We approach a 30ish Altmer couple in a horse drawn carriage. Both of a rather slim and attractive build, the female has the air of a posh aristocrat, while the male acts the role of the unwilling servant. At least from afar, as he is actually simply the overworked and underappreciated husband. The two are slowly traveling away from Windhelm, as the woman complains about their recent excursion.
"Ugh, that was the most utterly dreadful shopping trip yet, Regale. I suspect you’ll find another jeweler, will you not?" The dark-haired woman drones.
The male Altmer lets out a heavy sigh and replies, “…There’s just no pleasing you, is there, Soiree? I’ve just spent a miniature fortune on jewelry on you, and you wish to go shopping again? I can’t believe it.” He adds under his breath, “I told my father an arranged marriage wouldn’t end well.”
"What was that my beauty?"
"Oh, um… nothing. Nothing at all…"
"Oh! Is that a Caravan I see? Those Khajit always find themselves the most lovely exotics. Quick, call them over!"
"So… now you wish to spend even MORE of my father’s money? I swear, for you to be the heir to such a prestigious house, you sure seem to lack many belongings of your own. …Oh well, if I’m to keep my overbearing wife happy… Hail! Hail good sir!
The caravan driver slowly approaches on carraige; the back was bulging with what seemed to be tents and other supplies. However, as the caravan drew near, Soiree notices a strange gleam in the Khajit driver’s eyes.
"Honey… maybe we should continue…" she whispers in Regale’s ear.
"Oh no. You’re not getting me with that one," He counters. "If I left now, you’d never let me hear the end of it later. Not to mention, we’ve already gotten his attention. Let’s not waste his time."
As the carriage slows to a stop beside the couple’s, the tarp covering it bursts apart in a display of slashes, as a male and female vampire emerge from the back.
The couple let out a scream, and sit frozen in fear.
The male vampire speaks: “Ahhh, I told you the Khajit thrall would help. Now… as for our dinner plans…” His voice softens as he turns toward the couple. His gaze seems to break the hold on Regale, who slowly begins to reach for the glass sword at his side.
The male vampire looks at the couple sensually. “They’re quite fine specimens to look at. They seem to be in great shape,” he says with a pause. “Especially his… lovely…” His eyes turn to Soiree.
Regale pulls his sword out in a flash, and readies a spell in his other hand. “Stay away from my wife you dastards!” He yells, cutting off the male midsentence.
He leaps forward, coming down upon the male with an overhead slash. The vampire however grabs his blade with his left hand, and swiftly pierces Regale’s chest with his right.
Soiree screams at the sight of her husband’s blood spilling forth from his mouth and chest; the same dark red as her lips. “M- My treasure! What have you done to my treasure!?” Her eyes well up with tears as Regale’s body grows limp.
The male then speaks, slowly, with a smile that shows his large fangs;
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I don’t enjoy my food fighting back." He removes his arm from Regale’s chest, pulling a throbbing heart with it. He sighs and drops the heart, and promptly stomps on it. This prompts yet another outburst of cries from Soiree. "Well… that ruined my appetite." He turns to his companion, and says with an obvious air of boredom, "Do what you wish with the other. I’m headed back to the lair."
The female slowly reaches for Soiree’s arm as she still sits upon the carraige, “Well, I’m still quite famished. Don’t resist, and you may yet see another day.”
Soiree’s mind swirled with thoughts: She fell to her knees in anguish and attempted to make head or tails of the death of her husband; the swift and powerful elegance of his murderer; the thoughts of impending death the thoughts of her parents at the loss of not only the last heir to their home, but also their last shot at restoring the honor of their house. As she begins to black out with these overwhelming thoughts, she feels teeth sink into her neck…