Widowed by a vampire

Introduction

I'm dead and this is the journal of what I remember. This is what I remember, however I do remember more everyday.
I am one hundred and nine, I have moved away from my parents and have finally got on the road. To execute my dream. Oh my, I forget my manners. I am Laucian, a dark elf assassin. I know, nothing knew but I ain't going to bore you with my soppy story about my horrid childhood. I wasn't beaten, I wasn't a slave, I was an orphan. However, now I am a six foot tall dark elf with skin as pale as the snow from the north. My eyes are like the black pearls of the ocean, with red irises dancing round the centre. I wear leather armour, it's thick but it is light. Perfect for stealth. At this time, I was part of a small group - a party of sorts - and we would take contracts from anyone with the gold. There were four of us, including me. There was the human ranger, John, as well as the green dragon born fighter, Medrash I think, and then the most beautiful half elf in the entire realm, she was a rogue like myself and was called Mara Xiloscient. I could never remove my gaze from her for long, her eyes were like flawless emeralds and her voice was like a fey lute. I have keen senses but I have keen feelings for her. Mara as beautiful as a queen, smelt as sweet as a flower bed.
We had travelled together for around two years, always on the road - definitely at its side - and always catching coin. Never caught. No evidence of our existence. Just a complete contract and a body. We always had a room somewhere, that was the joy of the dragonborn. Medrash was fun, a great guy but was pushing sixty. He never slowed us down, he was stubborn and tougher than his scaled hide. Medrash was a fighter but he did worse damage with words than any blade or spell could. He made bards pointless on our quest, thankfully. We always slept in comfort living quarters, never short of a mattress or blanket to stay warm after a good night's journey or work. Through life I did try master Medrash's trick but I don't think I will, he'd only say, "Alright beautiful, two nights, five rooms, comfortable." Never anymore, never any less.
John was our hunter if we'd travelled past civilization. John had his way round a bow better than any elf I'd seen or met. Better than some I've killed. John could kill a deer from forty feet away - he'd pull out an arrow, pull it back and let it whistle, before we know it we hear the deer whine as it died. About half an hour after that, you could smell the fresh meat boiling and the fresh herbs dressing over the beautiful and tender deer meat. John could cook better than any god of creation.
Now you know who my "friends" were, let me tell you about the day I lost them. Lost them all. The day I lost what was precious to me, the day I started to tender to flowers. It was a great day, the sun shone like a painful beacon and the birds sung like there was no tomorrow. The local flora blossomed, sunlight groping each petal and leaf. I had woken up early, around six in the morning, and stared up at the ceiling above me. "New day, new village and very new contract," I said to myself before I launched out of my warm bed. My bare feet touched the freezing stone floor, the cold slithered up my spin rapidly, while the warm air brushed against my pale flesh. "The floor like death, yet the air like Mara," I commented to myself as I bent over a wooden desk, a meter away from my bed, and grasped my armour. The leather was lukewarm and slide on perfectly, like it would every morning. My armour was a thick coal black and the hood masked my pale, jagged features. I have no shame but I can't be seen, incase someone knows of my crimes but again I have no regrets. Taking only a minute to don my armour, I strapped my rapier to my side and my daggers alone my lower back. My burglar's kit hid under my bed for now, no need to drag the unnecessary through town. I had gathered my equipment, I looked as handsome as any noble. I'd pull off being a prince of a dark elf city, at least I could back then. I was ready, ready to scout out the village and learn what I must. First, however, I needed an ale.
I stepped out of my bedroom, closed the door behind me elegantly and looked over the banister to see a quiet tavern below. "Do I jump down, make a scene," I asked myself, always did when I had an upstairs view of a tavern, "nah, I will just walk and make my entrance grand," I would finally decide. I was young and stupid but I wasn't brain dead. As I turned towards the stairs, I was greeted by the most beautiful, mesmerising and celestial sight.