HelloMyNameIsEd
He-Who-Killed-Ulfric-Stormcloak-With-A-Broom
It was a cool, dark night in Whiterun. Despite its name, Whiterun did not see nearly as much snow as other Holds of the province.The two great Moons were peacefully looming high in the heavens, giving off an eerie white glow. All was peaceful, with the townspeople sleeping soundly in their beds as the guards patrolled, keeping Whiterun safe under their watchful eyes.
The silent peace was broken when a door creaking open disturbed the airwaves. The door to Breezehome, the house of Whiterun's very own Thane, had just opened, revealing an Argonian clad in studded armor. He had green scales, and small curved horns over his eye ridges, much like human eyebrows. Two larger horns that curved slightly, which looked like a Dragon's horns, sprouted out from his head. Dark red war paint went over his golden eyes, which seemed to glow in the dark.
Archer shivered slightly as he exited the house; he still wasn't used to the ever-present chill of Skyrim. He stepped out, and closed the door behind him silently. He began to walk towards the direction of he Companions Mead Hall known as Jorrvaskr.
He had joined the Companions a while back, in hopes of improving his sword fighting skills and getting some money on the side. He had already become known throughout the Companions well enough, and the Circle had already initiated him. However, things went beyond that, even.
Skjor, one of the most respected members of the Companions, had recently told him to meet him at the Companions Underforge, underneath the Skyforge, where the legendary forge that made the Companions' weapons was located. Skjor told him it was going to be a sort of gift. But what kind of gift does one have to wait until the dead of night to receive in a secluded and secretive place?
Before he knew it, the Mead Hall was in front of him. He kept walking, but then, he suddenly stopped. He whirled around and unsheathed his sword and axe, scanning the area.
"Whoever it is, come out now, and I won't harm you," he said, speaking to an unseen person.
A figure emerged from behind the Gildergreen tree, clad in fitting steel armor. They carried a steel shield and a steel sword to accompany it.
"Lydia?" Archer said, mildly surprised. "Is that you?"
The figure nodded, and stepped closer. He couldn't see much of her face, but he knew it was her.
"What are you doing here?" he asked her.
"I wanted to know what you were up to," she said.
"Well it's none of your concern," he said, "so leave. Go back home, now."
She shook her head. "I cannot do that, My Thane."
He raised an eyebrow. "And why not?" he asked, in a slightly irritated tone.
"It is my duty to stay by and protect you," she said. "I'm not very comfortable with you going in the middle of the night to...this place," she added, motioning towards the direction of the alleged Underforge.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You mean you don't trust the Companions?" he said. She didn't say anything, or even shake her head.
"Lydia," he began, "These aren't just a group of mercenaries. They're a good bunch, and they're my friends. How could you think that they'd hurt me after all this time?" he asked.
"I'm just worried for you," was her answer. He sighed.
"Lydia, I'm thankful for your concern," he said, "but these people are my friends. I trust them, and you should too."
She sighed too, and said "Very well, Thane. I won't follow you. You have my word," she said, turning around. "Just please be careful."
She didn't walk away and leave. She just stood there, facing away from him. He turned around, and took a backwards glance at her, before walking towards the Underforge.
One short walk later, he saw a Nord man dressed in unique Wolf armor. His stature was strong, and he had a visible scar that went across his eye, which was a milky white, indication that it was blind. The man turned to Archer, but only watched as the Argonian approached him.
"Are you prepared for what you will recieve?" asked Skjor.
Archer nodded once. Skjor turned around, and pressed a secret button on the stone wall behind him, revealing a secret room. Skjor entered, and Archer followed him. He door sheathed itself as Archer entered. He looked ahead, and observed the room: there was a low stony ceiling, stony walls, a birdbath-like structure, a vicious-looking werewolf... Archer nearly leapt out of his skin when he saw the Werewolf.
