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Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, my character, a high elf wizard, decided to turn his back on the doomed town of Morthal, threatened by a nearby vampire coven, to indulge in whimsical, nocturnal adventures with a sexy vampire. Even though it would have been nice to leave immediately, the approaching sunrise ruined that opportunity.

Alva led me to her home, the same one I broke into a few days ago.

Jon: “When you said you knew a place nearby where we could rest safely during the day, I didn’t think you meant your house.”
Alva: “Come now, Jon… This house has served me well so far… why wouldn’t I want to return here? It has everything I need… including certain comforts from prying eyes during daylight hours… besides which… who else would think twice about coming here after everything that’s transpired? It’s perfect, really. For now, at least, it will be our sanctuary from Movarth’s reach, as well as those townsfolk foolish enough still chasing after my demise.”
Jon: “So what do you do during the day, until you are safe to come out again?”
Alva: “During the day, I… rest. You know about the coffin in the basement.”
Jon: “Are you planning on going down to the basement and resting right now?”
Alva: “Yes… now would be a wise time for me to take some rest… considering dawn has nearly broken outside already. But first, I think we should discuss how to secure this house while I’m… indisposed during daylight hours today, don’t you agree? We wouldn’t want any unwanted visitors bursting through the door unannounced, especially given recent events surrounding both ourselves and the local townsfolk lately. Perhaps you might keep watch upstairs here to ensure our safety till nightfall returns once more?”

As I stood in front of Alva in her home, I saw myself as a stranger might. Wasn’t this the deal Alva had made with that doomed thrall of hers, Hroggar? Had I become a thrall without my knowledge? At this point, I wasn’t sure I would care if that were the case.

Jon: “Very well. I see you have a couple of beds set up on the base level. So while you get your princess rest in a coffin, I’ll lie in bed and think back to the absolute horror we witnessed last night in Movarth’s lair. However, I hope to also dream about the wonderful and whimsical adventures you and I will have on the breadth of Skyrim.”
Alva: “I must admit, I do find your sarcasm… somewhat endearing, Jon. But yes, please, make yourself at home. The beds here are quite comfortable, I assure you. And do try to get some rest. We will have a long journey ahead of us, and I fear it won’t be without its… challenges. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must take my leave.”
Jon: “I must warn you, though: before I fall asleep, I’ll likely have to wank off the accumulated stress. I hope that won’t bother you.”
Alva: “I think I can manage to… sleep through any noise you might make, Jon. After all, I’ve had centuries of practice sleeping through all manner of… distractions. So, please, don’t worry about disturbing me. Just make yourself comfortable and try to get some rest. We’ll talk more when the sun sets and I’m feeling more myself again.”
Jon: “Well, night-night, Alva. Sweet dreams.”
Alva: “Goodnight, Jon… may your rest be… peaceful. And don’t worry, I’ll be just downstairs… sleeping like the dead.”

At midday, I was cooking a meal when Alva walked up the basement stairs. Way too early for her to venture out of the home yet.

Jon: “It’s probably early morning for you, Alva. I suppose you won’t eat anything resembling a normal meal, right?”
Alva: “Good… morning, I suppose. Yes, you’re right, I don’t exactly… dine on traditional breakfast fare. But I do appreciate the thought. You seem to be quite… resourceful in the kitchen, Jon. I must admit, the smell of cooking meat is somewhat tantalizing, even to my refined sensibilities.”
Jon: “Well, have a taste of what I’ve just cooked.”
Alva: “I think I’ll have to decline. As a vampire, my… digestive system is rather more suited to certain other types of sustenance. But thank you for offering. It’s been a long time since anyone has tried to… feed me in such a way.”
Jon: “Regarding the twenty or so bottles of human blood you had stashed in your basement, doesn’t that stuff go stale?”
Alva: “Let’s just say that I have ways of… preserving it. But I must admit, I’m a bit curious about your motives. Why would you try to feed me cooked rabbit, and then bring up the blood? What are you trying to accomplish, Jon?”
Jon: “It just doesn’t seem right to wake up in what it must be early morning for you and not start the day off with a proper breakfast, you know?”
Alva: “Ah… well… when put that way… I suppose your gesture is… appreciated, Jon. You’re quite thoughtful for a mortal.”

