Wyldfyre

Yeah... he has the innocence of a little kid

Over 8000 views.. I love you guys

>_> wheres the post kitty-woman?!?

I haz not wrote it yet.

CHAPTER EIGHTY FOUR: SAVING RAVEN ROCK


Exploration of Raven Rock the next day led Wyldfyre and Azaril to an ancient stone structure that stood southwest from the settlement. Wyldfyre had made some astonishing and exciting discoveries that morning. The first one was from the Smith. She had approached him and asked if he could make her some more crossbow bolts. The first time he spoke to her she recognised his voice but she couldn’t think of why.

“Do I know you?” she said to him as he examined the bolt in his large Smith’s hands.

“Can’t say that I do love” he said “I would have remembered a stunning lass like you” he gave her a wink and placed the bolt on a workbench, measuring it with his hands. Wyldfyre moved around to the other side to watch what he was doing.

“Your voice, it’s just so familiar” she squinted at him “Now that I look at you, you even look familiar. Do you have family in Skyrim?”

“Well yes I do as a matter of fact. My err.. brother Delvin, lives in Riften”. Wyldfyre’s face broke out into a grin.

“Oh! Delvin Mallory! I know him; he’s a good friend of mine.” The smith straightened up and smiled also.

“Is that so? How is the old sod? Still a sneaky scoundrel living down in that sewer?” he laughed.

“He is, to both” Wyldfyre laughed to. “He helped me in a time of trouble. He’s not a bad guy”

“Indeed he is not” The smith nodded sombrely, making Wyldfyre wonder what had suddenly changed his mood. Then he stuck out his hand and Wyldfyre shook it. “Glover Mallory’s the name. You need anything while you’re here, just name it”

“Thank you Glover. For the moment, all I need is some more of those” she pointed to the bolt.

“This should be no problem at all. I’ll even give you Guild rates” he winked. When Wyldfyre questioned him about Miraak a confused expression filled his face.

“Miraak.. can’t say that I... wait, no I do remember that name, but how?” he shook his head then continued working on the bolt. Wyldfyre looked at Azaril who shrugged. They then made their way to the stone structure. Azaril explained what it was while they walked along the shore line.

“There are six of them here on Solstheim..I think. They are known as the Sacred Stones or the All-Maker Stones” Wyldfyre stopped, placing a hand on his arm.

“The All-Maker Stones?” she asked, excitedly.

“The name familiar to you my Lady?”

“Yes, yes! The All-Maker was my people’s deity. The All-Maker is the source of all life and creation. Azaril, why are stones on Solstheim connected to me and my people? Who built them?”

“I don’t really know. But I think they are connected to the tribe I told you about. The Skaal. They are an ancient Nordic race that stayed behind on the Island after it was handed over to the elves. They live and breathe tradition. Do you think your village were Skaal?”

“It does seem more and more so my friend” they continued walking to the stone, Wyldfyre now more eager than ever to find the Skaal tribe. As they approached the structure, she immediately sensed something was wrong. An evil presence emanated from the stone, drawing her in. She resisted as hard as she could. A few dark elves were working on the stone; their movements odd and mechanical.

“What are they doing?” she frowned. The Dunmer appeared to be in some sort of trance as they worked away, hammering at the rock. They didn’t appear to be building anything, just tapping at the stone and muttering.

“I was never really privy to what Miraak and his higher priests were doing My Lady” Azaril replied, embarrassed. “What I do know is that somehow Miraak draws people to these stones and sort of brainwashes them.. like I was” he shifted uncomfortably.

“You mean this is happening at the other stones all over the island?” she asked her eyes widening in horror. “These poor people! We have to help them Azaril!” Wyldfyre rushed forward to the nearest dunmer, a female wearing miners clothing. She tapped at the stone with a small iron hammer.

“Hey” Wyldfyre shook the dunmer’s arm “Wake up!”

“Here in His Shrine..” the dark elf muttered. She looked at Wyldfyre but her eyes were unseeing. Wyldfyre shook her again.

“Miss, you have to wake up, get away from this stone! Azaril help me!” she cried over her shoulder. But Azaril stayed put.

“It’s no use My Lady” he sadly shook his head.

“Now through Him do we see” the woman continued on with her stoic muttering, devoid of any sort of emotion. Wyldfyre tried to rouse the other helpless slaves but none of them even acknowledged her presence. She finally stood back with Azaril, defeated.

“It’s no use. I can’t even get a reaction from them. We have to find another way to break the stone’s hold on them.”

“I was trying to tell you My Lady” Azaril said gently. Wyldfyre nodded and they reluctantly turned back towards Raven Rock. As they walked along the shore Wyldfyre was thoughtful.

“That girl, the miner? Did you know her?”

“Indeed I do” Azaril nodded sadly. “Her name is Bralsa Drel. She was once a lady of great riches here in Raven Rock, but then when the mine closed she fell on hard times. Took it badly I’m afraid and drank most of her fortune away. It’s tragic what has happened to her”

“The mine is closed?”

“Yes, there was some sort of accident in there and the East Empire Company closed it down. So far they have refused to re-open it, even though it’s this town’s primary livelihood. The whole town has suffered greatly, not just poor Bralsa.”

“Why can’t they re-open the mine?”

“I don’t think they can’t so to speak. I just don’t think they could be bothered sending someone out here to investigate the incident, give the go ahead to re-open and get this town back on its feet”

“It just doesn’t seem right; having a whole town go to ruin.” She stopped at the beginning of the market square. Venders sat outside their squat little houses selling their wares, desperate for any coin they could rake in. Wyldfyre’s heart went out to them. She had the strongest feeling she needed to help them. To rid the island of its slavery under this Miraak and his minions, and to get their mine opened.

“Right then” she made up her mind. “Azaril, show me to this mine. It’s time something got done about this”

“Yes My Lady!” Azaril grinned.

Raven Rock mine was like any other; deep, dark and treacherous. Wyldfyre and Azaril had found the mine deserted except for an old Imperial miner and his Dunmer wife. After a lot of talking, Wyldfyre had found out that the accident in question involved the old man’s Great Grandfather. She was surprised at first that the accident had happened so long ago, but then realised that dealing with the Dunmer, an Elvin race that aged considerably slower than other folk, time was not really relevant. The old Imperial, Crescius, was convinced that his kin had met with foul play when he was sent by the East Empire Company to investigate some old ruins the miners had stumbled upon.

Wyldfyre and Azaril had descended into the depths of the mine, crawling through half collapsed tunnels and even fighting off a small nest of frostbite spiders. When they unlocked the gate that had for so long barred the way they found themselves inside a Nordic ruin.

“Curious” Azaril commented as they made their way further into the ruins, encountering Draugr and the usual traps of the Nordic ruin. Wyldfyre was beginning to wonder why all the Draugr were awakened again. It usually meant something big was at the end. She voiced her concerns to Azaril. He gripped his sword tighter and puffed out his chest a little, trying to look impressive.

