Chapter 1

After the loss of Kodlak and Skjor, we Companions found ourselves under the mentor of a new leader. I myself found it funny, that this green upstart that came to us from nowhere would become our new Harbinger. But, after all of his trials and what he has done for us since then, he has completely earned my respect as a worthy shield brother and as the first person I would go to for someone to back me up. A place that used to be reserved for just my brother Vilkas. However, since his loss of power from the Circle, only the three of us remain within the Companions with the beast blood. I talked about wanting to remove the curse following after my brother. But I saw the transformation that happened shortly after he was cured and I have been too scared to complete the ritual for the cure. Within two days after Vilkas was cured, he came down with a nasty cold. Because of the beast blood, we are immune to all illnesses and diseases.

Vilkas was a snotting, sneezing whimpering mess when the Harbinger brought back the items needed for my cure. Our Harbinger, wiser than I would have first believed, handed me the items and only told me, “Use it only when you are ready.” So far, I haven’t been able to bring myself to it. Because of it, I have found that Aela now speaks with me more. I can see that she is terribly lonely now. I never noticed it before but there must have been some kind of love between Aela and Skjor. Aela has just never been herself any more. She tried to get close to the new Harbinger but that all ended the day she nearly killed one of the whelps in the training yard. After that, she was deemed no longer worthy to train the newcomers. The Harbinger himself took over that task himself. Aela got demoted to just teaching Archery, much to her dissatisfaction. She was a depressed and easily irritable person for a few weeks.

That all changed after the events of the of the Jarl Balgruuf’s messenger dropped off a request. A sealed scroll was delivered into the hands of our Harbinger. After reading the scrolls, paying a septim to the messenger and thanking them, he then retreated to the keep. Not long after, Aela comes to me requesting that I assist her and to grab my gear. After putting on my armor and loading up with all of my additional blades, I reach over and sheath my pride and joy to my back. My trusted Skyforge crafted, steel greatsword. I don’t know what it is about that forge, but all steel weapons forged from it, hardly ever lose their edge nor do the blades ever break in battle. In fact, I have shattered weapons of adversaries in battle. Nothing beats the look on a person’s face, after you just caused their sword to break like glass.

Aela is waiting for me on the bench near the outer doors looking bored while cleaning out from under her fingernails with a shiv made from melted down arrow heads. “Ready when you are.” I say to her. She quickly uncrosses her legs, stands up and grabs her bow and arrows and walks out. Not a word is spoken while I walk with her out to the city gates. Before she can reach it, I step ahead of her and grab the rather large handle and open one of the wall gates for her. She doesn’t say a word, just nods her head and walks through. I could swear I almost saw a smile start to appear on her face. We walk all the way down to the stables before she finally starts telling me what is going on.

“The Jarl is requesting our assistance on an urgent matter.” Aela begins, “Supply caravans have been attacked on the roads heading to Rorikstead. We have been charged to hunt them down and eliminate the threat and to retrieve a valuable item. Any questions” she asks.

“Yeah, how are we doing this? Neat ... or messy?”

She leans against the stable post and crosses her arms. “Well that depends, do you want to walk all the way to Rorikstead and back?”

There has to be some angle to her question. “Walk to Rorikstead and back? That’s like a three-day trek. We could ride out on horseback and cut the travel time in half.” Thinking it through more, “Of course we don’t know where these bandits are located. Which gives them the advantage. Its hard to sneak in on horseback. Plus, we have to keep the animals watered, fed and safe from predators. Which is easier said than done, trying to stay downwind so to not attract unwanted attention. Of course, the horses themselves have great noses. They can smell most of the dangerous predators out ... there.” A thought dawns on me. “If we take the horses, then we can’t be messy.”

Aela, pushes herself off of the post. “So what will it be?”

Nodding my head toward the road, “Lets take a walk.”

Aela motions towards the road, “Your decision, you lead.”