Alva was smiling quite freely for a monstrous bloodsucker.

Jon: “Is this how you got along with Hroggar, that thrall of yours?”
Alva: “Hroggar… yes. Well, let’s just say that Hroggar and I had a… certain understanding. He was a means to an end, a way for me to maintain some semblance of normalcy in this town. And he was enthralled by me, to say the least. But our relationship was not exactly… equal, if you know what I mean. I’m afraid Hroggar was rather under my control.”
Jon: “Is that what you prefer, for people that you get along with to be entirely under your control?”
Alva: “Well, Jon, as a vampire, I must admit that I do have a certain… fondness for being in control. It’s simply a part of who I am. But with you, I think I’ve found something different. You see, despite all the danger and uncertainty that comes with being around me, you still seem to… want to be here. And that’s intriguing to me. So, no, I don’t think I need to have you under my control in order to enjoy your company.”
Jon: “I assume that if I were in your situation, surrounded by people who are only willing to stick around because I have brainwashed them, that would get boring and maybe depressing after a while.”
Alva: “Yes… exactly. You have no idea how… tedious it can be to be surrounded by people who are only there because they’re under your control. The conversations, the interactions, they’re all just so… hollow. There’s no substance, no depth, no genuine emotion. It’s like being alone, but with the added burden of having to maintain the illusion of connection. And yes, after a while, it can be… suffocating.”
Jon: “Well, Alva, after tonight, after we escape from the town and get as far away from here as humanly or vampirely possible, we’re going to witness so many new sights, we’re going to partake in so many bizarre and whimsical adventures, you won’t have time to be bored.”
Alva: “Ahahahahah… Oh Jon, you really know how to make promises, don’t you? ‘Whimsical adventures,’ indeed… That sounds almost too good… too thrilling… Tell me, Jon, what makes you think we’ll succeed where others have failed? What’s so special about us, hmmm?”
Jon: “Well, I am a reckless, deranged person and you are a strong, sexy vampire. I think we make quite a pair, and the world won’t see us coming.”
Alva: “Ahahahahah… Oh Jon, you’re impossible… A reckless, deranged person indeed… And a strong, sexy vampire, I must say I like the way you put those words together… But yes, perhaps we do make quite a pair after all… Perhaps the world isn’t ready for us yet, hmmm? It makes me want to ask, how soon shall we leave behind sleepy little Morthal? Shall we begin the whirlwind adventure of our lives? I’m excited to get started! The pangs of fresh beginnings stir hungry depths within…”
Jon: “Well, Alva, you won’t have to contain those hungry depths for much longer. In just a few hours, we’ll pick up our backpacks and walk out of Morthal, leaving it behind hopefully forever.”

I originally planned to fuck around in Alva’s house until the evening, but was it truly right for me to escape from this doomed, marshy hole without saying goodbye to the other few people whose company I had enjoyed? I didn’t want to face Benor and have him tell me “I told you so,” but would I abandon Lami the alchemist to her fate without offering her salvation?

