed. Loki pulled the lever, and the gate groaned open.

Beyond, they found two draugr battling a vampire and a death hound. The draugr had managed to wound the vampire and kill the hound. Loki moved with brutal efficiency, disabling the remaining draugr with precise strikes. As the draugr fell, Harin darted forward, her dagger flashing, separating its head from its body. She then turned her attention to the weakened vampire, swiftly decapitating it as well. 

"Double tap," she said with a grim smile. "Can't be too careful with these things."

Four gated tunnels led from the room. Loki examined the area. "Looks like we have some choices," he said. "And perhaps some traps."

He cautiously pulled the chain of the east gate. A draugr burst from a nearby coffin. Harin loosed an arrow, hitting it squarely in the chest, staggering it. Loki then finished it with a powerful blow, and Harin swiftly decapitated it. 

"Show off," she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

Loki simply shrugged, a slight smile playing on his lips. He then turned to the north gate. A pedestal at the end of the tunnel held two glowing potions. More potions were tucked into alcoves. 

"A trap." Loki murmured, noting the faint tripwires stretched across the floor. They simply bypassed it.

The second gate on the west wall was their intended path. Loki pulled the chain.

The next room was partially flooded. Three skeletons rose from the murky water. Harin switched to throwing axes, taking down two with brutal accuracy. Loki dispatched the last one after Harin swift throwing. 

"Getting good at this," she said, admiring her handiwork.

"Practice makes perfect," Loki replied.

As they ascended the hill, a lurking vampire emerged. Loki engaged it, his movements fluid and deadly. As the vampire stumbled, Harin was there, her dagger flashing, ending its existence.

They continued through a northwest door, the crypt becoming more structured. The scattered remains of frostbite spiders hinted at another vampire. They found it in a small alcove. Loki dispatched it quickly, a silent and efficient kill. Harin, as always, made sure it stayed down.

In the next room, another vampire and death hound awaited. Harin used a fire arrow to distract the hound, giving Loki the opening he needed to engage the vampire. As Loki brought the vampire down, Harin swiftly took its head. 

"That's all of them, right?" she asked, wiping her dagger clean.

"For this section, at least," Loki replied, his gaze sweeping the room.

The southeast exit led to a natural ledge overlooking the flooded graveyard. Another large gate blocked their path, with a vampire on the other side engaged in a brief struggle with a wounded frostbite spider. The spider managed a desperate bite on the vampire's leg, but the vampire quickly crushed it under its boot.

"Looks like he's dealt with our eight-legged friend," Harin observed, nocking an arrow just in case.

Loki approached the gate carefully. He could see the vampire was slightly limping from the spider's bite, but otherwise seemed unharmed. "Let's not give him a chance to recover," he murmured.

Loki pulled the lever beside the gate. As the gate groaned open, Loki lunged forward, his speed catching the vampire off guard. He struck with brutal force, a precise blow to the chest sending the vampire staggering back. Before it could recover, Harin darted past Loki, her dagger a blur of motion. The vampire's head hit the tiled floor with a sickening thud. 

"And that's that," she said, wiping her blade on the vampire's robes.

The elegant room beyond was revealed, its octagonal and diamond tiles gleaming faintly in the torchlight. A wooden door in the southern wall marked their final destination: Dimhollow Cavern. They were finally there.

They stepped from the damp tunnel onto a wide balcony overlooking a vast cavern. The air here was still and frigid, raising gooseflesh on Harin's arms beneath her tunic. Below, the cavern stretched into shadow, an immense, echoing space where the faintest sounds were amplified.

"Careful," Loki murmured, his hand raised, a gesture to Harin. His eyes swept across the balcony, noting the crumbling stonework and the precarious drop to the cavern floor.

As they paused, a conversation, sharp and distinct despite the distance, drifted up from below. The guttural snarls and hisses confirmed Loki's suspicions: vampires.

"I'll never tell you anything, vampire," a voice rasped, each word strained with pain. It was a man's voice, yet the defiance in it held a brittle edge. "My oath to Stendarr… stronger…"

"I believe you, Vigilant," a smooth, chilling voice replied. "And I don't think you even know what you've found here."

The metallic scrape of steel against leather, followed by a wet, sickening thud, punctuated the air.

"Peace at last…" the defiant voice breathed, then abruptly cut off.

"So go and meet your beloved Stendarr," the chilling voice sneered, the words laced with cruel satisfaction.

The distinct sound of a blade being sheathed echoed through the cavern. Loki and Harin exchanged a grim glance. They were too late.