“Don’t fear My Lady. I can protect you from whatever evil lurks in these depths” Wyldfyre had to hide a smile as the young Dunmer strode forward. The going was somewhat difficult, the draugr in the ruin eager to face their living enemies. Both Wyldfyre and Azaril were at times hard pressed. Wyldfyre in particular had a hard time not succumbing to her beast instincts and changing into her Were form. She used her shouts whenever possible, especially against a more formidable foe. She was still astonished that all of the shouts she knew had been amplified ever since her fight with Alduin in Sovngarde. She had to be careful now where she directed such shouts for fear of hitting Azaril.

Finally after what seemed an eternity to Wyldfyre or a mere blink of the eye to Azaril, they stepped out onto a ledge that overlooked a massive subterranean chamber. The sides of the chamber were levelled by strange black blocks that jutted upwards and down below a small river cut across the middle of the chamber. At the far end was a man made dais that looked to have an intricate stone carving on the back wall. The two friends hopped from rock to rock and descended into the chamber. As they neared the dais they discovered the fate of Crescius’s kin. Now a mere skeleton, Gratian Caerellius lay on a rotted bedroll, a mouldy old journal in his skeletal fingers. Wyldfyre and Azaril read the journal and they were both reverently quiet for a time.

“Well I guess this journal proves Crescius’s great Grandfather was right. The East Empire Company was covering this up” Wyldfyre said, closing the journal and handing it to Azaril, who stowed it in his satchel.

“Also, we have proof that Gratian did not meet with foul play at the hands of the Company, but died here after taking that sword he talked about” Azaril said.

“Yes” she nodded, searching the ground for the sword and then spying it further up the dais. It glowed with an ominous red lustre as she approached it “Azaril I found it, the Bloodskal Blade”. The elf stood beside her to peer down at the glowing greatsword as well.

“Do you think we should take it back to Raven Rock?” he looked at her.

“I’m not sure” she scratched her chin and then squatted down in front of it. It was a truly beautiful blade. Like Gratian had said, flawless. Wyldfyre’s fingers itched to touch it, to feel the weight of it in her hands. She could feel a power within its cold metal and that worried her. She grasped the hilt in her hand and stood, dragging it up with her.

“I think we should at least take it back to Raven Rock. Something this powerful just laying around for anyone to take, it’s not right”

“Also” Azaril rooted around in his satchel and pulled out Gratian’s journal again and flipped through the pages until he reached the spot he needed “Ah yes, it tells us here how to open this door to leave this chamber”
“Right” Wyldfyre turned to the intricate wall which in fact was a large door made up of huge panels that also glowed with a red hue. She gripped the greatsword in both hands and took a breath. “What do I need to do?”

“Oh Azaril, stop looking at me like that and just apply the God’s-damned salve!” Wyldfyre yelled a little too loudly. She was in pain and the Elf was having a moral dilemma. Exiting the chamber with the large glowing door had seen them into yet another chamber, this one of Nordic design and half flooded. A word wall started to chant at Wyldfyre from the back of the chamber and so she made her way towards it by skirting around the sides. Half way around though a robed skeletal figure had risen out of the water and started blasting Wyldfyre and Azaril with a powerful shock spell. The dragon priest was relentless as they jumped for cover and drew their weapons. Wyldfyre was hit with a blast of electricity that almost knocked her to the ground. It burned her skin and she had growled in anger.

They battled the Dragon Priest for ages, whittling down its power slowly until finally, with a shot from her crossbow, Wyldfyre was able to end the priest’s existence. It had disintegrated into a pile of ash, its mask falling with a metallic clatter to the ground. Wyldfyre had then stumbled her way to the word wall where she then absorbed the word, but instead of it lingering inside her, just out of reach, she instantly knew it. She had barely registered this before the pain from her injuries was too much for her, crying out, she tore off her armour before plunging into the ice cold water.

After soaking in the waters for a while she began to see reason again. And she realised that the words she had encountered since absorbing Alduin’s blood no longer needed a dragon’s soul for her to learn it. She knew the word she had learned on the peak of Ysgramor’s tomb was a shout that lent her the allegiance of nearby animals. The shout she had just taken was equally as fascinating as it was frightening. Dragon Aspectwould improve her fighting skills and her resistance to damage from her enemies. She wanted to try it but was wary of doing so. It seemed like a powerful shout for one to possess.

Soon Azaril broke her out of her revere, uncomfortably informing her that she could not soak in the frigid waters all day. He had turned away from her nakedness and she wrinkled her nose at his modesty. She had left the water and covered herself with her undershirt. The burn to the back of her thigh pained her and so she had tried to get Azaril to apply a healing salve to it. To which he vehemently refused to do, causing her outburst. But soon she sighed with relief as the cool healing crème touched her skin.

“This is highly inappropriate My Lady” Azaril said from behind her.

“Oh nonsense Azaril!” she snorted unlady-like “I am in pain and I can’t reach it, or see it, so you are my stand-in healer all right?”

“I will do it, for you, but I don’t have to like it” he said as he smeared on the salve. Wyldfyre thought about wiggling her bottom at him but decided that she couldn’t be mean to her young friend.

“I don’t know how you are going to do at Jorrvaskr. You see everyone naked there, all the time, even the men” she smirked at him as he straightened; his administrations done. Azaril swallowed.

“Don’t remind me” he rolled his eyes. “I got a shocking view of Vilkas one night down in the baths. I thought I was safe, going there so late. And for a while I was, until Vilkas strode on in and stripped in front of me” he shuddered.

“Hey!” Wyldfyre frowned at him “Vilkas and Farkas are twins remember!”

“Oh my..!” his eyes widened.. “My Lady I am so sorry, I didn’t mean.. I” he then saw the grin on her face and stopped, looking sheepish. “You jest My Lady”

“Oh Azaril, I’m only having fun. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. And don’t worry about being embarrassed. I was when I first joined the Companions” They left the chamber and wound their way through the rest of the ruins encountering no more nasty surprises. The last door to the ruin opened out onto a tower connected by two more by a network of bridges.

“Any idea where we are in relation to Raven Rock?” she asked the dunmer. Azaril peered around at the scenery and smiled.

“Yes this is Bloodskal barrow and Raven Rock is along the cost south of here. Not far really”

“Good” she nodded as they descended the towers “Let’s get that journal back to Crescius” She looked at the Bloodskal Blade hanging off Azaril’s armour. “And that blade into safe hands” As they walked along the shore line Wyldfyre noticed curious creatures that seemed to float above the water. They were odd, blobby shaped things with long tendrils and seemed to pulsate, emitting a low moaning sound. Some of them were quite large while others small. The larger ones herded around the small ones, like they were guarding them.