Starting down the road in silence it isn’t long before we reach the Western Watchtower. The tower has long been in disrepair and damaged worse since the Dragons have returned. Speaking of which, I glance skyward to the top of the tower. A large spiked head looks down upon us as we travel the road. I nod my head as a sign of respect. The thoughts of the creature watching our every more slightly unnerves me but I know there is nothing I can do about it. As good of a warrior I feel that I am, the thoughts of taking on a fight to the death with a dragon scares me. Even though it is a small dragon, or a drake, as I have come to hear the younger dragons are called, it still has a mouth large enough to fit my entire body in it. I had heard that dragons never stop growing and for a beast that can live forever, I shudder at the thoughts of just how large some of them are. With Alduin dead, Paarthurnax, now the oldest of all dragons because the dragon has lived in hiding all this time, is now the most monstrous sized dragon of them all. Because of their immense size, it makes me have huge respect for the Dragonborn High King. For all of my strength thanks to my beast blood, my strength is nothing compared to that of the dragonborn if he can kill a dragon. He is now a role model for all Nords.

“They make you nervous, don’t they?” Aela says, shaking me from my thoughts.

“How did you know what I was thinking about?” I ask.

“You are easy to read. To anyone that pays attention.”

“Well”, I reply, “I’m flattered that you watch me that closely.”

“Psst” she spits, “Oh please. You wish Ice-brain.”

I turn my head to glare at her, “You know I hate that name. But insult me all you want, you know I got you. You like me me and we both know it.”

No sooner the words escape my mouth, I wish I hadn’t have opened my mouth. I don’t think Aela figured that I would be able to twist her words around to the hidden truth.

“Hmph.” She says, “Guess you are not as dumb as I thought you were.”

The road soon forked in front of Fort Greymoor and we just continued on along the road. After a few leagues Aela asks, “So what’s your plan? Just travel the road to see if the bandits make themselves known to our presense?”

Turning to look at her while walking, “Pretty much.” I respond. “The bandits, wherever they are, will obviously have the high ground. Trying to approach them on their own territory will not go well for us. If the bandits are smart, they have lookouts and traps. All of which will not help us for trying to overtake them in good health.” Not watching where I’m walking, I stumble on a rock twisting my ankle. “Walk it off Farkas you fool, walk it off.” I tell myself. “The best we can hope for, is to see if they will show themselves to us while we travel along the way. They will either think we are hunters and try to steal any pelts or they will see us for what we are and may try to show their superior strength.”

Cough “Superior Strength!?” she says in an exaggerated offended voice, “Now I know you have lost your damned mind.”

“Oh for the love of Ysgramor woman,” I reply with a slight growl of aggravation in my voice, “I know they don’t actually have superior strength, you know they have superior strength, but THEY don’t know that. Keep up.” I continue walking while shaking my head, “And you have the nerve to call me Icebrain.”

Looking over at Aela, I see an odd flush of color rise up from her neck to her cheeks before she looks off in the opposite direction. Not sure if for the first time I managed to embarrass her or not but I let it go.

Before long, I can see the mammoths that are herded around Sleeping Tree Camp. Up on a small out-cropping overlooking the mammoth herd, I spot the lookout. Sitting down at the base of a tree sits a giant. Just thinking of the giant camp makes me hungry as one of my favorite delicacies: mammoth cheese.

Snapping me from my momentary two things happened, a large rabbit darted out from the tall grass on the other side of the road and before the rabbit could cross to the other side, Aela put an arrow through its head that also stuck in the ground on the other side, keeping the rabbit from running off.

“We at least we won’t go hungry this evening” she says.

The rabbit alerted me to something I wasn’t paying attention about. We are not longer in town, so I can pull the mask off. Closing my eyes to center myself, I open a part of me that I keep closed a lot. I relax my muscles, take a deep breathe and swallow. I feel the warmth spread throughout my body, muscles strengthen, ears pop, nose and eyes tingle. An odd sound begins to sound loudly in my ears. Scenting the air, tells me that we are downwind and that we are about to have company.

Opening my eyes, I see where Aela is crouched down to retrieve the rabbit and her arrow but she is looking off in the direction of where I am hearing and smelling our company.