He reached for his sword, but Skjor stopped him, saying "I trust that you would still recognize Aela in her Beast Form," he said. Archer looked back at the hulking beast in shock, releasing the grip on his weapon as he did so. This creature was the bronze-haired hunter he had become acquainted with?
"What is it exactly that you wish to give me?" Archer asked.
"You've been initiated into the Circle, but you won't be a full part of our group until you accept our gift," he said. "As has been revealed to you, the members of the Circle have the Beast Blood within them, a gift from the Daedric Lord Hircine. With it, we can turn into a more powerful form: a werewolf."
"You're going to make me into a werewolf?" Archer asked. This was certainly a very unique gift, and would be bound to make him more powerful than before.
"Yes. You would be able to fight better, run faster, and overpower any opponent. You would be the ultimate hunter," he said, "lest you choose to not accept his gift.
"And if I say no?" Archer asked. Skjor shrugged.
"If you don't accept, we'll understand, but you won't be considered officially part of the Circle until you accept this gift."
These promises of power, and enhanced natural abilities, they would surely help him finish his duties as Dovahkiin sooner, but at what cost? None that he could currently see. Plus, he'd finally become warmly accepted into the Companions Circle. How could he say no?
"I'll do it."
Skjor nodded once in affirmation, before taking out a steel dagger. He walked over to Beast-Aela, and grabbed her arm. He placed the arm over the birdbath-like structure in the center of the room, and then placed the dagger to her arm. He slashed her arm, enough to cause blood to pour into the bowl. When the blood level was at an appropriate level, Skjor removed her arm from the bowl. Aela's werewolf body would regenerate lost skin and blood sooner than a normal human, so Archer wasn't concerned about that. What he WAS concerned about, however, was why Skjor had filled the bowl with Aela's blood.
"Do I dare ask what that was for?" Archer asked.
"In order to give you lycanthropy, you must drink the blood from a willing forebear."
Archer's eye ridges rose in surprise. He had to DRINK her blood? He had once bitten an Orc Bandit's throat in a last-ditch effort to kill him, and he had gotten a taste of blood, which he didn't like at all. Now he was expected to drink it?
"Will this even work for me?" Archer asked, eyeing the ominous-looking liquid before pulling his eyes away from it to look at Skjor. "I mean, I AM an Argonian; wouldn't the blood's effect be repelled?"
"We wouldn't know," Skjor said, "We haven't really had an Argonian in the Companions before, much less in the very Circle. But it's worth a try, isn't it?"
"But I'm not exactly warm-blooded, like werewolves are," Archer said, trying to stall himself from having to drink a full bowl of blood.
"Look, we've never had to do this to an Argonian before," Skjor said, "so we don't know. Now hurry up, before we take back our gift."
Archer looked back at the blood, all dark red and stagnant. It was sickening just looking at it. He walked over to it, and looked at it more closely.
"Do I have to drink all of it?" Archer asked.
Skjor sighed with impatience. "Just enough for the gift to take effect. Now be a good boy and drink the blood."
Archer looked at the bowl one last time, before hesitantly bending over it. He supported himself with one hand on the rim of the bowl, while the other slowly scooped up the red substance. He blood was still warm from its previous owner. He shut his eyes in anticipation, and poured some into his mouth. He nearly gagged at the iron-like bitter flavor of the blood, but he swallowed.
He opened his eyes, and looked at his body. He had green scales, two horns on his head, and a scaly tail. He had not changed a bit.
"Ehm, Archer," he heard Skjor say. He lifted his head to look at he Nord. "You might want to drink a little more, perhaps?"
Archer looked disdainfully at the blood, but he bent over and scooped another handful of the stuff into his mouth, which he swallowed as well. The last scoop did it; he felt his mind getting assaulted, and his thoughts began to morph into other thoughts, about hunting, killing, and blood. His body joints cracked as they morphed and changed to accustom his new body.