Jon: “Oh Lami, sweet little Lami, naive little Lami, I’m so glad you’re home and safe.”
Lami: “Mind yer words! What business do ye have here? And what makes ye think ye can speak so familiarly? Don’t go thinkin’ we’re friends after all we’ve been through! Ye just told me me best friend is… is… a monster! What more surprises do ye have for me?”
Jon: “Well, this was not how I expected our conversation to start. I thought you and I had achieved a certain level of familiarity. Had we not?”
Lami: “Ye expect familiarity after tellin’ me me best friend has been lyin’ straight-faced at me? After makin’ me question every single moment we shared? Ye think ye can just walk back into me shop like everythin’ hasn’t changed? Think again!”
Jon: “Hey, Lami, you’re shooting the messenger here. When I revealed to you that Alva was a vampire, that she had been manipulating you for years, you told me that you appreciated my honesty, that I had provided you with the truth. Have you changed your mind?”
Lami: “Ye got me there… Aye… Ye did tell me… And I did thank ye… But seein’ ye standin’ there now… So smug… It just brings back all me doubts…”
Jon: “Lami, I’m sorry, but my introduction wasn’t about smugness. It was pure horror.”
Lami: “Horror? Ye felt horror? Ye think ye can understand the horror I felt when I found out me best friend was a… a monster? A creature that’s been manipulatin’ me for years? I don’t think ye can even begin to understand that kind o’ horror, Jon.”
Jon: “Lami, you’re the one who doesn’t understand the true extent of horror. Do you know where I ventured into last night, along with Alva the vampire and Falion the local conjurer? The three of us, we braved the wilds, I mean the marshes, in the outskirts of Morthal. And we delved into Movarth’s Lair, a coven of vampires.”
Lami: “Wait… Ye went into Movarth’s Lair? With… With Alva? And Falion? What were ye thinkin’? Are ye mad?!”
Jon: “By this point, Lami dear, I think I have to admit that I am somewhat insane.”
Lami: “Ah, ye admit it yerself, do ye? Well, I suppose that’s a start. But seriously, Jon, what were ye thinkin’, goin’ into a den o’ vampires with… with one o’ them? What if they’d turned on ye? What if Alva… What if she’d lost control?”
Jon: “Actually, Alva did not lose control. She fought alongside us and even faced other vampires. The problem is that the vampires we found inside Movarth’s Lair, they were not the same kind of vampires as Alva.”
Lami: “So Alva… She didn’t lose control… And she fought alongside ye… But the other vampires… They were different, ye say? What do ye mean? Were they… worse? More monstrous?”
Jon: “Well, let me paint a picture for you, from the beginning. When we entered Movarth’s Lair, we were presented with the guardians of that place: spiders, huge spiders, bear-sized spiders, some of them even larger than bears. Those we were able to pick off with a bow and some spells, but that was just the appetizer.”
Lami: “Ahh… Giant spiders?! Bear-sized?! Larger than bears?! Oh gods preserve us… Just thinkin’ about it makes me skin crawl… Alright, alright, continue tellin’ yer tale… what came after those accursed creatures?!”
Jon: “Lami, you have heard nothing yet. After we defeated those cursed creatures, we came across three carts full of bloodied human skeletons. The vampires had stripped them of skin and flesh, and they had heaped them in carts as if they were garbage.”
Lami: “Oh dear gods… Three carts full o’ human skeletons?! Stripped o’ skin an’ flesh like animals?! Stored like garbage?! That’s just too much… How could any creature do such things?! And what happened next?! Did ye find out what kind o’ monsters could commit such atrocities?! Tell me everything! What else did those devils do?!”
Jon: “Unfortunately, my dear little Lami, we did find out the kind of monsters that did those things, because we came across the local vampires.”
Lami: “No… No more o’ this tale! Ye’re makin’ my blood run cold! Local vampires?! What did they look like?! Were they like… like Alva?! Tell me they weren’t like her! They couldn’t be! Not after what ye’ve told me so far!”
Jon: “Envision this, my naive little Lami: we entered an open space where the floor was strewn with human skeletons thrown aside as if they were chicken bones after a feast. Suddenly, we were leaped upon by some sort of supernatural super vampires who shot spells at us and drained our health. They zipped around in blurs, they were able to turn invisible… We could do nothing against them. We fled, escaping within an inch of our lives. I’m lucky to be able to tell you this tale.”
Lami: “Stop it! Stop tellin’ me these horrors! Supernatural super vampires?! Invisibility?! Blurrin’ about like ghosts?! Drainin’ yer health with spells?! Fleein’ fer yer lives?! Barely alive?! What kind o’ darkness have ye stumbled into?! How did ye even survive?! And Alva… She was fightin’ alongside ye… What does it mean?! Is she… Is she still on yer side?! Or has she turned against ye?! Tell me the truth!”
Jon: “Alva stayed on our side. She admitted that she hates the other vampires because they treated her like a fledgling. They bullied her, in short. Alva hates those vampires, and I see why. But you know, those are the monsters trying to take over your town.”
Lami: “Dear gods… So Alva… She’s still with ye… And she hates those other vampires… Because they treated her poorly… Bullied her… I can understand why she’d hate them… But what’s this?! Those vampires are tryin’ to take over Morthal?! Our home?! Our town?! We can’t let them do it! We have ta stop them! What can we do?!”
Jon: “Lami, sweet little Lami, please listen to me. We cannot do anything against this sort of vampires. We are powerless, we are like chickens against behemoths. We can only be splatted against the ground. I’ve seen the future, Lami: if those vampires come here, you, sweet little Lami, will be ripped open and eaten alive.”