Three young red wolves spring out from the tall grass. One made it completely out into the road before it realized the blunder. The other two froze at the edge of the grass. The one completely exposed hunkers down, exposes its teeth and begins to growl. The wind softly shifts now putting us up wind. Quickly, the two at the grass disappear back into the tall grass and my ears tell me they are quickly retreating. The other, determined to not be scared holds its ground, still growling. Aela stands up putting the rabbit in the pouch at her lower back, completely ignoring the young wolf. The wolf sticks its tongue out between its teeth and snapping its jaws while still growling at Aela. It does a small dart like lunge in her direction at the same time that I take a step forward. The wolves hind quarters shift around behind it putting it in an angle where it can keep an eye on both of us. The wind picks up just a bit. Aela, has finally picked up that her actions are just antagonizing the young animal and that if she keeps up, one of use will have to put it down. In the distance, a wolf howls, which causes the beast to stop its growling and perks its ears back. Another a howl in the background causes the wolf to finally settle down some, its rigid back relaxes and it turns to dart off into the tall grass and back to its family. A third loud howl rings out again, followed by two lesser howls. Aela, does a soft mocking howl while putting her arrow back in her quiver.

“They snuck up on me.” I admitted out loud to her. She cocks her head to the side with a questioning look. “I hadn’t opened my senses since we left town.”

“What do you mean, opened your senses?”

“You know,” I respond, “opening up your beast senses. Hearing, sight and smell. When I am in town, to keep from giving me away to people, I close them off.”

“Well well. You surprise me. You have gained in power. Any other abilities you can do?”

“I heal fast” I answer.

“How fast?”

My answer is cut short as an arrow strikes me right through the neck. The world starts to slow down and become hyper focused. I reach up to pull the arrow out when another arrow shoots through my arm and impales deep in my chest. I try to duck down and use my other arm when another arrow hits me right in the chest knocking me down with the fire in my chest as the arrow has pierced my heart. I see a brief glimpse of Aela in my vision before she becomes a blur. Between trying to breath, drowning in my own blood and feeling the fire in my chest and hearing my ruptured heartbeat pounding in my ears like the loud taunting of a warrior banging on their shield. I try to raise my head up off the ground when I feel a stabbing pain hit me low in the stomach, causing my back to bow before the pounding in my ears slows to almost a stop and my crappy sight goes black.

I startle back awake. The horrible stench in the air is enough to wake the dead. Seems that I have been stripped of everything and thrown into a pit of long dead things. Blinking my eyes a few times my sight adjusts to the utter darkness. The smell is bad enough that it makes me puke a couple of times. The sight is even worse. Partially rotted corpses of killed animals, entrails, mutilated people, spilled organs and fluids. Maggots everywhere. Everywhere but on me. Only the insects knew I wasn’t dead. Holding my hand over my nose and mouth to try and quell the stench, I try to stand up, only to have my foot slip in something and fall backwards into something wet and squishy that explodes under my weight nearly drowning me in rotted fluids and near poisonous gasses. I get up as quick as I can almost as if I had strings attached to me. Besides puking again, coughing and spitting the vile stuff up I also have to dig the nasty stinging gunk out of my eyes.

This isn’t the first time I have been left for dead but this is by far the worst place I have woken up in. A room for of piss, shit and rotting corpses. If I make it out of this, it will be the first time I gladly let that old crone, Tilma, give me a bath.

Holding my breath and holding my nose, I look above me letting my eyes focus in the complete darkness. There far above me, I see it, the narrow opening at the top of the pit. Quickly looking around, I see that am in a fairly large pit. In the center, is the largest pile of the dumped carcasses. Even if I climbed up the center pile, it still would not be high enough for me to jump to the top of the cavern. Surveying the walls show a lot of rough formations, out-croppings and ridges. Maneuvering as best as I can through the macabre chamber. After a couple of stumbles, I finally manage to lay my hands on the cavern wall. I don’t make it very far up the wall before I slip and fall back into the mess again. The cavern wall seems to curve inward in on itself, which will make this the most challenging climb of my life. Again, being as careful as I can I manage to climb to where I’m practically hanging upside down from the top of the cavern when my foot slips and part of the cavern wall crumbles in my hand grip.