He began to hiss in discomfort, but the hissing soon turned into growling. Aela and Skjor watched expectantly, the transformation going exactly as was expected. However, things suddenly began to go awry. His tail was not growing black fur. Instead, it got longer, and larger. His arms grew, but they did not grow to werewolf size, and instead his claws grew much larger, and his arms were repositioned so that they were tucked closer to his body.
Aela and Skjor watched in amazement as Archer's werewolf transformation did not go as planned, and their expressions gradually became more surprised as more transformations occurred. His head grew, but it barely changed in terms of skull structure. Instead, his jaws seemed to bulk up, as If increasing in muscle capacity. His legs readjusted to be just like a werewolf's, but he ended up having only three toes, and one of the talons ended up growing into a wickedly sharp razor talon. His torso also shifted, but instead of being hunched over, his torso ended up being parallel to the ground. His neck grew longer, and more flexible as well. Finally, instead of having black fur all over his body, his scale plates shifted and fused together, forming tough, bumpy hide instead.
Aela and Skjor watched in shock at Archer's new form. This was not a Werewolf. This was a Wereraptor. The Wereraptor opened its golden eyes, having retained their original color, and roared loudly.
...
Lydia sighed as she sat on the bench in front of the Gildergreen, thinking about her Thane. It was wrong to have done what she did, sneaking out and spying on her Thane. She trusted him, but she wasn't sure of those Companions.
Ever since he joined them, she wasn't able to perform her duties and be around him. But he trusted them, so why shouldn't she? It had taken a while for him to have gotten used to her, and longer for her to be considered his friend. She hoped that her intrusion into his matters wouldn't make him like her any less.
She did like him, and she was happy that she was his friend. It had taken a while, and she didn't want to have to rebuild relationships. Her concern was mostly from the call of duty, as every Housecarl had it, but part of it was as a friend, someone who cared. Who knows what kind of "gift" they'd be giving him inside a secluded area? Her thoughts were cut short as a ferocious roar sounded.
Her head shot up, and looked around. The roar was muffled greatly, but it was unmistakably a roar. A loud one at that. There were no guards around to hear it, they were all conveniently patrolling another area. Another road was heard, still muffled, but it was coming from Jorrvaskr. From where Archer was.
Wasting no time, she ran towards Jorrvaskr, unsheathing her sword, in order to save her Thane. She looked around, but saw nothing. That is, until a large reptilian creature bounded into view. It had come out from behind a large rock, and was looking around, sniffing the air heavily. When it's gaze focused on her, her eyes went wide with fear. She might have screamed, if she wasn't completely frozen in fear as the beast of midnight looked at her. Wait a minute, she thought. Those eyes... They were gold, and they seemed to be glowing. Inside the black slits that were it's pupils, she almost swore she could see something powerful burn inside it. She gasped, and finally realized that this thing...was Archer.
The Wereraptor growled lowly at her, which sounded like a mix between a feral growl and a hiss. Just then, another Nord man wearing strange armor stepped out, along with...a Werewolf? What was going on here?!
"Hey! Over here!" Skjor said, banging his shield with his Skyforge Steel sword once. The werewolf growled, baring it's yellowing fangs. The Wereraptor turned to meet the duo, and snarled. The werewolf pounced, landing on the Wereraptor. The reptilian creature toppled over, but got its leg underneath its mammalian counterpart, and used its powerful legs to easily kick off the muscle-bound wolf. It got up, and rushed at Skjor. The Nord man dove out of the way, avoiding the incoming beast. Archer, instead of turning to attack him again, kept running, and leaped over the stone wall. Once outside, Archer continued running, out towards the plains bordering Whiterun, towards the woods.
The werewolf snarled, and ran after the Wereraptor, jumping over the walls in a similar manner. Skjor got up, and looked at the diminishing forms, before turning to Lydia.
"Are you alright?" he asked. She only looked at him.
"What did you DO to him?!" she questioned, clearly scared and very angry.
"We...made him into a werewolf...?" Skjor said in an unsure tone.
"Oh no, that is NOT a werewolf. A werewolf doesn't look like a giant lizard! He's...he's...I don't even know what he is!" she exclaimed in despair.