“What are those?” she asked Azaril.

“They are called Netch” he smiled at the creatures “Generally they are harmless, unless you provoke one, or go after one of their calves”

“Oh the small ones are their babies? How adorable!”

“Indeed” Azaril chuckled “You wouldn’t say that after you’ve had a heard of angry Netch after you. Let’s just pass them quietly and be on our way” Wyldfyre took a last look at the creatures and followed after the Dark Elf.
The reception they received once they returned to Raven Rock was overwhelming. Crescius wiped tears from his eyes after they handed over the journal. The news of the find spread through the small settlement like fire and even the councillor himself, Lleril Morvayn made an appearance to thank the pair and bestow an honorary citizenship upon Wyldfyre. The whole town gathered in the market square to celebrate. Wyldfyre joined in with the merriment for a little while before she became saddened and so slipped off quietly. She walked along the jetty and sat at the end, sighing as she saw the faint outlines of the people still working away at the All Maker stone; trapped there by Miraak until she found a way to free them.

Wyldfyre looked around and shed her clothing before slipping into the salty water. She immersed herself and pushed off from the sandy bottom and swam until her lungs almost burst. Re-surfacing she found herself far out beyond the Bulwark, the great imposing wall of stone that encircled Raven Rock to protect it. She could see up the coast and was curious as to what lay beyond the wall so she started swimming up the coast, her lean body slicing through the water. A small flicker of a camp fire inside a ruined house made her curious enough to leave the water and she crept towards an abandoned building. Her nose twitched and her senses were on alert as she approached the house. Whoever was in there left a certain familiar scent on the air. It was a Were. Wyldfyre just about turned around when a female voice called out to her from her hidden place in the darkness.


“You can stand out there or be warmed by my fire, either way I think we should talk She-wolf.”

who is the other she-wolf?!? I'm only guessing that its another wolfie

A.Auditore said:

who is the other she-wolf?!? I'm only guessing that its another wolfie

Click to expand...

I wonder who could it be..?

I have my suspicions but I could be totally wrong


and damn your cliffhangers

Excellent chapter and leaving the readers on edge! I wish I could rep you again but sadly it forbids me to do so... Either way... We need more!!!

The next few chapters will involve a character developed by my good friend Ash. She has given me her very kind permission to use her character in my fanfic and I thank her immensely. I hope I do her beautiful character justice. Please enjoy Scarlet.


CHAPTER EIGHTY FIVE: SCARLET

Wyldfyre hesitated outside the range of the woman’s fire. Her voice carried no malice or ill intent as far as she could detect. Her scent seemed pleasant enough for a female Were. She decided to throw caution to the wind and entered the house slowly.

“She-wolf?” she said “That’s the pot calling the kettle black” The woman was squatting before a small fire, feeding twigs and branches to the flames. She wore normal travellers’ clothes but apart from that her appearance was far beyond normal to Wyldfyre’s eyes. Her hair glowed in the firelight and was just as red as Wyldfyre’s, and she could see colourful swirling tattoos all over her face and body, that disappeared under her clothing. The woman looked up and a startled expression flashed across her face before she broke out into a wolfish grin.

“It’s a little chilly out to be roaming around in nothing but what you were born into this world in eh?” The woman chuckled. Wyldfyre smiled, still cautiously standing near the doorway.

“It was a nice night for a swim” she shrugged, scanning the ruined house. It was once a sturdy structure, now half burnt out and its roof caved in.

“You can come closer to the fire you know” the woman sighed. “I’m not going to attack you. And you’re not going to attack me, are you?”

“I’m not” Wyldfyre answered and moved over to sit on the opposite side of the fire, the flames casting a golden glow on her bare skin.

“Well I can honestly say that this was not how I was expecting my last night on Solstheim to end up, a hot Werewolf wandering into my camp” She winked at Wyldfyre and passed her a half drunk bottle of some sort of wine. Wyldfyre took a swig and let it warm her belly.

“I could say the same” she said passing back the bottle. The woman shook her head and urged Wyldfyre to drink more. “Thanks. So what brings you to the Island?”

“Nothing specific” she shrugged “Had something to take care of, now that it’s done I am back home to Skyrim”

“That’s where I’m from, Whiterun mainly” Wyldfyre shared as she took another drink. She studied the woman. She was stunning to look at and Wyldfyre was fascinated and just a little excited to have met another Were who was not a savage wildling or a member of her family. She wanted to know more about her but was wary of questioning her too much. So they sat and chatted idly while the night slowly took over and the moon began to rise. Wyldfyre learned the woman’s named was Scarlet. She caught Wyldfyre staring wistfully out at the moon. She tilted her head and studied the red-head with the green eyes.

“How long has it been?”

“What?” Wyldfyre turned to her.

“How long” Scarlet cocked her head towards the moon. “...has it been since you had a good run?”

“To be honest Scarlet, it’s been too long, but...” she hesitated, unsure whether to tell the woman her fears.

“But what..?” Scarlet prompted her.

“Well, I have been having a problem controlling my inner beast. I have...different blood and the mix is very volatile. That’s one of the reasons why I am here. I read about the ancient Were pack living here and I wanted to seek out their guidance. Our Alpha, our Harbinger died and I have no-one else to turn to”

“Oh you mean the Pack that live at Frostmoon Crag?”

“You’ve met them?” Wyldfyre sat up straight “What are they like? Where is this place?”

“Wait up!” Scarlet held up her hand, laughing “I can take you there tomorrow if you like”

“I thought you were leaving tomorrow?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I’ve just found something extremely interesting to keep me here a little while longer” Scarlet smiled widely, almost with a seductive arch to her eyebrow, which caused Wyldfyre to shiver. She rummaged around in a satchel and pulled out a tunic top and suede pants, tossing them over to Wyldfyre.
“Here put these on, you are driving me nuts, woman!”. It was Wyldfyre’s turn to smile wolfishly.

To say that Azaril was angry when Wyldfyre and Scarlet entered Raven Rock the next morning would be an understatement. The dark elf stormed over to the women as they entered the square, a mix of anger and relief on his face. Scarlet bristled as the Elf approached.

“Easy” Wyldfyre assured her “He is a friend, no doubt concerned as to my whereabouts last night”. Scarlet nodded and took her hand off the dagger sheathed at her side.

“My Lady!” Azaril spluttered “Where have you been? I...”

“I’m sorry my friend” Wyldfyre cut him off to avoid his dramatics “I needed a swim and I found a new friend and we were talking and well, next thing we knew it was morning”. Azaril backed off a little, slightly inveigled.

“When I found your armour on the jetty I thought the worst; that you had met with foul play” his lip quivered slightly. Wyldfyre felt instantly remorseful.

“I am truly sorry Azaril. I didn’t mean to stay out all night. Forgive me?” The Elf suddenly smiled and nodded.