Anger grips me because of the situational challenge I’m facing plus my own carelessness at rushing things. My patience is not my strongest trait and I can’t take a deep breath to help calm myself as the putrid smell is just soo nauseating. Springing back to my feet I begin another attempt only to slip off the wall within two steps. This time when my foot slipped, I ripped the toenail off. Falling down, I cradle my foot, my eyes begin to water and I yell out in soft pain that turns into an odd growl/howl as my anger turns into rage. Trying to control my rage before it brings upon my change, I slam my arm against the cavern wall. The sudden jarring pain of breaking my wrist helps calm me down. However, I look over and notice that the cavern wall has crumbled where my arm impacted. Thinking past my pain I stand up, close my eyes and center myself for the thought that now pops in my head. Taking a deep breathe only chokes me and my fist darts out slamming into the cavern wall, making a bloody hole. Pulling my hand free I shake my broken hand as I begin to feel the normal tingling as my hand heals. Wait a moment, I feel my hand has healed, I use it in the new hole to pull myself up a step. My other fist darts out, slamming into the cavern wall. Another hole and another broken hand. Taking my time, one broken hand after another, concentrating on just the task. The former hand holes now make good holes to put my feet into to help keep my grip and balance even while soon hanging completely upside-down.

Minutes or maybe hours have flown by, I can’t tell which due to my concentration, when I realize, I have finally reached the vertical shaft that leads to the top. Sticking one hand up into the shaft, I find a ledge to grab a hold of. Pulling one foot out and taking a careful step forward while reaching forward. The surface crumbles under my hand causing me to twist and fall backwards to wind up hanging by one foot, wedged in a hole now twisted and broken. Yelling out in pain, this new pain however doesn’t squelch my rage but unleashes it. I don’t want to change but I can feel my body, stretch, pop and begin to reshape itself. My arms and fingers lengthen, fingernails grow into long claws. The shift begins to cause my lodged foot to swell and become pinched in the hole. Panic sets in about causing more damage to my foot. Something happened. That sudden onset of panic ... on top of the additional pain ... stopped the change. Looking up at the cave roof, I see one of the other holes and stick my foot into it and reach up with one of my elongated arms, claws sinking into the rock wall. The one part about the change I have always been jealous about is how much stronger my fingernails and toenails are when in beast form. Strong as steel with the ability to slice through rock and wood like cheese. Hmmm, Cheese.

Reaching back up into the cavern shaft, I get a better hold and pull myself up into the shaft. I see now what happened. The entire shaft is covered in crusted over shell of hardened bodily fluids and other nastiness. Yuck. I so want a bath. The partial change has also brought about my stronger bones, enhanced strength, healing and stamina. It has also brought on something else. A hunger. The hunger I can control. Its been a long time since that has ever ruled me. I know how to use it as the ultimate driving force. The hunger is the greatest motivator. The hunger can be channeled into other forms. The animalistic instincts to survive the fight, to eat and/or to mate.

The distance, clawing my way up the shaft goes by very quickly, pounding/clawing my way out. Having climbed my way out and stand on the top of the cave floor that leads to the shithole I just clawed myself out of. This part of the cave is still dark so it must be a section that is only used when needed. The floor leading up to the pit is stained in darkened, dried blood that has filled in the cracks making the surface smooth on my naked feet. Scenting the air as best as I can overtop of the gunk I am covered in and the nastiness behind me, I am unable to detect anyone or anything. But then again, the air is still so heavy with the smell. Seeing how I cannot hear or smell anyone within the close proximity of me, I close my eyes and try to swallow down my beast. No need to raise an alarm and out myself. Just like how I can cause myself to shift forms at will, trying to force myself to shift back. My feet, legs, arms, I all feel them collapsing back into form. However, I try my best to stop my hands. Looking down, I see where my fingers are still elongated with claws. Until I get my gear back, I’m gonna have to resort to what I can.