"Neither do I," said Skjor. Then, the Nord man sheathed his sword, and ran off, vaulting over the wall before running towards the direction of where the two beasts were last seen.
The silent peace was broken when a door creaking open disturbed the airwaves. The door to Breezehome, the house of Whiterun's very own Thane, had just opened, revealing an Argonian clad in studded armor. He had green scales, and small curved horns over his eye ridges, much like human eyebrows. Two larger horns that curved slightly, which looked like a Dragon's horns, sprouted out from his head. Dark red war paint went over his golden eyes, which seemed to glow in the dark.
Archer shivered slightly as he exited the house; he still wasn't used to the ever-present chill of Skyrim. He stepped out, and closed the door behind him silently. He began to walk towards the direction of he Companions Mead Hall known as Jorrvaskr.
He had joined the Companions a while back, in hopes of improving his sword fighting skills and getting some money on the side. He had already become known throughout the Companions well enough, and the Circle had already initiated him. However, things went beyond that, even.
Skjor, one of the most respected members of the Companions, had recently told him to meet him at the Companions Underforge, underneath the Skyforge, where the legendary forge that made the Companions' weapons was located. Skjor told him it was going to be a sort of gift. But what kind of gift does one have to wait until the dead of night to receive in a secluded and secretive place?
Before he knew it, the Mead Hall was in front of him. He kept walking, but then, he suddenly stopped. He whirled around and unsheathed his sword and axe, scanning the area.
"Whoever it is, come out now, and I won't harm you," he said, speaking to an unseen person.
A figure emerged from behind the Gildergreen tree, clad in fitting steel armor. They carried a steel shield and a steel sword to accompany it.
"Lydia?" Archer said, mildly surprised. "Is that you?"
The figure nodded, and stepped closer. He couldn't see much of her face, but he knew it was her.
"What are you doing here?" he asked her.
"I wanted to know what you were up to," she said.
"Well it's none of your concern," he said, "so leave. Go back home, now."
She shook her head. "I cannot do that, My Thane."
He raised an eyebrow. "And why not?" he asked, in a slightly irritated tone.
"It is my duty to stay by and protect you," she said. "I'm not very comfortable with you going in the middle of the night to...this place," she added, motioning towards the direction of the alleged Underforge.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You mean you don't trust the Companions?" he said. She didn't say anything, or even shake her head.
"Lydia," he began, "These aren't just a group of mercenaries. They're a good bunch, and they're my friends. How could you think that they'd hurt me after all this time?" he asked.
"I'm just worried for you," was her answer. He sighed.
"Lydia, I'm thankful for your concern," he said, "but these people are my friends. I trust them, and you should too."
She sighed too, and said "Very well, Thane. I won't follow you. You have my word," she said, turning around. "Just please be careful."
She didn't walk away and leave. She just stood there, facing away from him. He turned around, and took a backwards glance at her, before walking towards the Underforge.
One short walk later, he saw a Nord man dressed in unique Wolf armor. His stature was strong, and he had a visible scar that went across his eye, which was a milky white, indication that it was blind. The man turned to Archer, but only watched as the Argonian approached him.
"Are you prepared for what you will recieve?" asked Skjor.
Archer nodded once. Skjor turned around, and pressed a secret button on the stone wall behind him, revealing a secret room. Skjor entered, and Archer followed him. He door sheathed itself as Archer entered. He looked ahead, and observed the room: there was a low stony ceiling, stony walls, a birdbath-like structure, a vicious-looking werewolf... Archer nearly leapt out of his skin when he saw the Werewolf.
He reached for his sword, but Skjor stopped him, saying "I trust that you would still recognize Aela in her Beast Form," he said. Archer looked back at the hulking beast in shock, releasing the grip on his weapon as he did so. This creature was the bronze-haired hunter he had become acquainted with?
"What is it exactly that you wish to give me?" Archer asked.
