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    Elekbe

    New Member
    "Breathe," She thought to herself as the wind whipped across her face. She didn't often go into town, but figured it was worthwhile for the moment. Khalilah thought about Keeno's corpse rotting in the thick of Riverwood. She figured that the royal had gotten to him long before he had a chance to take the stone. "What was he even thinking..." She muttered, a tear dropping down her cheek. She quickly swiped it away before it became something of notice.

    Whiterun was one of the towns she frequented since it was close to Riverwood. Considering the death of Keeno posed a potential threat to her safety, hybrids are always safer in numbers, she knew she had to leave this area for good. It was already a heavy danger hiding out in sacred grounds... Riverwood was the location of the ruined Skendanore pack homes. She had been in the old ruins, which was all thanks to Keeno. She only even met Keeno because she was seeking more understanding of her other half of the beast within. Growing up nearby the Timber Rift pack in the mountains by Winterhold, not allowed to be a part (besides her mother who sought provisions from them occasionally since they were only banished and not sentenced to death), but were still protected. Since she was so familiar with Timber Rift, she wanted to know more about Skendanore... more importantly, why they wanted her dead so badly.

    The thoughts buzzed through her mind in an estranged manner. She pulled a fur she had found from the royal's former camp site over herself and it cloaked her completely. The fur was a thick, black, werewolf hide (but she was unaware of it being wolf) and it was sown to cover her from head to toe. She threw the hood over her face and walked through the large gates at the entrance of Whiterun. Townfolk stared the young girl down, not making out any physical appearance under the strange looking fur cloak. Many of them tried to guess what kind of animal would have such a body of hair, but only to the Companions as they passed by did she really receive any glares. However, they kept their mouths shut suspecting her to be some sort of werewolf hunter. On her hip was a faux silver war axe, which caught Aela's eye even more intently as she strolled past the few walking out of Whiterun. The faux silver war axe was a gift from her parents. It was a clever way to keep her from being sought out by other werewolves if they suspected her to be a hunter.

    Making her way through the town and up towards The Bannered Mare, she held the cloak tight around herself until she slipped through the door. Khalilah slipped to the back unnoticed as she sat down in an empty corner table area with only one other chair for sharing. The werecloak was perfect for masking her own scent, which would have permeated the mead house otherwise. A waitress came over, and she ordered leek and lentil soup with some bread and a side of mead. Khalilah's eyes darted all over the place as she watched every moment in the tavern.
     

    DraconicPsycho

    Dragonman
    Laatvulnil soared over the reach, flying towards whiterun at a sluggish pace, occasionally taking stops to munch on a deer or a family of 4. His precense in skyrim made even the most hardy warriors fear their lives.

    He spotted Dragonsreach from a fairly long distance away. He passed the western watchtower after circling it a few times. The guards panicked and began shooting at him.
    "Hi Fent Ni Lahney! Dir!" Laatvulnil shouted at the guards as he picked them up and shot frost and fire at them. The guards were suffering from fatigue as he soared over them, eventually eating them all.

    A guard, who survived the fray, ran quickly towards whiterun. He ran at unparalleled speed and bursted into the tavern. "D-Dragon! Its a dragon!"

    Laatvulnil arrived at the gate of whiterun, eating and shouting at guards that arrived in endless droves. He flew over the gate towards dragonsreach, circling it and speaking in his native tongue. He spotted a small group of warriors dashing towards him. The companions. They shot at him with their bows with paramount accuracy, and power that could stagger a mammoth. Laatvulnil was able to kill a few of the less powerful ones before the companions turned into werewolves. The villagers all quickly vacated the area, hiding in the keep or running to riverwood. He opened his purple maw to speak to the companions.
    "Kendov, Hi Krif Voth Nid Balaan. You fight without purpose.Hin Sil Los Dii! Hi Fen Ni Bo Wah Sovnegarde!" He took off and began circling the companions, and a mysterious person with a black cloak.
     

    dunklunk

    You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die.
    A hawk’s shrill cry from high above snapped Aapeli from his thoughts. Kneeling, he looked at his hands, blistered and bloodied from moving so many bodies. Not all the blood, however, was his. After adding the final body to the pile, he stood aside to catch his breath as well as ready himself for the task at hand. He checked and re-checked to make sure there was an abundance of twigs and dried leaves mixed amongst his fallen pack members.

    He found his wife’s body, who he meticulously surrounded with the lifeless corpses of their three children. The Hyrunde embraced his family as best he could, with a kiss for each of them. Look after your mother, he said, and don’t give her such a hard time. He had to smile at his last request to his children, and as he did so, tears welled up in his eyes. He kissed Kulanee’s lips one last time, whispering, Good bye, my love. Take care of the pack, and keep those pups of ours in line. A weak smile was all he had to offer as he took three steps back.