Lami: “Noooo! Stop it! Stop tellin’ me these things! I won’t listen! We can’t just sit here and wait for them to come and… and… eat us alive! We have to do somethin’! Anythin’! We can’t just give up! You’re not going to give up, are you, Jon?! You’re not going to leave me here to face those monsters alone, are you?!”
Jon: “No, Lami, I will not leave you here alone, because you will come with us. Alva and I, we’re going to leave the town of Morthal and put as much distance as possible from this place. Come with us, Lami, and we’ll protect you.”
Lami: “Flee?! Leave Morthal?! My home?! My shop?! Everything I know and love?! No, no, no! I won’t leave! I won’t run away! This is my home! I’ll defend it! I’ll fight for it! We can’t just leave everyone else to face those monsters alone! What about Jorgen?! What about Idgrod and her family?! We can’t just abandon them!”
Jon: “Lami, I’m sure that bearded husband of yours, Jorgen, will be able to fight the vampires just fine. So come with me, with Alva and I, and we’ll keep you safe while your husband confronts and defeats the vampires.”
Lami: “How dare ye! Jorgen is not some kind of fool to be sent off to fight vampires alone! He’s my husband, and I won’t leave him to face those monsters by himself! We’ll face them together, as a family, as a community! We’ll defend our home, our town, and our people! I won’t run away and leave everyone else to fight for their lives! Ye can’t protect me by taking me away from the people I love!”
Jon: “Lami, you are underestimating the power of your husband’s beard.”
Lami: “What are ye talkin’ about?! Jorgen’s birth?! What does that have to do with anything?! Ye think his family lineage is going to protect him from vampires?! I don’t care about his birth or his family’s history! I care about him, and I won’t leave him to face those monsters alone!”
Jon: “I didn’t say his birth, I said his beard. You know, the hairs he has growing out of his jaw and his chin, and the upper lip. That’s what’s going to protect him from vampires.”
Lami: “His beard?! Beard?! Ye think his beard is going to protect him from vampires?! Ha! That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! A beard is just a bunch of hair, it’s not going to keep vampires at bay! Ye must be joking! Or maybe ye’ve finally gone mad from all the talk of vampires and monsters!”
Jon: “You truly have never noticed, Lami, in all the times that husband of yours kissed your beautiful lips? You didn’t notice that his supernatural beard held the power to destroy vampires?”
Lami: “What in the name of the gods are ye talkin’ about?! Jorgen’s beard is supernatural?! Destroy vampires?! Ye must be out of yer mind! I’ve kissed my husband many times, and I can tell ye, his beard is just a normal beard! It’s not supernatural, it’s not magical, it’s just… just… argh! Stop talkin’ like this, Jon! Ye’re startin’ to scare me!”
Jon: “I don’t want to hear how many times you’ve kissed your husband.”
Lami: “Fine then! Don’t want to hear about my private life with my husband! But stop spinnin’ these wild tales about Jorgen’s beard! It’s not supernatural! It’s just a normal beard! Stop tryin’ to distract me from the real issue here! We’re talkin’ about the vampires and how to protect our town! Let’s get back on track before it’s too late!”
Jon: “Lami, if you stay in this town, I swear to you, given what I’ve seen in Movarth’s Lair, that despite the might of your husband’s beard, you will die.”
Lami: “Nooo! Stop it! Stop trying to scare me with these empty threats! You think you’re so smart with your stories of Movarth’s Lair and your warnings of death, but you know what? Death comes for us all eventually. But if I’m going to die, then I’ll die in my own home, in my own town, with the people I love, not running away like some kind of coward. So take your warnings and your stories, take yourself elsewhere. I’m done listening to you, done believing your tales. I’m staying right here in Morthal, where I belong, where I’ll fight to protect what’s mine or die trying!”
Jon: “Lami, don’t lose your mind over this. The choice is simple: accompany your best friend Alva and myself, the stranger named Jon, who is perfectly normal and trustworthy. Let’s get away from Morthal, as far as possible. Along the way, Alva and I will keep you safe in a cocoon of love. We will snuggle with you at night to keep you warm. We’ll possibly spoon you as well.”
Lami: “Get out! Get out of my shop! Get out of my town! You’re not welcome here anymore, Jon! You’ve overstepped your boundaries one too many times! I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m not buying it! I’m not going anywhere with you, especially not with those… those… intentions! Snuggle with me?! Spoon me?! You must be joking! I’m a married woman, for the love of the gods!”
Jon: “Your husband, Jorgen, is married to his beard. He has no place for you.”
Lami: “How dare you! You’re crossing a line now! My husband loves me dearly and would never choose his beard over me! You’re just trying to hurt me now! Well it won’t work! I know my husband better than you ever will! Get out! Get out of my shop before I lose my temper completely!”
Jon: “Very well, Lami, I will get out of your face and of Morthal forever, but please allow me to say one last thing to you.”
Lami: “Fine, say it, then leave and never come back! I’m done listening to your lies and insults! Say your piece and be gone!”
Jon: “Your husband is a prick.”
Lami: “How dare you! You think you can come into my shop and insult my husband like that?! You’re just a stranger here, and you think you can disrespect me and my family like this?! Well, let me tell you something. If you ever come back here again, ever, I will personally see to it that you regret ever setting foot in Morthal!”