Walking down the curved cavern hallway leads to a constructed wooden spiral staircase that travels around the outside of the chamber leaving it hollowed out in the center. Looking up the chamber, I can see the glow of light up above. This staircase will prove challenging for moving stealthily. Wood creeks and pops. To the sensitive eared like Khajiit’s and elves, the noisy wood would give my presence away, seeing how stealth was never been my strongest suit. Looking closely at details, I can see that along the way, there are some stone section that stick out of the way in which the wooden staircase was built upon. If I am lucky, maybe those certain sections will allow me to travel quietly if I step only on them. Staying close to the stone wall, I take the first step, all is quiet. The next stone step is four steps up.

Using my hands I grip against the wall and kick my leg out to try and reach the next step. Legs spread as far as I have ever done so, I then using my hands on the rock wall try to push myself up on the step. Giving a lunge, pushing myself up on the next step, some sharp edges on the rock wall scrape against my stomach and one hateful edge cuts a small wound along the top of my manhood. Out of all the places to get cut, that is the one place I could have done without. I want to yell out in pain amongst other things but I have to just stand still and rigid and breathe my way past the stinging pain. Opening eyes, that I didn’t realize I had shut, I look at the next step. Lets try this again. Kicking my leg out, steading myself against the way, pushing off, almost made it, lost my momentum and had my foot land back down on the previous step, doing the splits almost. Another heave and made it.

Two down, who knows how many more to go, careful not to make it as painful as the first. Trying to stay focused, take my time just like with clawing my way out of the pit. If I keep trying to rush this all I am going to do is make myself hurt, mad and then having to deal with the change again. Deep breathe, slow and steady. On and on around I continue to slowly climb until I can finally see the top of the spiral steps and the lit chamber above. Stopping to listen, I hear what sounds like the soft crackling of a nearby fire along with something else, like maybe running water. I try to scent the air but I still have so much stink embedded in my nose that I wouldn’t be able to smell nearly anything past the rot in my nose until I can clean up and clear out my sinuses. The next step up, I am close enough to the top that I can peek into the room. Looks to be like some kind of butchering, skinning and cooking room. On the back side of the spiral staircase is a small darkened spot. Double checking that the coast is clear, I pull myself up the last bit of the rock wall out of the stairwell and dash over into the darkened spot. Standing in the darkened spot, I can feel a slight draft pushing against me.

Turning, I can see a large split in the rock wall and I can feel a strong air flow, which makes it helpful on pulling the stench and various gases given off by the rotting corpses out of the cavern from becoming a death trap. Deciding to move, I dash across to one of the large stone columns that acts as a support brace for the rock roof above. My movements happen to get the attention of caged ravens on the far wall that begin to squawk and crow. Soon a very tired looking Nord bandit emerges from a side room to look around the room and tells the birds to shut up after throwing a sprinkle of bread crumbs in each cage before turning and shuffling back into the room her came out of. The birds, being completely distracted now with the bread crumbs, I quickly sneak over to the wall near the opening the bandit walked through. Peeking around the corner, I see where he has curled back up on his side on a straw pile in the far corner in the large hallway. Peering down and flexing my fingers, I see that I still have the partially shifted fingers and retractable claws topping each fingertip. I step into the room to silence threat. Not paying any attention that my figure threw a shadow into the room where he is resting.

“Don’t forget to wash the latrine bucket out this time.” Comes the bandit’s tired voice, “I am tired of having to clean up after you guys. Fail to wash it out this time, and I am going to use it to fix the food in.” The guy begins to turn over to face me and I lunge forward before he sees me. “You understand...” Are his last words he is able to utter as I dig my claws into his neck and rip his entire throat out soaking my arm and upper body in the spray of his severed blood vessels. Eyes wide open now and locked onto my face, unable to cough or raise an alarm, he kicks for a few seconds before he stops moving completely. His eyes are still frozen in place, in utter shock and fear, I stand up, dropping the clump of flesh that used to be his neck and throat with his hot, blood still freshly dripping off my hands.