“Of course My Lady. I couldn’t stay mad at you” They walked back to the Inn so that Wyldfyre could collect her armour and weapons; Azaril striding ahead of them.

“What is with the My Lady?” Scarlet whispered to Wyldfyre.

“I’ll tell you on our journey. It’s complicated”

“I guess you want an explanation then” Wyldfyre said to Scarlet as they made their way towards the craggy overhang that was home to the Were pack of Solstheim. Wyldfyre was a bundle of nerves and she decided that talking was a better way to distract her than any. She had broken the news of her and Scarlet’s journey to Azaril who nodded slowly.

“While I don’t like it, I do understand My Lady” He had looked at her with his enormous red eyes “It’s something you need to do”

“Thank you so much Azaril. And I promise I won’t stay out there for too long. We still have some serious work to do here. But this is an opportunity I can’t pass up. Scarlet knows where the pack is...”

“Do you trust her?” he had asked, peering over her shoulder at the female Were as she stood at the bar drinking heartily with the locals. Wyldfyre had studied Scarlet to. She could see how her placing so much trust in the She-wolf could be seen as foolhardy. But it was something a person not of the beast blood could never understand. It was a vibe, a feeling deep down in your belly. You just knew who your enemy was and who was your foe. It was just simpler with Weres. It was humans who were deceitful and could hold secrets from you.

“I do Azaril. Completely. You have nothing to fear from Scarlet” she chuckled then “Unless she has you in her sights.. then I suspect she is a force to be reckoned with”

“So are you”. Wyldfyre had smiled at her friend and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Be well Azaril. Until I return” She leaned down and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Good hunting My Lady” he said to her. Wyldfyre was touched that he used the old saying of her people.

“Well you don’t have to” Scarlet said then “But I’m always up for juicy stories” she bumped Wyldfyre playfully with her hip. Wyldfyre began telling her story, from the very beginning. It took the better part of the day and Scarlet listened intently, sometimes stopping her to ask a question. They travelled over the barren landscape, ravaged by the Red Mountain. Nothing seemed to grow here except for the tall pines. As they ascended into the hills the landscape took on a look that Wyldfyre was more familiar with, ash gave way to snow and soon the air was fresh and clearer to breathe.

“I’m glad we are free from the ash” Wyldfyre commented. Scarlet nodded then stopped, raising her face and sniffing the air.

“Weres” she said softly. “We are downwind from them. We’ll need to approach with caution until we are in full view”

“Lead the way” Wyldfyre indicated and Scarlet walked slowly up the slope towards the large rocky overhang. Wyldfyre could smell four Weres ahead of her. Two female and two males resided at Frostmoon camp. As they crested the slope Wyldfyre could see the camp ahead. It was a simple layout, bedrolls around a central fire. A man was tanning leather at a rack, the two females tending a spit that hung over the fire with some sort of animal hunch skewered on it. One of the females looked up and drew her dagger and advanced on the women.

“Halt Travellers!” she called out to them stopping a yard in front. “You have no business here. We mean you no harm but you need to turn around and be on your way”. Wyldfyre and Scarlet had stopped also. Scarlet held her hands out to her side, showing she was not armed and Wyldfyre copied her.

“As you can see Sister, we have no ill intent towards you and your Pack” Scarlet very carefully chose trigger words. The woman frowned and stepped closer, her nostrils flaring.

“Wait.. you are one of us, both of you?” She sheathed her dagger and smiled, walking towards them. “Forgive my abrasiveness, but was necessary”

“Understandable” Scarlet nodded and turned to Wyldfyre “See? No problem” She grinned at her. Wyldfyre breathed out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding. Her stomach was still churning nervously as the Were led them to their camp.

“Brothers, sister, we have guests. Two sisters join us at our fire.” The others stood and greeted the ladies. Then they all sat around the fire. The male with the large beard who had introduced himself as Majni spoke up and Wyldfyre assumed him to be the alpha of the pack.

“Well what brings you out here to our territory?"

“My lovely travelling companion here needed to see you” Scarlet grinned “I was just curious” she shrugged. Majni turned to Wyldfyre and studied her with his piercing yellow eyes. She squirmed under his gaze.

“You are different” he said, his head cocked to one side, nostrils flaring. He reached out and touched Wyldfyre between the eyes which shocked her but she remained still. It was a gesture she recognised from days long gone. One an Elder in her tribe would do to a younger member, to see into their very soul.

“Where do you come from?” he asked her intently. Wyldfyre found herself spilling out her entire story again. The others listened just as intently as Scarlet had but this time, no-one asked any questions. Wyldfyre found it easy to tell her story to the Frostmoon pack. It was like she was speaking to family even though they were still strangers. When she told them about her death and her time in the Hunting Grounds with Hircine they leaned forward eagerly.

“Truly, you have been blessed with a great gift Sister” Majni nodded reverently. Wyldfyre continued her story, her throat constricting when she told the pack about Kodlak’s death.

“Kodlak is dead?” Majni was saddened.

“You knew him?” Wyldfyre asked, surprised. Majni leaned back against the rock face.

“I knew of him, and the Companions and the Circle. Tell me, who is your Alpha now?” Wyldfyre felt slightly embarrassed. She felt silly saying it but she blurted it out anyway.

“I am. I am the Harbinger”. But she needn’t have worried for Majni nodded.

“It is fitting” he said and the others murmured their agreement. “But you now come seeking our guidance. You have a great turmoil swirling inside you. I can feel it.”

“Yes” Wyldfyre nodded “I need help. The mixture of blood inside me is tearing me apart. I need help in controlling it. I.. I thought you would be able to help me” she looked at all of them, including Scarlet. Her friend placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll do what I can for you” she smiled.

“We all will” Majni said then, standing. “But first, I feel the moon will soon be upon us and tonight is the night for our hunt.” He turned to the two women “Join us, let us run together”. Scarlet immediately bounced up.
“Of course we will!” But Wyldfyre was hesitant. She had not changed into her beast form for so long. While she ached to do it, she was afraid of losing herself.

“I sense your fears Sister-wolf, but do not worry. We will be there” Majni said simply. Wyldfyre looked around at the others, all of them so willing to help her, a mere stranger.

“All right” she smiled and stood, causing Scarlet to give an excited whoop.

It had been a successful hunt. Wyldfyre and Majni had together brought down a huge stag that would feed the Weres for a week. They were in high spirits as they dragged the carcass back to the camp.

“Lord Hircine looks upon you with favour” Majni had commented to Wyldfyre though her mind. She delighted in his compliment, even though she didn’t want any favours from Hircine at all. The Frostmoon pack had not been overly impressed when Wyldfyre had told them about the cleansing ritual and that Kodlak had given away his opportunity to go to the Hunting Grounds. Nor that she was mated to a Were turned human. But they respected the Harbinger’s decision and said nothing more about it. Wyldfyre in turn respected their centuries-old worship of the Daedric Prince.

