Simon walked up to the Vampire, watched him twitch in pain, took the great axe from his back, and with a whistling strike, instantly lopped off his head.
After dying, the Vampire's body slowly burned to a pile of ash-blue dust, leaving behind all its clothes and possessions.
By the time Simon had sorted out his spoils, the three pursuers ran over, panting, led by a Redguard with skin tanned to a shiny black.
The Redguards of Tamriel came from the continent of Yokuda, surrounded by islands to the west, but this continent had already sunk, and its history was buried by the sands of time.
Now, the Redguards reside in the Hammerfell province in western Tamriel, a barren land with arid deserts.
To survive, Redguards established ports along the coast for trade and commerce, and many Redguards would travel the world by ship, embarking on their own adventures.
Redguards are natural warriors, healthy and resilient, with an extraordinary tolerance for poisons and high temperatures.
The gentleman before Simon was clearly an old hand; though his face was full of the marks of time, a closer look still revealed a hint of youthful innocence.
All three wore heavy, standardized armor, like three solemn stone statues, which contrasted interestingly with the majestic External Armor Simon wore.
The Redguard spoke, "Thank you for your assistance, Sir.
This Vampire was very cunning; we chased him for three days and couldn't kill him."
Simon still wore his hood, slightly obscuring his helmet, revealing a pair of deep, dark eyes that reflected a faint glimmer.
"You're welcome.
It is the duty of the brave to deal with such wicked creatures."
The Redguard showed a joyful expression upon hearing this, "Oh! Your sentiments are truly excellent, Sir.
My name is Isran, this is my companion Gunmar, and this is Xi Lang."
Isran's two companions were both Nords.
Gunmar was a red-haired strongman, and Xi Lang was a tall, thin blonde.
They both greeted Simon politely.
"I don't have a name, but you can call me Whitestone; a friend once called me that," Simon said gruffly.
"The three of you appear to be members of some organization."
Isran took off his helmet, revealing a short, dark brown buzz cut that looked neat and sharp, but his beard was dense and braided, quite stylish.
Redguards indeed have a tradition of growing beards, perhaps believing that 'a beardless mouth is unreliable in business.' In short, a beard is a symbol of a mature man.
"Yes, we are Stendarr's Vigilants, responsible for hunting down undead creatures."
Xi Lang couldn't help but interrupt, "Isran, we don't just hunt undead creatures, we also guard against all evil."
Isran frowned and turned to look at his companion.
"Is there a difference?
Kill all those evil beasts, and the world will be peaceful, especially Vampires; not even half a one should be left."
Simon was not interested in their argument and immediately prepared to leave.
The red-haired strongman Gunmar reminded him, "My friend, be careful of Vampires; they've been very active recently."
"Alright.
Of course," Simon quickly departed, while Isran and Xi Lang were still arguing.
Such discussions often lead nowhere.
Encountering Vampires was a diversion for Simon, but the three of them reminded him of some game plotlines.
These three were characters from the Dawnguard DLC.
Isran was the leader and soul of the Dawnguard, Gunmar was the blacksmith and beast tamer, and Xi Lang was a minor character whose name sounded like laundry detergent.
In the entire DLC, what impressed Simon most was the crossbows used by the guards, which were quite cool, and second was the Soul Cairn, which was a Necromancer's holy land.
Simon was so curious about the Soul Cairn that he felt an urge to start the storyline right away.
However, Jonas hadn't grown up yet, so he would put it aside for now.
Simon's current strength was quite formidable; if he couldn't win, he could retreat to the Pure Land, fully capable of venturing into Skyrim alone.
However, he was personally very satisfied with his homebody life and usually wasn't keen on moving.
He still had many things to learn and study, and it wasn't yet the stage where he needed to search for ruins everywhere.
Wearing his External Armor, Simon quickly ran back to the Wolf Pack Resting Place.
The Icefield Wolves had all been taken into his Pure Land to become sheepdogs, and now the shack was empty.
Simon took off his armor and coat, and as usual, burrowed into his bedding for a comfortable half-day's sleep.
However, he was woken up before he had even fully slept.
Several rude bandits were rummaging through the shack, wantonly searching the crates, mercilessly kicking the Troll who was sleeping soundly.
After finding food, they started shouting and yelling, making an extreme racket, like a group of baboons in heat.
Half an hour later, they lay on the ground with broken limbs, their necks bitten by Soul-sucking Tapeworms.
The Troll's face was calm, his three eyes roving over the four foolish thieves on the ground.
A Nord, an Imperial, an Orc, and a Wood Elf.
Good.
Simon said in a flat tone, "You know what?
Not long ago, I was wondering what a Necromancer converted from a human soul would be like, and you, you've come at just the right time."
The Nord and the Orc were cursing loudly, the Wood Elf's face was serious, seemingly attempting some countermeasure, while the Imperial completely broke down, begging for mercy, saying he had elderly parents and young children, and asking the great Troll to spare his life.
At this moment, a roaring bear's growl came from outside the shack.
Simon turned his head to look, and a magnificent white bear poked its head through the wide stone window.
The Wood Elf smiled.
The great forest would protect those who adhered to the Green Pact, letting the guardians of nature tear this Troll to shreds!
The white bear was the strongest beast nearby, having recently moved to the Tundra.
It roared furiously at the Troll, its voice echoing like a resonating bell.
Simon showed no weakness, returning with a thunderous battle cry.
It was as if a hundred kegs of gunpowder had exploded on flat ground.
The white bear's face twisted in fear, drooling, whimpering and shrinking back, then waddling its large backside and fleeing madly.
The triumphant smile on the Wood Elf's face froze.
The Nord shut his mouth, and the Orc was too stunned to continue his Arrogant.
Only the Imperial's cries grew louder.
Simon turned back to survey his captives, his tone gentle, "Normally, I value every life, but I presume you would be happy to offer your lives for the great magic, wouldn't you?"
"If we say no, will you let us go?" The Imperial's face, covered in snot and tears, was full of hopeful lucky.
"No," Simon smiled.
"Then what if we say yes?" The Nord asked cautiously.
"Still no," Simon smiled again.
At this, all four bandits cried.
The Troll laughed heartily, "Don't rush!
Don't cry!
You'll still have plenty to enjoy when you become ghosts later!"
The eerie blue necromantic energy emitted a chilling light, stripping away all vitality.
The Soul-sucking Tapeworms vigorously drew, and four human souls, shrouded in black mist, floated haphazardly into a blue orb suspended in mid-air.
Death will defeat my enemies!
Pain will twist your souls!
In wails, become my servants!
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