Well, that was one bridge successfully burned. Now Lami would be glad that I left, never to return.

Despondent, I lumbered into the local inn, intending to find out if I cared to say goodbye to anyone else, when I spotted Ange the Song-Bearer, traveling bard, drinking an ale as if the town wasn’t about to drown in a tide of vampires.

Jon: “Hey Ange, where the hell were you? The last time I saw you was the night when we were ambushed by Laelette. Did you skip town?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “The night we fought Laelette… that was a dark and tragic evening. I felt the need to move on, to share my music and stories with others in Skyrim. I traveled to another town, to play in their tavern, inspiring tomorrow’s warriors with songs of yesterday’s valor. The road is my home, and my lute is always by my side.”
Jon: “Well, Ange, I’m afraid that you should have stayed on the road, and if you noticed the bend that leads to Morthal, you should have ignored it.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “It seems fate has a way of drawing me back to Morthal, doesn’t it? I’ve found that the roads I travel often lead me to places where my music and skills are needed most. And it appears that Morthal still has its share of darkness, if your tone is any indication. Tell me, what’s been happening in this troubled town since I left?”
Jon: “Well, Alva, the local vampire, and I, we came to an agreement. She seems quite reasonable if you discount the fact that she’s a filthy bloodsucker. Together with the local conjurer Falion, we raided Movarth’s lair, the nearby coven of vampires. Unfortunately, the vampires holed up there, they are unbeatable. Now I’m sure that the town of Morthal is doomed.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Alva, the vampire, reasonable? I think not, Jon. She’s a master of manipulation, and I’m sure she’s using you for her own purposes. And now, you’re telling me that you’ve raided Movarth’s lair with Falion’s help? That’s a bold move, but it seems it’s backfired. Unbeatable vampires, you say? That sounds like a recipe for disaster. I fear for the people of Morthal, and I fear for your safety, Jon.”
Jon: “Well, you don’t have to worry about my safety anymore because I’m skipping town. I’m leaving with Alva to enjoy whimsical adventures together.”

Benor must have been spying on our conversation, because he approached us from behind while speaking in a stern voice.