"Are you sure that was wise, Lokil?" another vampire questioned, his voice laced with concern. "He still might have…"

"He knew nothing," Lokil's sharp interruption cut him off. "He served his purpose by leading us to this place. Now it is up to us to bring Harkon the prize. We will not return without it. Vingalmo and Orthjolf will make way for me after this." 

"Yes, of course, Lokil," the other vampire stammered, his tone suddenly subservient. "Do not forget who brought you news of the Vigilants' discovery."

"I never forget," Lokil's voice dropped to a low, dangerous growl, "who my friends are… or my enemies."

Loki and Harin moved to the balcony's edge, peering down into the cavern. Lokil, a towering Nord Vampire with eyes that burned like embers in the dim light, stood over a crumpled figure. The man's hands, bound with crude iron cuffs that chafed against his skin, lay outstretched, stained crimson. An Amulet of Stendarr, its silver surface dulled by blood, rested in the spreading pool. 

A shorter, wiry vampire stood at Lokil's shoulder, nervously picking at a loose thread on his dark tunic. A hunched, almost simian thrall, its skin a sickly grey, shuffled in the shadows, its eyes glowing an unnatural red.

They descended the crumbling stone stairs, their footsteps muffled by the soft earth that had accumulated on the worn treads. They emerged into the cavern below, directly confronting the vampires and their thrall. Lokil's head snapped up, his crimson eyes fixing on them with immediate hostility. A snarl twisted his lips, revealing elongated canines.

"Intruders!" he hissed, drawing a wickedly curved sword that gleamed in the torchlight. The other vampire mirrored his action, drawing a long, slender rapier. The thrall emitted a low, guttural growl, flexing its clawed hands.

The fight erupted. Loki moved with blinding speed, a blur of motion, his fists and feet moves with precise strikes aimed at Lokil. Harin, equally swift, weaved around the larger combatants, her daggers flashing like silver lightning, drawing thin red lines across the other vampire's exposed skin and the thrall's gnarled limbs.

Loki's blows were brutal and efficient, forcing Lokil onto the defensive. The vampire's face contorted in a mask of rage and frustration as he struggled to parry Loki's relentless assault. As Lokil stumbled back, momentarily off balance, Harin seized the opportunity. She lunged, her dagger slicing through the air in a swift arc, severing Lokil's head. The head bounced once on the stone floor, coming to rest near the crumpled figure's outstretched hand.

The other vampire's eyes widened in disbelief as he witnessed his leader's demise. He let out a frustrated snarl, his grip tightening on his rapier. Before he could react, Loki's fist connected with his jaw with a sickening crunch, sending him crashing to the stone. Harin, with practiced efficiency, swiftly decapitated him as he lay stunned. The thrall, now leaderless and confused, whimpered and cowered, offering no resistance as Loki dispatched it with a swift, brutal strike.

With the cavern cleared, Loki and Harin crossed a narrow stone bridge to a small island in the center. The island was dominated by a circular platform, etched with intricate symbols that seemed to writhe and shift in the flickering torchlight. Several unlit braziers stood at intervals around the platform's perimeter. In the center, a tall, imposing monolith rose towards the cavern ceiling.

"Looks like a puzzle," Harin observed, running her fingers over the cool, smooth surface of the symbols.

Loki noticed a small, circular button set into the platform's center. He pressed it. With a soft hiss, a series of purple flames erupted from hidden vents, igniting some of the braziers in a seemingly random pattern.

"There's a pattern here," Loki said, his brow furrowed as he studied the lit braziers. He traced the lines etched into the stone, noticing that some of the braziers were set on tracks, allowing them to be moved. "We need to rearrange these."

They worked in tandem, carefully sliding the braziers along their tracks, testing different combinations. After several minutes of trial and error, a flicker of understanding crossed Loki's face. The flames needed to form a complete, unbroken circle around the platform.

As they pushed the final brazier into place, a low rumble echoed through the cavern, and the circular section of the platform beneath the monolith began to descend. The stone ground with a grating sound as it lowered, revealing the monolith's full height.

Loki approached the monolith cautiously. It was covered in intricate carvings that seemed to shift and writhe in the dim light. A faint, internal luminescence pulsed beneath the stone's surface. He reached out and touched the cool, smooth surface.

The moment Loki's fingers brushed the monolith, a vibration pulsed through it, resonating deep within his bones. A blinding flash of light erupted, forcing both him and Harin to shield their eyes. When their vision cleared, a woman laid before them, bathed in the monolith's fading ethereal glow. She was stunning. High cheekbones accentuated a face of delicate beauty, framed by a cascade of dark hair that flowed around her shoulders like liquid night. Her eyes, the color of polished amethysts, held a depth that spoke of centuries lived, a subtle hint of cruelty flickering beneath their captivating surface.