A small table off to the side has a partial loaf of bread along with a slab of cheese and a knife standing up from the table where it has been stabbed into the wooded surface. As much as I would love some food, I need to clean up first. I obviously stink so bad that as tired as the butcher might have been, he could easily smell me over everything else. Hallway continues on into it comes to a “T” junction. The pathway to the right has a heavily stained floor, which the stain leads back the way I came. So that must be how they bring big game down here. Taking the path to the left, which is a narrower path. It weaves around until I comes to a fairly good sized chamber. Off to the far wall is natural water spring that shoots out of the wall before traveling into another hole that has been covered over by a metal grating. With the coast clear, I make my way over to the water. The water is heavily cool as only mountain spring water can be. I take a deep breath and plunge myself into the frigid cold water, water that nearly takes my breath away. I have to fight my body from going into convulsions that will hurl me from these waters. Fighting past the convulsions, I start my body into movements to wash the nastiness and gunk off of me. Soaked into my hair making it a knotted clumpy mess. Trying to force the chunks of goo and unmentionables from my hair proves to be my biggest challenge. So much of a challenge, that by the time I finally seem to disentangle my hair, the rest of my body seems as clean as I can make it. Emerging from the water, I step aside and begin to wring the water from my hair as best as I can. In the midst of using my hands in such ways I pause to look at my hands. My hands, fingers and fingernails are all back to normal. Before I try anything I use my fingers to try and blow both nose nostrils out because even though I now look clean compared to how I used to look, I can still mess nastiness. Taking my time with the nasty chore, I can finally seem to breath easier without any lingering reminders of the haunting mess I escaped from.

Now, as cleaned as I can make myself, able to fully smell and scent the air. Now onto the next matter at hand. My gear. I don’t plan on running around bare assed naked. I cannot guarantee that I will be able to be unseen. Right now, I would just like to find some clothes and a weapon. Looking down at my hands, I flex my fingers to see if any change. Nothing. Balling up into a fist, I slowly open my hand while trying to push muscles I wanted to believe were there. Nothing. I guess it was just too good to be true, the partial shift that I was able to use earlier. I don’t have the time to waste right now trying to dwell on it. Leaving wet foot prints behind in my wake, I travel back into the room I came from to swipe the dagger and food. Taking a moment to eat a few bites I pause to look at my earlier handiwork.

Nothing on the man would fit me as I am about twice the old man’s size. That and with everything now soaked in blood, I decide to abandon that thought. Dagger in hand, I continue to make my way deeper into the cave system. Walking up to the next doorway, I look inside both with my eyes and ears. My eyes see on the left side, the hallway continues straight, to the right, a staircase that leads to an upper level, a stone staircase. My ears however recognize the sound of blacksmiths banging away with hammers. My gut tells me that going up the steps will be my best course of action. After reaching the top of the steps, I see a candle burning on a small table top. Asleep in the chair next to it, leaning back against the wall, is another bandit. A dagger lies on the table next to his snoring form with a sheathed broad sword laying across his lap. Even in sleep, a hand is gripping the hilt of the sword across his resting form. Out from him looks to be a pit where the banging of metal and workings of other things seem louder and feeling of a strong dry heat that only a metal working furnace can give off.

Sticking close to the wall, I make my way around and behind his sleeping form. Two things happen at once, I use my right hand to swipe the air, blowing out the candle, ending the immediate light and clamping my hand against his mouth, while my left pulls the dagger roughly and sharply across his throat. That wonderful warm sensation of his life’s blood splashes across my hands while doing my best to hold him still in the few pain-filled moments the man has left to live. Looking around and down into the lower room, I see where no one has paid any attention to the muffled commotion. Now in the shadows, I pear down into pit. I see about 6 guys, in various torn garb, toiling away in crafting weapons and armor, all while wearing a metal collar around their necks. Collars that are tethered by a chain to an anchor on a nearby wall. It strikes me as odd that metal workers are being held captive by their own creations. This doesn’t seem right. One asleep lookout overseeing 6 captives. Either things are more than they appear or I am missing something. I double check to see that the upper area where I am is clear before peering down into the pit. Sitting down around a small table right below me are three bandits playing cards. Two gangly looking fellows and a nasty brute of an orc.