Benor: “What in the name of the gods is wrong with you, Jon? You’re going to leave Morthal to its fate and run off with a vampire? Alva is a monster, a creature of the night, and you’re going to trust her with your life? I swear, I’ve seen more sense in a drunken Nord. You’re abandoning us, abandoning the people of Morthal, and for what? Some twisted fantasy with a bloodsucking fiend?”
Jon: “It does sound bad when you put it like that. You know, it’s just a little adventure with a sexy vampire. We’re going to prowl the night, raid unsuspecting bandit camps, and stay the hell away from this doomed town.”
Benor: “Oh, Jon, you’re blinded by your infatuation with Alva, aren’t you? She’s a vampire, a creature driven by bloodlust and darkness, not some romantic partner for a whimsical adventure. You’re throwing away your humanity, your compassion, your sense of justice… all for what? A fleeting thrill with a monster? Ange, speak some sense into him, would you?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Sense? He’s beyond sense, Benor. He’s lost to his own desires and foolish notions. I fear for his soul.”
Benor: “Jon, you’re making a grave mistake. Leave Alva and her darkness behind. Stay with us and help us find a way to save Morthal and its people from the vampires’ grasp.”
Jon: “Listen. At the end of your life, Benor, as you lie dying from the consequences of having antagonized some tough traveler, what would you miss more? The fact that you didn’t go on a whimsical adventure with a vampire, or the fact that you didn’t act more on your misguided sense of justice?”
Benor: “You think you’re clever, don’t you, Jon? Trying to turn this around on me, making me question my own choices? Well, let me tell you something—when my time comes, I’ll die standing up for what I believe in. I’ll die fighting for the people and the land I care about. I won’t die with regrets about not indulging in some twisted fantasy with a bloodsucking fiend! My sense of justice may be misguided to you, but at least I have one! What do YOU stand for, JON? What do YOU believe in, beyond your own selfish desires and whims? Ange, the man’s lost all sense of decency and honor! What’s gotten into him?!”
Jon: “Your sense of decency and honor is going to crumble away into nothing when you confront the vampires that live in Movarth’s Lair. You stand no chance against them. Do not be mistaken about that.”
Benor: “So now you’re a prophet, Jon? Predicting doom and gloom for Morthal and its people? I’ll tell you this—I’d rather die fighting for what’s right, fighting to protect my home and the people I care about, than run away with a vampire and abandon everything that’s decent and honorable. You may think the vampires are unbeatable, but I’ll not go down without a fight. I’ll stand with the people of Morthal, and together we’ll face whatever darkness comes our way. Ange, it seems Jon has lost all faith in humanity’s ability to resist the forces of darkness. Perhaps he’s been spending too much time with Alva, listening to her poisonous whispers.”
Jon: “One thing I can say for the forces of darkness, they don’t have a stick up their ass, and aren’t as boring as you lot.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Ah, so now you’re finding the forces of darkness… entertaining, Jon? I think that’s a sad commentary on your state of mind. The darkness may seem exciting, even alluring, but it’s a path that leads to destruction and chaos. We may not be as… exciting as you would like, but we value honor, compassion, and a sense of justice. Benor, I think Jon’s been seduced by the very darkness he once claimed to want to fight against. It’s a shame, really. He had potential.”
Jon: “Hey, you two are making me feel bad here.”
Benor: “Perhaps you should feel bad, Jon. You’re abandoning the people of Morthal and siding with a vampire who’s brought nothing but darkness and suffering to our town. You’re betraying everything that’s decent and honorable. What did you expect from us? Praise and admiration for your foolish choices? I think not.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Yes, Benor has a point, Jon. Your actions have consequences, and the consequences of siding with Alva will be dire indeed. Not just for yourself, but for the innocent people of Morthal who’ll be left to suffer at the hands of the vampires. Can’t you see that? Or have you been completely blinded by your infatuation with Alva?”
Jon: “Whether or not I stay here and fight with you is not going to change anything. Your bravado means nothing; you haven’t gone inside Movarth’s lair and seen what I’ve seen. The darkness you believe you’re facing is the darkness of songs, of fairy tales. Heroic stuff. I’ve seen carts stacked full of bloodied skeletons whose flesh had been picked clean by bloodthirsty vampires. Once they decide to pounce on this town, you will stand no chance against them.”