"You've been initiated into the Circle, but you won't be a full part of our group until you accept our gift," he said. "As has been revealed to you, the members of the Circle have the Beast Blood within them, a gift from the Daedric Lord Hircine. With it, we can turn into a more powerful form: a werewolf."
"You're going to make me into a werewolf?" Archer asked. This was certainly a very unique gift, and would be bound to make him more powerful than before.
"Yes. You would be able to fight better, run faster, and overpower any opponent. You would be the ultimate hunter," he said, "lest you choose to not accept his gift.
"And if I say no?" Archer asked. Skjor shrugged.
"If you don't accept, we'll understand, but you won't be considered officially part of the Circle until you accept this gift."
These promises of power, and enhanced natural abilities, they would surely help him finish his duties as Dovahkiin sooner, but at what cost? None that he could currently see. Plus, he'd finally become warmly accepted into the Companions Circle. How could he say no?
"I'll do it."
Skjor nodded once in affirmation, before taking out a steel dagger. He walked over to Beast-Aela, and grabbed her arm. He placed the arm over the birdbath-like structure in the center of the room, and then placed the dagger to her arm. He slashed her arm, enough to cause blood to pour into the bowl. When the blood level was at an appropriate level, Skjor removed her arm from the bowl. Aela's werewolf body would regenerate lost skin and blood sooner than a normal human, so Archer wasn't concerned about that. What he WAS concerned about, however, was why Skjor had filled the bowl with Aela's blood.
"Do I dare ask what that was for?" Archer asked.
"In order to give you lycanthropy, you must drink the blood from a willing forebear."
Archer's eye ridges rose in surprise. He had to DRINK her blood? He had once bitten an Orc Bandit's throat in a last-ditch effort to kill him, and he had gotten a taste of blood, which he didn't like at all. Now he was expected to drink it?
"Will this even work for me?" Archer asked, eyeing the ominous-looking liquid before pulling his eyes away from it to look at Skjor. "I mean, I AM an Argonian; wouldn't the blood's effect be repelled?"
"We wouldn't know," Skjor said, "We haven't really had an Argonian in the Companions before, much less in the very Circle. But it's worth a try, isn't it?"
"But I'm not exactly warm-blooded, like werewolves are," Archer said, trying to stall himself from having to drink a full bowl of blood.
"Look, we've never had to do this to an Argonian before," Skjor said, "so we don't know. Now hurry up, before we take back our gift."
Archer looked back at the blood, all dark red and stagnant. It was sickening just looking at it. He walked over to it, and looked at it more closely.
"Do I have to drink all of it?" Archer asked.
Skjor sighed with impatience. "Just enough for the gift to take effect. Now be a good boy and drink the blood."
Archer looked at the bowl one last time, before hesitantly bending over it. He supported himself with one hand on the rim of the bowl, while the other slowly scooped up the red substance. He blood was still warm from its previous owner. He shut his eyes in anticipation, and poured some into his mouth. He nearly gagged at the iron-like bitter flavor of the blood, but he swallowed.
He opened his eyes, and looked at his body. He had green scales, two horns on his head, and a scaly tail. He had not changed a bit.
"Ehm, Archer," he heard Skjor say. He lifted his head to look at he Nord. "You might want to drink a little more, perhaps?"
Archer looked disdainfully at the blood, but he bent over and scooped another handful of the stuff into his mouth, which he swallowed as well. The last scoop did it; he felt his mind getting assaulted, and his thoughts began to morph into other thoughts, about hunting, killing, and blood. His body joints cracked as they morphed and changed to accustom his new body.
He began to hiss in discomfort, but the hissing soon turned into growling. Aela and Skjor watched expectantly, the transformation going exactly as was expected. However, things suddenly began to go awry. His tail was not growing black fur. Instead, it got longer, and larger. His arms grew, but they did not grow to werewolf size, and instead his claws grew much larger, and his arms were repositioned so that they were tucked closer to his body.