Loki stood transfixed. The woman was even more breathtaking in person than he remembered. Fragmented memories, echoes of another life of his, surfaced. 

"Serana…" he thought, the name a silent whisper in his mind. "The game truly doesn't do you justice."

Harin, noticing Loki's stunned silence and the almost reverent look in his eyes, nudged him sharply in the ribs with her elbow. The unexpected contact snapped him back to the present. He blinked, refocusing on the woman before them.

As the monolith's light dimmed further, cracks spiderwebbed across the stone casing surrounding her. With a final, low groan, the sarcophagus stood, and Serana stumbled forward, blinking against the sudden influx of light. She swayed slightly, her movements slow and disoriented, as if waking from a centuries-long slumber.

"Unh…" she murmured, her voice raspy and unused. "Where is… who sent you here?" Her gaze swept over Loki and Harin, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Harin stepped forward, her expression cool and assessing. "That's not your concern."

Serana's gaze sharpened, fixing on Harin. A flicker of amusement, almost predatory, touched her lips. "I think it is, actually. Unless you've simply stumbled into this… place. Which I highly doubt. Why would someone who isn't… like me… come all the way down here?"

A subtle unease settled over Harin. There was something undeniably captivating about Serana's beauty, but it was a beauty that felt sharp, almost dangerous. 

"Like me?" she thought, a shiver running down her spine. 

"What do you mean, 'like you'?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral.

Serana offered a slow, almost languid smile, a hint of crimson glinting in the depths of her eyes. "A... can't you tell just from looking at me? A vampire."

Harin remained outwardly unfazed, though she felt the air grow colder around them. "Why were you locked away like this?"

"That's… a long story," Serana replied, her gaze flickering between Loki and Harin, a flicker of suspicion clouding her amethyst eyes. 

"And I'm not entirely sure I can trust either of you. But if you want the whole story," she paused, her gaze settling on Loki, a subtle shift in her expression, a hint of something deeper than pleading, entering her voice, "you'll help me get back to my family's home."

A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the distant drip of water echoing through the vast cavern. Then, Loki spoke, his voice low and resonant, the single word carrying a weight of unspoken history. 

"Serana."

Her head snapped towards him, her eyes widening in genuine surprise. A flicker of recognition, then confusion, crossed her features. "You… you know me?"

Loki met her gaze, a complex tapestry of emotions. Recognition, regret, and a strange sense of responsibility, swirling within him. 

"Now isn't the time for explanations," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "The prophecy will begin soon. And you will be needed."

Serana's brow furrowed, her confusion deepening. "What prophecy?"

"You and I both know why Velerica put you here," Loki continued, choosing his words with care. He watched her closely, gauging her reaction.

Serana's eyes widened, a mixture of hope and fear warring within them. "You… you know my mother?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What happened to her? Is she…?"

"She's safe," Loki reassured her, his voice softening. "In the Soul Cairn."

Relief washed over Serana's face, quickly followed by a renewed sense of urgency. "We have to go to her! We have to get her out!"

"Not yet," Loki cautioned, his tone firm. He placed a hand on Harin's arm, a silent signal for her to stay alert. "It's not time. Rushing into this will only play into Harkon's hands."

Serana's gaze sharpened, her amethyst eyes narrowing as she studied Loki with renewed intensity. She circled him slowly, her gaze lingering on his face, his posture, the way he carried himself.

 "You know a great deal," she observed, her voice laced with suspicion. "If what you say is true… Why wake me now?"

"I need the scrolls," Loki stated simply, his gaze unwavering.

Serana's expression hardened, the delicate features of her face taking on a cold, almost predatory edge.

Before she could speak, Loki raised a hand, cutting her off. "It doesn't have anything to do with the prophecy or your bloodlines," he said, his voice resolute, leaving no room for argument. The words hung in the air between them, a declaration of intent.

Serana's gaze intensified, her eyes searching his. "What do you need them for?" she asked, her voice tight with suspicion.

"To return," Loki replied, his gaze unwavering, meeting her intense stare.

Serana considered his words, her eyes flicking between Loki and Harin. She seemed to weigh their words, their expressions, searching for any hint of deceit. Finally, she spoke, her voice measured. 

"Let's say I believe you," she said slowly, each word carefully enunciated. "How are you going to return the scrolls to me?"