“Thank you Brother” she deferred to the Alpha male, being the oldest. She wanted to adhere to their traditions as much as she could. The rest of the pack had gathered back at the camp and gave appreciative yips and howls as Wyldfyre and Majni dragged the Stag into the centre of the camp. Majni’s brother, Akar and the other female, Hjordis were given the task of tearing up the meat to feast on that night and later the rest would be prepared by their human hands for the coming week. Scarlet, still in her beast form approached Wyldfyre and licked at a wound on her face, causing Wyldfyre to give her an appreciative growl.

“It is nothing” Wyldfyre said to her. Majni changed back to his human form and the others followed his example. Scarlet threw her arm around Wyldfyre’s waist and led her to the fire where the others gathered, not bothering to put on clothes, revelling in the night’s success. They passed around a strange drink they made from fermented goats’ milk that was extremely intoxicating. As the night wore on the gathering grew more and more rowdy and soon there were boisterous hand to hand competitions and challenges between the pack and their two guests. Scarlet challenged Wyldfyre to an arm wrestle which she lost dismally due to Wyldfyre’s enhanced strength from her dragon blood.

“Hey that was not fair!” Scarlet cried, nursing her arm but laughing all the same. Majni and Akar then wrestled; the two naked men showing a frightening display of prowess. Scarlet leaned in to Wyldfyre as they sat back and watched.

“Impressive are they not?” she whispered, and then cocked her head towards the female Weres who were both sitting together getting rather cosy to one another. “Or do they take your fancy?” she nudged Wyldfyre, who watched the two women and blushed slightly as they groped each other. They were interrupted when Akar strode over. He led Hjordis back to his bedroll and took her.

“I.. I’ve never been with a woman” Wyldfyre stammered, looking away from the pair who were now rolling around in a frenzy. “Well I’ve been kissed by one but not, like that” she smiled shyly.

“Really?” Scarlet said slowly. She reached out and ran her fingers through Wyldfyre’s hair then traced her fingers slowly down her face, down her neck and across the top of her breast; her touch sending shivers through Wyldfyre’s body. The grunting from the couple was now making the hairs on her arms raise and her nether regions wet.


“There is always a first for everything” Scarlet murmured and leaned in, planting a kiss on Wyldfyre’s lips. At first Wyldfyre was startled but then gave in to the pressure of Scarlet’s soft lips urging hers open and was soon lost in the sheer pleasure of it. Scarlet tasted of the goat’s milk mead and blood and Wyldfyre felt her beast blood, dragon and wolf, stirring once again. The entire night had been an intoxicating mixture of adrenalin and exhilaration and now she wanted to give herself to her lustful side. Scarlet took Wyldfyre’s hand and led her away from the camp and they found a small clearing where they could be alone. Wyldfyre ran her hands over Scarlet’s soft skin as the two women lay entwined on the bare earth, delighting in each other’s bodies. Soon their kisses and touches became more urgent as they both craved release. They made love in the clearing, bathed in moonlight, lost in their primal urges.

oooh ooh my

A.Auditore said:

oooh ooh my

Click to expand...

That's what she said

Poor Farkas! They will have to invite him next time

oh yes poor Farkas... poor Farkas indeed *evil hands*

CHAPTER EIGHTY SIX: CALMING THE BEAST

Majni’s therapy for Wyldfyre simply involved her changing into her Were form and staying that way until he gave her permission to change back. At first she was worried about being a wolf for so long, even feeling a little silly sitting in the camp in her hulking form while the rest of them went about their daily human chores. Majni did not allow her to slip off on her own or with Scarlet, keeping a close eye on her at all times. The other members of the pack were forbidden to speak to her and she grew terribly lonely. Scarlet had the most trouble with the communication ban and she was constantly questioning Majni’s methods. Wyldfyre was even denied her continuing advances towards The Alpha and his brother. She offered herself to them each night but was ignored, the males instead taking pleasure in the other females of the pack. She was frustrated beyond measure.

Wyldfyre then began to grow angry and resentful. She was not allowed to wander, or to hunt even a single rabbit while as a Were which only served to make her agitated and restless. She could not sleep in her beast form either and she was soon exhausted. Wyldfyre began to lose any awareness she had of her former human life and soon the only thoughts in her head were of the hunt and finding a mate. She had forgotten Farkas, the Companions, everything about her life back on Skyrim. There was only her Pack. Two weeks into her therapy Majni came to her.

“Tonight we hunt” he said simply. The she-wolf merely nodded and waited patiently for the others to change into their beast forms and soon they charged off into the surrounding woods. The She-wolf felt exhilarated as she whipped through the trees, collecting every scent that passed by her snout. She chased everything. Rabbits, boar, deer and even a family of Netch that had to escape to deeper water.

“Sister!” the one know to her as Scarlet called out as the She-wolf tried to swim out to the creatures. “There is better prey!”. The She-wolf turned and growled happily and they raced off together after catching the scent of a deer. Scarlet and the She-wolf brought down the deer together and were soon dragging it back to the camp. Their alpha let her have the first taste of flesh and she ripped into the tender muscles of the deer’s belly. Suddenly she was knocked sideways, a powerful force hurtling her across the camp. The She-wolf got to her feet and snarled at her attacker. It was Akar.

“Change back!” he ordered her, menacing her with his sheer bulk. The She-wolf backed up a few steps but she did not obey his command. Change? Back to what? This was who she was; she was a beast, a Werewolf. She did not need to change into anything but the marvellous creature that she was. She snarled louder, showing rows of sharp canines. The male wolf Akar moved forward, raising his claws. Scarlet tried to intervene but the Alpha held her back.

“Change back, human” he growled at her. The She-wolf was confused. Human? He had to be mistaken. She was a Were? She was a human being? She shook her head in confusion and that’s when Akar took a swipe at her. She whimpered at the pain and Scarlet growled angrily but still the Alpha held her back. The She-wolf felt the blood inside her boil over with rage and she struck out at Akar. He dodged from her claws and lunged at her. Soon the two Weres were a jumble of fur, claws and canines snapping at each other. While they were matched in strength, Akar was clearly the better at fighting and soon he had the She-wolf pinned to the ground with his back paws. He snapped at her again as she growled and struggled under his weight. For a moment she thought he would take her but this was no time for mating.

“Wyldfyre” Akar then said a little more gently, causing the She-wolf to stop and focus on him. “Your name is Wyldfyre and you are from Skyrim. You are the Harbinger. You have family. This is not just who you are.”

