I'm not sure how long it's been since Harkon bit me and made me into a vampire, but I wake up in some shadowy cathedral place, presumably still in Castle Volkihar. To my surprise, Harkon is there to help me up.
He tells me that I'm more than just an ordinary vampire. Now I have the blood of an ancient, purer form, closer to the race's founder, Molag Bal. And that's meant in a very literal sense.
I suppose this is the closest I'll ever come to being a Nose. At the very least, I don't have a tail anymore, but that's not the only thing that feels different.
I'm powerful again, more powerful than I was even back when I was a vampire. Granted, I'm sure the same weaknesses will return, but this time, I think it's something closer to a fair trade. Or even a bargain. I'm still leery of the savage impulses my vampirism thrusts upon me, but seeing as how the castle's "cattle" are mindless thralls, I suppose feeding on them is a mercy.
But in the future, I promise myself to be more discriminating with my targets, since now my bite seems to kill people, not just take some of their blood.
Besides, I didn't become a vampire so I could be like all the vampires. I'm a vampire for the power it affords. Inside, I'm still myself, and if Serana can be lovely and charming, then there's no reason I can't be the same way.
Harkon wastes no time putting me to use, though--there's a cup or something that needs filling, for some ritual he wants to perform. I suppose I might as well help out, for now, but I'm not making any promises to the guy. I work for myself first, and no one else.
It's night when I head out from Volkihar and back to the mainland, so I suppose it's time to cut my teeth on some Altmer. When my vampiric urge for slaughter and my...well, ordinary urge for slaughter combine, it's a beautiful thing.
Fighting with my claws lacks the subtle panache of my blade, but I can stay in the fight and stay satiated, which makes for longer but safer battles. And like any good vampire, I suppose, my immortality just makes me even more paranoid about keeping myself alive.
But the best part is that now I have wings. I'm one step closer to becoming a real dragon!
But again, I'm not a monster. Contrary to Harkon's exhortations, I don't look down on all mortals as some sort of prey to be stalked and killed. That attitude I reserve for Noses.
And freaky old trolls.
Anyways, the place to where I'm headed is just west of Riften, so I grab a carriage from Solitude. I stop over at the inn--apparently this time around, being a vampire doesn't make me immune to the vagaries of sleeplessness. Either that or I just imagined it last time and spent so much time dosed on Nose-blood that I forgot how tired I was.
Lisin, of course, is at the Bee and Barb. I don't know what her feelings will be on me becoming a vampire again. Frankly, I don't think she should care, but then again, I spent so much time pestering her to help me get cured last time that she might see my relapse as something of a wasted investment.
I'll just avoid that conversation altogether.
Relieving my brief flash of moral conflict over my returning to the fold of Molag Bal is the realization, at a farm west of the city, that I'm not exactly on Team Vampire yet. In fact, I'm happy to take the side of the guards against this guy. He's giving us a bad name, after all.
I head to where the vampires at Volkihar told me to go, and there's just a burned-out old cabin with some lonely woman pretending it's not a burned-out old cabin. It's very confusing, but she acts like everything's normal so I, figuring she can't be completely crazy, poke around and find a passage underground.
I talk to the caged woman in the lobby, and it turns out the vampires are more degenerate that I imagined.
Akatosh preserve me, they've sent me on a drug run.
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"They sent me for SKOOMA?!"