Chapter 51: Howling at the Moon I
"Ah, there you are." Skjor says.
"I heard you were looking for me." I say as he stands up.
"Yes. I have something a little different planned this time. But it's not for everyone to hear. Follow me to the Underforge." Skjor says, leading me to a rocky outcropping.
Going inside, we discover a stone fountain with Aela in her werewolf form.
"This is Aela. Your forbear… What we are about to do… It is best you not tell the Harbinger. He doesn't understand the importance of sharing our gift, our strength with our perspective pack." Skjor explains as he draws a knife, "If you are ready, we can begin."
"I understand and I am ready to accept this gift." I say in anticipation as my heart starts pounding.
"Good." Skjor says as he pulls out a dagger and slashes Aela's wrist allowing her blood to flow into the stone fountain as he then motions, "Then drink."
I listen to his order, going forward, one step after another…
*Badump*
*Badump*
*Badump*
I feel my heart pounding as I stick my hands and draw the crimson substance to my lips...
As I feel it going down my throat, it begins to warm… Getting hotter and hotter before it feels like I've drunk a gallon of molten lead. Leaving me wretching on the floor. But no matter how much I heave nothing comes out and I start to feel the heat spreading throughout my entire body.
Pounding my fist against the ground, I hear a deep scratching sound and the voice of Skjor as if we are separated by a rushing river.
"… going on? The… never this violent?!" Skjor exclaims in shock, his voice broken and distorted as my transformation continues.
I feel my bones snap and reset in seconds, only stronger than before and a deep tearing as I feel my face morph into an elongated snout as my tusks grow to almost three times their length with a top row of canines descending to almost match them in length and my vision changes as the darkness becomes clear and my once violet eyes take on a golden predatory hue.
As my transition nears completion I feel my muscles expand and solidify. If I had compared them to hardened steel when I first arrived in this world, I'd liken them more towards orichalcum. Dense and packed with a primal ferocity. And a thick layer of muddy forest green fur begins to sprout covering my body, as a pale white mane grows around my neck.
I rear up on my hind legs, causing me to tower over not only Skjor, but Aela who is still in her werewolf form as well. I feel my muzzle scraping against the roof of the cavern, making me at the very least nearly 10 ft tall, nearly eye level with a giant. A deep rumble begins to tear up from my stomach through my throat as a thunderous howl shatters the silence of the night.
*AAAAARRRWWWHHHOOOOO!!!*
Which cowes the two into submission long enough for me to dart out of the cave and emerge into the town.
The world is almost completely devoid of color, except for the flames crackling away in the braziers and the forms of the townspeople running away in terror driving my inner beast into a frenzy. It's similar to the battle lust I'd feel before a big fight but infinitely stronger. As if everything was an enemy, a prey to be hunted and devoured.
A dozen or so guards surround me as I prowl atop the gates surrounding the elder gleam tree.
"Halt!... Foul... Oblivion!" One of the guards tries to say, but most of his words are drowned out by the raging river coursing through my head.
"Roar!" I bellow before lunging from my perch and shredding through his armor with my claws as if it were butter giving me access to their still faintly beating heart which I begin to devour with gusto as the remaining guards watch on in terror before one accidentally lets loose an arrow disrupting my gruesome meal despite doing no actual harm, sending me back into my hunting frenzy as I jump towards the unfortunate archer as I snap his bow in-between my teeth before ripping out his throat.
This sends the few remaining guards that were frozen in fear running for cover in a panic. Their fleeing whipping me into an even greater frenzy as I chase after one of the unfortunate guardsmen into a corner by the outer wall.
Slowly stalking closer I lean down over the guard who seems to be quacking in their armor, trying and failing to hide against the wall, from my sight. I slowly bring myself to tower over them as my drool drips down upon their helm.
"Talos… Mercy!" I faintly hear them prey before something causes me to freeze on the spot as a moment of clearity reaches my very core.
"Papa! Help!" I hear Lucia, as clear as day, as insane as that sounds.
And the predatory hunger that drove me just moments ago, disappeared, filled with a paternal rage. I dig my claws into the wall surrounding Whiterun climbing over before bounding towards the Tower where I had heard her pleas previously.
"Arrooow!" I bellow as I continue on towards the tower, past a grizzled middle-aged orc who stands amidst the corpses of two sabre cats and a bear.
The orc while initially in shock, eventually smiles and says, "Blüdtuth, the Exiled Defender rises… It seems Malacath has deemed it fit to send a legend to serve as my good death. I can think of nothing better!" The orc laughs before following after the Gargantuan Werewolf in search of his good death.
I sense something following behind me, but I ignore it as something much more pressing pushes my to sprint even faster through the wild making my way towards the perimeter of the Tower as I see a number of bonfires surrounding the Khajiit caravans before it clicks that it is the caravan tents themselves that are on fire.
It is then I see it… A sight, that had I still been a mere mer, would have made my blood run cold… But now? Now it makes it bubble with an unquenchable rage.
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Chapter 52: Howling at the Moon II
I see Lucia in tears being shielded by Inigo and the rest of the Khajiit who've been herded into a makeshift cage, as my companions and laborers have been restrained by rope and gagged. While there seems to be around twenty bandits wielding oddly reflective weapons, surrounding everyone.