“NO!” she cried out in defiance, but the memories of her former life started to filter back. She blinked as she remembered her human form, her real self. She was a Nord woman, tall and tanned. Red hair and green eyes with a blue tribal tattoo running down the side of her face. She had scars on her human skin. The She-wolf made one last half-hearted struggle then slumped back into the dirt. Akar stepped off her and he changed back into his human form along with everyone else. Scarlet brushed Majni’s hands off her and edged closer to the now defeated Were.

“Wyldfyre” she said out loud. “Come back to us”.

I am Wyldfyre.

Slowly, painfully she began to change back into her human form, the beast receding into a place inside her that she could still feel, but was no longer a burning, bloodlust filed monster. She curled up into a ball and whimpered. Soon she felt arms around her and someone urged her to her feet.

“Come on” Scarlet led her away from the camp and down to a small icy river. They sat in the shallows while Wyldfyre cried and Scarlet bathed her wounds. Not much was said as Scarlet tended to her friend.

“That was way too harsh” Scarlet said angrily, brushing Wyldfyre’s hair from her face.

“It..it had to be d..done I guess” Wyldfyre hiccoughed. Scarlet cocked her head to the side, peering into Wyldfyre’s eyes.

“Still, I didn’t like it. How do you feel now?”

“Like I’ve been trampled by mammoths” Wyldfyre smiled wryly. Scarlet smiled and planted a quick kiss on her lips then pulled her to her feet.

“Come on, this water is getting a little too chilly, even for me”. They left the river and returned to the camp to join the others. After dressing warmly they gathered around the fire and the two women were both served hot healing teas. Wyldfyre was touched at how caring the pack was towards her.

“So, Sister” Majni spoke, his shaggy beard covering most of the bottom half of his face “You are feeling better. I can feel that in you”. Wyldfyre nodded.

“I am. Thank you” she said simply, she did not really know what else to say. Was she cured of her beast rage? Only time would tell. The wolf would reside in her but she felt now she could control it better. She still felt disconnected with the world and her loved ones were still just a distant memory, but she hoped that once she returned that would change. The pack retired to their bedrolls for the day; Wyldfyre and Scarlet sharing one. As they lay together Wyldfyre felt afraid for the future that lay ahead of her and the problems that could arise from her unusual blood mix. One such worry that she had been thinking about a lot was the Dragons’ ability to prolong their life. Would she age like a normal human or would she be burdened with the horrible reality of everyone she knew and loved fading before her very eyes? How could she live with that? The thought alone was almost too much to bear.

Wyldfyre shivered under the furs and Scarlet wrapped her arms around her, drawing her closer, the warmth from her body giving her a small measure of comfort. She felt Scarlet’s lips on the back of her neck and she slowly drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

They stayed with the pack for two more days, enjoying the comfort of belonging to a close group of people. Soon Wyldfyre knew that she could not delay her real mission and bid an emotional farewell to the Frostmoon pack. She promised that she would return one day and then she and Scarlet made their way back down the mountain and entered Raven Rock late that afternoon. The Northern Maiden was docked and would be making her return run to Skyrim with the morning’s tide. Wyldfyre realised with sadness that she only had one more night to spend with Scarlet. She had grown very fond of the brash, energetic beauty during their time together. Scarlet seemed a little less boisterous than usual as they wandered through the town. They entered the Inn and ascended the stairs to the bar.

“I’ll go tell Azaril we’re back. Grab us a few drinks” she said to Scarlet and went to the room she had rented. But the room was empty and she dumped her things, wondering where the Elf was until she spied a note on her pillow and picked it up.

My Lady.
If I am gone when you return, do not fear. I have been spending some time with a Telvanni wizard who has been studying the enslaved at the All-Maker Stone. I am pleased to say that I myself have not succumbed to its allure. Anyway, it’s been a fascinating study and I have some interesting things to tell you once I return.
Yours, Azaril.

Wyldfyre stared at Azaril’s elaborate writing. She had no idea what a Telvanni Wizard was. She wandered back to the bar and joined Scarlet at a table, waving to Glover who sat on a stool at the counter chatting to a female Dunmer.

“The Elf not thirsty?” Scarlet asked, passing Wyldfyre a bottle of mead who unstoppered the cork and looked thoughtfully towards the door.

“Actually he’s not here. Gone to visit with some Wizard” she answered and then took a swig of her drink. It was not as potent as the fermented goat’s milk and went down a lot smoother. It still warmed her belly pleasantly though.

“Oh really?” Scarlet smiled slowly with one eyebrow raised “So that means we have the room to ourselves the whole night then?” Wyldfyre smiled also then stood, grabbing Scarlets hand. She led the woman back to her room and locked the door behind them.

Much later, as they lay on the bed, Scarlet traced her finger down Wyldfyre’s bare back and over one butt cheek. She sighed, causing Wyldfyre to throw her a questioning look.

“Well I guess I leave for Skyrim soon” she shrugged.

“The night went too quickly” Wyldfyre half whispered. She laid her head on the pillow as Scarlet continued to stroke her back, her hair. “Do you...do you think we shall see each other in Skyrim?” she asked, her eyes growing heavy, her thoughts clouding as sleep fought its way into her very bones.

“Of course” Scarlet smiled then, her eyebrows arched in that seductive way that Wyldfyre loved. “Why, I can almost guarantee it” she leaned down and kissed her on the lips. “Sleep” she ordered.

When Wyldfyre woke the next morning, she was alone; a small note scribbled on parchment on the table next to her. It simply said: Until next time, Lover.

With nothing much else to do until Azaril’s return, Wyldfyre was left to amuse herself. She caught up on a lot of missed sleep at night, and during the day she worked at Glover’s smith helping him making the bolts for her crossbow. After they had forged a number of them, she took Glover out beyond the settlement to show him how the crossbow worked. Glover was so impressed that he asked if he could examine the bow so that he could try making one himself. He had some ideas for a bonemold version and was keen to try it. Two days later Wyldfyre was out at the All-Maker stone when she heard a demanding voice behind her.

“You there...! You don’t seem to be in the same state as the others. Very interesting. May I ask what it is you're doing here?" Wyldfyre turned to see that Azaril had returned with a very ornately dressed dark elf. He strode towards her looking quite officious and carried an air of arrogance about his person.

“Master Neloth” Azaril hurried behind the Wizard “This is my friend Wyldfyre, the one I told you about” Azaril and Wyldfyre embraced, happy to see each other again. The Wizard’s nostrils flared at their open show of sentiment.

“Who? What? Oh, well...” Neloth squinted at Wyldfyre then turned his attention to the stone. Azaril leaned in close to her.

“I am so sorry for that, he can be a bit...”

“Abrupt?” Wyldfyre furrowed one eyebrow and Azaril half smiled and they turned to watch the Wizard as he strode around the perimeter of the stone studying the enslaved people and occasionally muttering “Very interesting” to himself.

“You said you made some interesting discoveries?” she asked her friend. But it was Neloth who answered.