Aela and Skjor watched in amazement as Archer's werewolf transformation did not go as planned, and their expressions gradually became more surprised as more transformations occurred. His head grew, but it barely changed in terms of skull structure. Instead, his jaws seemed to bulk up, as If increasing in muscle capacity. His legs readjusted to be just like a werewolf's, but he ended up having only three toes, and one of the talons ended up growing into a wickedly sharp razor talon. His torso also shifted, but instead of being hunched over, his torso ended up being parallel to the ground. His neck grew longer, and more flexible as well. Finally, instead of having black fur all over his body, his scale plates shifted and fused together, forming tough, bumpy hide instead.
Aela and Skjor watched in shock at Archer's new form. This was not a Werewolf. This was a Wereraptor. The Wereraptor opened its golden eyes, having retained their original color, and roared loudly.
...
Lydia sighed as she sat on the bench in front of the Gildergreen, thinking about her Thane. It was wrong to have done what she did, sneaking out and spying on her Thane. She trusted him, but she wasn't sure of those Companions.
Ever since he joined them, she wasn't able to perform her duties and be around him. But he trusted them, so why shouldn't she? It had taken a while for him to have gotten used to her, and longer for her to be considered his friend. She hoped that her intrusion into his matters wouldn't make him like her any less.
She did like him, and she was happy that she was his friend. It had taken a while, and she didn't want to have to rebuild relationships. Her concern was mostly from the call of duty, as every Housecarl had it, but part of it was as a friend, someone who cared. Who knows what kind of "gift" they'd be giving him inside a secluded area? Her thoughts were cut short as a ferocious roar sounded.
Her head shot up, and looked around. The roar was muffled greatly, but it was unmistakably a roar. A loud one at that. There were no guards around to hear it, they were all conveniently patrolling another area. Another road was heard, still muffled, but it was coming from Jorrvaskr. From where Archer was.
Wasting no time, she ran towards Jorrvaskr, unsheathing her sword, in order to save her Thane. She looked around, but saw nothing. That is, until a large reptilian creature bounded into view. It had come out from behind a large rock, and was looking around, sniffing the air heavily. When it's gaze focused on her, her eyes went wide with fear. She might have screamed, if she wasn't completely frozen in fear as the beast of midnight looked at her. Wait a minute, she thought. Those eyes... They were gold, and they seemed to be glowing. Inside the black slits that were it's pupils, she almost swore she could see something powerful burn inside it. She gasped, and finally realized that this thing...was Archer.
The Wereraptor growled lowly at her, which sounded like a mix between a feral growl and a hiss. Just then, another Nord man wearing strange armor stepped out, along with...a Werewolf? What was going on here?!
"Hey! Over here!" Skjor said, banging his shield with his Skyforge Steel sword once. The werewolf growled, baring it's yellowing fangs. The Wereraptor turned to meet the duo, and snarled. The werewolf pounced, landing on the Wereraptor. The reptilian creature toppled over, but got its leg underneath its mammalian counterpart, and used its powerful legs to easily kick off the muscle-bound wolf. It got up, and rushed at Skjor. The Nord man dove out of the way, avoiding the incoming beast. Archer, instead of turning to attack him again, kept running, and leaped over the stone wall. Once outside, Archer continued running, out towards the plains bordering Whiterun, towards the woods.
The werewolf snarled, and ran after the Wereraptor, jumping over the walls in a similar manner. Skjor got up, and looked at the diminishing forms, before turning to Lydia.
"Are you alright?" he asked. She only looked at him.
"What did you DO to him?!" she questioned, clearly scared and very angry.
"We...made him into a werewolf...?" Skjor said in an unsure tone.
"Oh no, that is NOT a werewolf. A werewolf doesn't look like a giant lizard! He's...he's...I don't even know what he is!" she exclaimed in despair.
"Neither do I," said Skjor. Then, the Nord man sheathed his sword, and ran off, vaulting over the wall before running towards the direction of where the two beasts were last seen.