"Where is the fucking orc, abomination!" One of the bandits says while backhanding M'rissi who growls adamantly in response. As the rest of the bandits simply laugh.
*Grrr* "She will tell you nothing!" M'rissi growls before spitting blood on the bandit.
"Damn, cunt!" The bandit says while punching M'rissi in the stomach before continuing his aggressive interrogation, "We know he has been seen with the Companions! We won't let another foul beast taint these lands unchallenged!"
"Ha! The only foul beast she smells is you!" M'rissi says with a sneer earning her another backhand and another round of laughter from the supposed leader's lackeys.
A growl begins to rise up from my throat but that voice speaks up once more, but this time it's crystal clear.
(Not now...)
"What do you mean, 'not now'?! I'm going to rip their throats out and feast on their beating hearts!" I snarl at the voice in my head.
(Because... A quick and painful death is a mercy for those who harm those we love...) The voice says, causing me to pause.
"You have my attention, don't waste it." I say after giving a moment of pause.
(This is what we will do...) The voice begins to explain as a demonic grin spreads across my muzzle.
The moons, high in the sky illuminate a lone figure atop the Tower. As the men below continue abusing their captives.
*Aaaawhhhoooo!*
An eerie wailing howl punctuates the night causing the bandits to pause and look to the Tower in momentary shock before regaining their backbone as their leader shouts, "He's here! Prepare yourselves! This abomination dies tonight by our blessed blades!"
"Quick, up the Tower, the beast is trapped!" The leader orders as three men charge up the tower, only to call out from the top of the tower.
"Boss! There's nothing up here! He's gone!" One of them shouts down below.
"The fuck? Where did he go? Come on down!" The leader shouts before turning to M'rissi, "Where is he?!"
"Who?" M'rissi asks in utter confusion.
"That orc! The werewolf!" He begins to shout much to the shock of those who were captured, but before anyone can say anything a blood-curdling scream can be heard as a dark figure can be seen leaping from a window midway up the tower with something large in its maw.
"Its got Brasgar! Just snatched him away like he was nothing!" One of the two bandits shout as they exit the Tower and regroup with the 17 remaining bandits.
Screams of gut wrenching pain can be heard from the darkness sending the bandits on edge making one of the greener bandits shout out, "For Talos' sake! We have to help him!" The bandit says readying his reflective blade to charge into the darkness.
"Hold fast, you fool! This isn't some lone pup, but a damned predator!" The leader says trying to reassert control over their men but much too late as the rookie has already darted into the darkness after Brasgar...
After several agonizing seconds the rookie returns with their wounded comrade who's left leg has been snapped like a twig and who had apparently passed out from the pain.
"What in the-" The leader begins to exclaim in confusion before a piercing scream echos from the rear of the group.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!! MY FUCKIN' LEGS!" The bandit in the rear screams as a large green shadow darts back into the darkness as it seems the bandit's calves had been shredded.
"FUCK! CIRCLE AROUND THE PRISONERS! LEAVE THE WOUNDED! EYES ON THE DARKNESS!" The leader shouts in a panic causing the bandits to snap to attention. Rounding up their prisoners and forming a circle with the burning caravan tents to serve as their perimeter.
"Heh, you stinky bandits have messed with the wrong orc. My friend will kill you all." Inigo sneers at the bandits.
"Shit the fuck up!" One of the bandits shouts at Inigo.
"Stray, what are you talking about?" M'rissi whispers to Inigo, "And why does it smell like Fluffy is out there? Do you know that beast?"
"Do not worry, just trust in Silvantus and everything will be alright." Inigo says with a knowing smile.
Screams continue through the darkness as the bandit who had his legs slashed can be heard calling for help until he is silenced...
And with his silence, so too does the camp become silent...
"What is he planning? Felgar tak-" The leader starts to say before a large bowling ball sized object is thrown towards one of the bandits, knocking him to his knees as he catches it.
"What the- Norvard!?" The bandit exclaims in terror as the object is revealed to be the severed head of the bandit who had their legs slashed.
And as the bandits are distracted by the head, the green and white beast bursts through their weakened lines and guts three of the bandits in seconds before diving back into the darkness.
"Fuck! Dornir! What do we do!" One of the bandits shouts to the leader.
Dornir sighs, before looking on stoically, "Greenhorns! Listen up! You're going to head back to base for reinforcements... Be sure to raise your torches high, flames scare the beast!"
"Yeeeaaaahhh!" Seven of the bandits cheer before pulling out their torches and marching east out of camp... And one of the more veteran bandits turns to Dornir.
"It's suicide to send them out there!" He says, his face warped by his distress.
"I know... Ready your bows... Make their sacrifice worth it." Dornir says resolutely. "Aim for the light once they grow dimmer!"
And as the greenhorns get farther from the camp, their screams of pain echo throughout the night as their torches go out one by one.
"Fire!" Dornir shouts as the remaining 12 bandits let loose a volley of silver tipped arrows into the night. Aided by the torches, more arrows than not hit their mark resulting in a gutteral roar echoing through the plains before silence reigns.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
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