“What, oh you mean your little Miraak theory?” he pointed to Azaril “This one here told me about it but that makes very little sense. Miraak's been dead for thousands of years."

“His cultists seem to think he is. They have been after me for a year now. So what is happening here then?”

“Well I'm not entirely sure, but it is fascinating, isn't it?” he tapped his chin in contemplation “There are ruins of an ancient temple of Miraak's toward the centre of the island. If you want to continue this silly notion of Miraak being involved in all this, if I were you, I'd look there. Good day to you” he nodded and strode off back along the shore towards Raven Rock.

“Well...” Wyldfyre breathed out an explosive breath, irritated. Azaril looked embarrassed.

“I am truly sorry for that My Lady”. She waved it off.

“Don’t worry yourself over it Azaril. I’m glad to see you, and at least we have something to work with now”

“Indeed” he said, falling into step beside her as they to walked back to Raven Rock. “So... how did it go?” he asked shyly. “The Frostmoon Pack?”

“It went well I think” was all she said. Azaril nodded, not wanting to intrude any further. They entered the settlement and Wyldfyre handed Azaril a coin pouch.

“Buy us some supplies and stock up on your arrows. I have a feeling we are going to be away for quite a while. I’m going to go pack. We leave first thing in the morning.”

“Yes My Lady!” Azaril hurried off. Wyldfyre returned to her room and started packing her things for the journey to the Temple of Miraak. She would ask Glover to keep their extra belongings they would not be taking with them. She stowed Scarlet’s letter within the folds of her armour then spread out a map of Solstheim she had brought from a trader in the market square. The Temple was indeed in the centre of the island. Once they skirted around the line of mountains along the southern shore they could travel north to the Temple. She could see on the faded leather that two, possibly three All-Maker stones were within the same area. She studied the map for a good hour until Azaril burst through the door, his arms full of supplies.

“I took the liberty of ordering our dinner when I passed Geldis” he said as he unloaded his purchases onto the bed.

“Excellent! I’m famished” Wyldfyre grinned.

“Oh and you might be interested to know of a visitor to town.”

“Oh and who might that be?” she asked only half interested as she examined a package of strange dried meat.

“Just someone whom I thought you might want to meet.” Azaril tried to say nonchalantly. Wyldfyre looked up, dropping the package.

“By the Maker! Azaril! Tell me who is it?” she frowned, frustrated.


“Oh just a citizen from the Skaal Village”




And there we say goodbye to Scarlet....for now

Really nice post! I'm eager for the next one!

Destiny said:

Really nice post! I'm eager for the next one!

Click to expand...

I always love reading your nice comments. Thank you so much.

^.^

Sorry for the wait my lovelies...


CHAPTER EIGHTY SEVEN: THE TEMPLE OF MIRAAK


“Is that her?” Wyldfyre whispered. She and Azaril were hidden in the alcove of the doorway to the Retching Netch, watching the stranger who was in a very animated conversation with Glover Mallory. The Skaal was covered from head to foot in soft, fluffy fur clothing, a hood covering her head. Wyldfyre could only just make out bits and pieces of her conversation with Glover but she seemed to be pleading with him. Her accent was heavy, like Wyldfyre’s once had been. She still had the same fluid lilt to her words but they were no longer as heavily accented as the Skaal woman. Wyldfyre’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched the woman that was her ancestor, a distant relative even. She drew in a breath and stepped out from the shadows and walked over to the smith.

“...and I’m sorry but I am not setting foot in that... Oh, Wyldfyre, Azaril” Glover nodded as the pair approached. The Skaal turned and brushed the hood off her head. She had red-blonde hair and strong Nordic features. A slight flash of recognition crossed her face before her expression turned once again slightly annoyed. Wyldfyre decided she would have to tread lightly with the Skaal woman.

“Wyldfyre, this is..?” Glover looked to the woman.

“My name is Frea and I am from the Skaal clan. I have travelled here to Raven Rock to seek assistance in helping my people” she then frowned angrily “But no-one is willing.”

“What do you need?” Wyldfyre asked her. Frea studied the red-headed woman for a time before answering.

“My village is all but deserted. My people are enslaved. Trapped to work day and night at the All-Maker stones. Sacred places that were once a place of peace and quiet meditation. I can’t get through to any of them. It’s like I am not even there” She spoke passionately. Wyldfyre and Azaril looked at one another.

“We may be able to help you” she said then to the Skaal woman. “Azaril and I are about to investigate the ruins of Miraak’s Temple. We believe he and the All-maker stones’ change are related.” Frea nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, Yes! One of the stones is located in the centre of that temple. That is where most of my people are working.”

“We are leaving for the Temple in the morning, if you would like to join us”

“I will accompany you” Frea nodded.

“Good. We leave at dawn. Meet us at the city gates in the morning” Wyldfyre and Azaril returned to the Retching Netch for dinner.

“Why didn’t you ask her about the Skaal?” Azaril asked her later as they sat back, full of Geldis’s marvellous food.
“There will be time to talk to her on our journey Azaril. She was worried about her people; I didn’t want to bombard her with questions. It would have been a little insensitive.”

“Of course” the Dunmer nodded. Wyldfyre looked at her friend.

“So you really never went to the Temple of Miraak? I don’t understand how it is you came to be a cultist. Isn’t that where they are based from?”

“I know” Azaril blushed “I was part of a new group of underlings. Sent out to roam the countryside, checking on the stones and then sent to look for you” he frowned “I was nothing to them; just a messenger boy really.” Wyldfyre nodded even though she didn’t fully understand.

“It would have been to our advantage if you had. I have no idea what we are going to be walking into.”

“I know My Lady. But I see it as a blessing. If I had of been like the others, I could very well be rotting in a ditch on the side of a road by now. You are a force to be reckoned with.” Now it was Wyldfyre’s turn to blush.

“Oh stop that” she smiled. “Maybe I would have been the one to be rotting in that ditch. The All-Maker knows I’ve died plenty of times already, what’s one more eh?” she winked.

The next morning they met Frea at the city gates, as planned. Wyldfyre had no idea where the woman had spent the night and did not care to ask her. The Skaal merely nodded in greeting, shouldered her satchel and fell into step with the others. They continued on in silence along the southern road. As they passed by the ruined house were Wyldfyre had met Scarlet for the first time she smiled to herself. Soon they were beyond the mountains and turned north, making their way through the barren, ash-covered wilderness. They stopped at lunch time for a bite to eat and a rest. Frea had been studying Wyldfyre for a while and finally broke the silence.

“You are not the typical Nord. I have not met many in my time but I have known enough to see you are different.”

“You are correct” Wyldfyre said. “I am not a Nord of Skyrim”

“Your accent is more like mine and you speak of the All-Maker. It makes me think that you are like me?”

“I have suspected the same Frea.” Wyldfyre smiled. She went on to tell Frea about her life in her village. The Skaal listened intently as did Azaril, who had never before heard about Wyldfyre’s past.