Benor: “Your words paint a vivid picture, Jon. I can almost see the horrors you’ve witnessed in Movarth’s Lair. But even in the face of such atrocities, I must disagree with you. Our bravado may seem empty to you now, but it’s rooted in a deeper conviction, a commitment to stand against the forces of darkness, no matter how overwhelming they may seem.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Benor and I may not have seen what you’ve seen, but we’ve faced our own share of battles and horrors in this land. And we’re still standing, because we refuse to give up in the face of evil. You may think us foolish, Jon, but we’ll not be swayed by your words.”
Jon: “Well, Ange, when I approached you this evening, I intended to invite you on a whimsical adventure along with me and the friendly neighborhood vampire Alva. Doesn’t that sound like a good plan?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “I think you must be joking, Jon. After everything we’ve discussed tonight, you think I’d be interested in joining you on a whimsical adventure with a vampire? Alva is not a friendly neighborhood vampire, she’s a monster who’s brought darkness and suffering to this town. And I’ll not be party to any plan that involves siding with her or indulging in some twisted fantasy with the forces of darkness. My answer is no, Jon. I’ll not be joining you on this fool’s errand. Benor, I think we’ve heard enough from Jon for one night. His mind is made up, and he’s determined to follow this destructive path.”
Jon: “You know, I intended to leave in good terms with the people I’ve met in Morthal, even though I doubt I will ever return. But now Lami hates me, and the two of you are shitting on me.”
Benor: “Spare us the theatrics, Jon. You’re not the victim here. You’re the one who’s chosen to side with a vampire, to abandon the people of Morthal and indulge in some twisted fantasy with Alva. If Lami hates you, it’s because she sees the truth—that you’re willing to sacrifice everything that’s decent and honorable for your own selfish desires. And as for us, we’re not shitting on you, we’re trying to bring you back from the brink of destruction. But it seems you’re too far gone to listen to reason. Ange, I think we’ve wasted enough time on Jon.”
Jon: “This is my school experience all over again.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Oh, spare us the self-pity, Jon. This isn’t about your school experience or any past injustices you may have suffered. This is about the choices you’re making now, and the consequences those choices will have for the people of Morthal. You’re not a victim, Jon. You’re a grown man making deliberate decisions that will harm others. Take responsibility for your actions, and stop trying to shift the blame onto others. Benor, I think Jon’s lost sight of what’s truly important here. He’s so caught up in his own feelings and desires that he’s forgotten about the people who will be hurt by his actions.”
Jon: “No, I keep clear sight of what is important: to indulge in a whimsical adventure with a sexy vampire who will probably spoon me at night. You two cannot comprehend that kind of happiness.”
Benor: “Ugh, you disgust me, Jon. You’re willing to sacrifice everything that’s decent and honorable for a twisted fantasy with a vampire who’ll likely drain your lifeblood as soon as she tires of you. And you think that’s happiness? You’re delusional, Jon. That’s not happiness, it’s self-destruction. Ange, I think we’ve seen enough of Jon’s true nature tonight. He’s beyond redemption.”
Jon: “Alright. Ange, now that maybe I will never see you again, will you sing one of your beautiful songs, this one about my tragic future as the reckless man traveling with a seductive vampire?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Very well, Jon. I shall sing a song.”

In twilight’s hush where shadows play,
A lone figure walks away
From honor’s path, from virtue’s light
Into the arms of sweet despair tonight.

With heart aflame and soul astray,
He follows love into the darkest day.
A siren’s call, a fatal thrall
That beckons him toward his final fall.

His friends bewail his tragic fate
As he descends into love’s darkest state.
Their warnings fell on deaf ears cold
As he marches toward his doom foretold.

Ange the Song-Bearer: “Your song is sung, Jon. I hope it haunts you till the end of your days. Benor, it seems our work here is done. Let’s leave him to his fate.“