“I will have to ask my father to be certain, but it sounds like your people were definitely Skaal” she gave Wyldfyre a rare smile. “We share the same history, you and I” Wyldfyre was elated to once again have that family connection again. It was part of her history; part of her very being. She was more determined than ever to cleanse the All-Maker stones and free the Skaal; her people.

They followed almost the same route she and Scarlet had taken towards the Frostmoon camp until Frea turned slightly east before the mountains. As the ascended the mountain they could see a vast structure ahead of them. Scaffolding had been erected around parts of it and Wyldfyre could see small figures working on it. Scattered over the field before the Temple were dozens of Dragon skeletons.

“What happened here?” Wyldfyre asked, wide eyed as she stopped at one of the skeletal dragons. She ran her hand over its jaw bone and shivered. Looking out over the field, she counted maybe ten long dead dragons. A pang of sadness ran through her and she shook it off.

“I do not know” Frea shook her head. Azaril was at a loss also. Wyldfyre almost lovingly caressed the dragon before she continued on.

“Let’s move”. They climbed up the scaffolding and looked down onto the scene below. Dozens of Skaal were working at the structure in the middle of the temple. Another Ancient stone stood in the centre. Frea took off down the stairs and tried to get the attention of her fellow villagers but her efforts were in vain.

“This is how it has been for a while now. I can’t seem to get through to any of them” she looked at the other two as they neared. Wyldfyre placed a consoling hand on her arm.

“We’re going to see if we can fix that” she circled the structure looking for anything that could give her an idea. It was Azaril who spoke first. He approached Wyldfyre out of reach of Frea’s hearing.

“My Lady, do you think one of your shouts would break the hold?” Wyldfyre had not entertained that idea before and she sifted through her shouts but came up with nothing.

“I don’t know any shouts that would help, Azaril. Most of mine so far have been destructive and I would not want to hurt all of these people.” She knew their only option and she didn’t like it.

“We have to go into the Temple. I don’t like it but I think it’s the only way we are going to find out how to stop this.” She turned to Frea “I don’t mean to offend but are you up to the task?” Frea gave a slight smile and started peeling off her lumpy fur clothing to reveal black and silver carved armour underneath. She unsheathed her sword and gave it an expert swing. She looked magnificent and deadly.

“I think I am” she smiled. Just as she said that they heard a low rumbling and suddenly a part of the floor gave way to reveal a ramp. In a matter of seconds cultists were upon them. The three scattered and unsheathed their weapons, dodging fireballs and electric shocks being cast from Miraak’s minions. They dealt with them and stood over the small pile of bodies. Azaril swallowed.

“At least we know we are in the right place” he said, looking slightly panicked. Wyldfyre felt the same. They ascended the stairs and opened the heavy iron door. The lower temple was a vast maze of rooms. They encountered Cultists, Draugr and various traps set to ensnare the unwary. The going was slow and at times they were hard pressed by either Miraak’s followers or a group of angry Draugr. Azaril received a nasty wound to his thigh and they had to hold up in a side room while he recovered. In one of the rooms they had found a small cache of healing potions so they had taken them all, now glad they had. They pressed on and came to a vast room with a dragon skeleton hanging from the roof, keeping a vigil. Wyldfyre could hear a familiar chanting and moved towards the sound. A word wall lay to the left and as she neared the word grew bright and almost bounced off the wall towards her.

The new word entered her body and she knew it instantly. It was the second word to the Dragon Aspect shout. Before Wyldfyre had adsorbed Alduin’s blood, such a powerful shout would have had her collapsing to the floor. But now, with the dragon blood coursing through her veins, she felt a tremendous power running through her. It was invigorating. She didn’t have time to revel in that feeling as more Draugr burst from sarcophagi that surrounded the room. Wyldfyre noticed one in particular that was more powerful than the rest. The coffin it had burst from had a secret door in the back of it. After the Draugr were dealt with, Wyldfyre looted the leader’s body and found a key, and then opened the secret door. Frea approached her cautiously.

“What was that? Why did that wall do that?” Wyldfyre felt it time to reveal to Frea just who exactly she was. The Skaal listened to her and although she accepted it, she was troubled. “I do not fully understand, but I will trust you for now. To have such power and being a Were-beast, it goes against the All-Maker”. Wyldfyre felt disappointed at Frea’s reaction. She had been slowly gaining the woman’s trust and friendship and now this drove a wedge between them that she wasn’t sure she could break. She was more offended at Wyldfyre being a Werewolf than being Dragonborn. Wyldfyre asked why that was so.

"Weres are twisted beasts, cursed by the Daedric Prince Hircine. True wolves are noble creatures of the wild. But the Daedra have no care creation, so they defile the All-Maker's work. I've heard of men who, by curse or by heart's desire, become transformed into one of those vile things. It is a pitiable fate” She strode off towards the door, leaving Wyldfyre hurt and deflated.

“That was harsh My Lady” Azaril placed a consoling hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off.

“All true though” she said bitterly and then followed after the Skaal. She couldn’t blame Frea for her views, for she felt them herself at times. Still, it hurt for someone to say it, especially when she did everything in her power to rid herself of the beast blood.

The Temple was so vast and as they ascended deeper and deeper into the ground. It became clear that Miraak was involved with something far more sinister. They saw strange, grotesque statues of unidentifiable creatures, and even the architecture of the ruins had changed.

“This is not Nord” Wyldfyre commented as they stood in a small room with three of those statues hanging over their heads. A circular grate in the floor revealed a spiral stairway. A feeling of dread was beginning to build up inside her and she could not shake it off. “I don’t like this, at all”

“We must press on” Frea said “We must learn the secrets behind Miraak’s powers if we are to free my people”. A large chamber was soon before them, dragon skeletons splayed out on the ceiling in a macabre display. As they ascended the great stairway they were set upon by several Draugr. Frea was almost crushed when she activated a trip wire that caused a barrage of rocks to tumble down the stairs. The rocks took a few of the Draugr with them. When Azaril finished the last of them they reached the top and pulled a leaver hidden behind another statue. A stone door slid sideways to reveal three rounded connecting rooms beyond. Each of the rooms had a bizarre brazier in the centre.

The final round room emanated evil from its walls. In the centre of the room stood a plinth with a large black book. Wyldfyre approached it with caution. The booked seemed to pulse like the beating of a heart, as if it were alive.

“What is this dark evil?” she heard Frea commenting from behind her. Wyldfyre reached for the book.

“My Lady!” Azaril exclaimed “Do you think that is wise? We have no idea what that book contains”


“I have to Azaril” she said slowly, the book drawing her hand to it like a lover’s call “I have to read it” Wyldfyre’s fingers touched the book and she felt a power running through it. She opened the first page and read. Then all went black.