    Aapeli grasped a dried branch in his left hand, and as his father taught him so many moons ago, he started to briskly rub his index finger, with a slightly exposed claw, against the branch. A few seconds later, it burst into flames. After what seemed like forever, he tossed the lit branch onto the pile, which ignited immediately.

    Always being loyal to the Pack, he slowly drifted a short distance away from the pyre, watching as the flames engulfed his friends and family.
     

    Elekbe

    New Member
    The silence was ruined as a dragon decide to practically blow the top off of Whiterun. Sighing, she watched as the villagers and companions hanging out in the Bannered Mare frantically gasped and ran from the tavern. Knowing it wasn't safe to stay in one place, Khalilah also got up yet with more composure than the rest. Cautiously making her way out of the tavern, she decided to follow after the Companions at a distance to see what they were going to do. Khalilah watched Aela and Farkas as they were working with the rest of the group trying to assist the guards in taking down this dragon.

    At this point, they had left the hold and were closer to the horse stables and the open valley before them. Khalilah pulled the hood off of the cloak which she made sure was fastened around her neck as she moved. She knew she was giving herself away to the Companions at this point; any werewolf knew Hyrunde eyes were unmistakable. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a french braid, and she had on a full suit of nightingale (minus the hood and mask for the moment) armor underneath her cloak. Her faux silver war axe rested on her right hip. It was truly a daedric axe, but to the eyes of those with werewolf blood it was enchanted to be seen as a pure silver axe with a finely braided black leather handle. However, anyone who did not have werewolf blood could see plain as day it was a daedric war axe. Across the center of her hips and carrying over to the left side of her body were an array of large and small daggers with different purposes and enchantments. And finally on her left side rested a daedric shortsword. She usually also carried a bow, but she left that on her pack at the stables with her horse for now.

    Khalilah had no intention of fighting a dragon. She knew how to properly pick her battles, and she saw no use to fight something she knew she couldn't defeat. Wishing she were able to speak their language, she wondered to herself how she could even communicate that she had no intention of being a threat. Then, it got her thinking in her mind that she would just have to be perceived as not being one. It was incredibly risky, considering he could just be eating flesh and blowing stuff up because he really felt like it and had the power to do so. But she always admired and respected the dragons of Skyrim, and she didn't want to partake in bringing him down.

    In complete view of the dragon, Khalilah lifted up her hands. Slowly, she moved them behind her, and she un-hooked her utility belt and gently placed it on the ground. After that, she slowly sat on the ground, and she lowered her head in respect. If the creature was going to eat her, then it would eat her. She never fought a dragon before, and she wasn't going to start now. The companions stared at her, two of which landed directly at her eyes finally recognizing she wasn't a hunter. Her heart beating wildly, Khalilah had only done this one other time and was incredibly lucky the dragon got distracted by something more interesting to devour so she could escape. Never had she done it intentionally, although she hoped it was just a split second of mercy.
     

    dunklunk

    You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die.
    Aapeli watched the fire until there was nothing left of his Pack but a pile of ashes. And that did not remain for long as a slight breeze began to scatter the heap. He observed this unfold with no visible signs of emotion. With a heavy sigh, he took in his surroundings one final time, knowing full well that he would not be returning here ever again.

    What was the point? All he’d ever known and cared about were savagely taken from him. He drank in the majesty of the nearby Druadach Mountains, recalling fond memories of his time spent on or near the range; of the valley that was once the only home he’d ever known, stirring numerous recollections, both good and bad; and of the rain that swept through the valley at a distance, knowing he’d best be on his way unless he fancied a proper soaking. He loathed leaving The Reach, but it was pure torture to linger any longer.

    He robotically loaded his horse with his gear and necessary provisions and there and then decided to head east, aware that Whiterun would be the first Hold he would encounter on his journey for a new life. He was also cognizant of the fact that the Companions resided in Whiterun, and he was unsure as to how he would be received by them. Realistically, he didn’t care. Aapeli prodded his horse into motion and never looked back.

    * * * * * *

    A few days later and just on the outskirts of Whiterun, he was astonished to witness what appeared to be a warrior of some sort of race he did not recognize from this distance, literally kneel below a hovering, obviously menacing dragon. Ignoring his steed’s constant protests, he nudged her forward, eager to witness what transpired between them.
     

    DraconicPsycho

    Dragonman
    Laat caught a glimpse of a warrior in a cloak put down her weapons and put her hands up. He tilted his head in amusement. "If only you could understand the language of Dovah, i would not have to speak in this...baser...language." His slow laugh echoed through the town, causing fear in some of the younger townsfolk. He proceeded to freeze time for only him and the werewolf. "I sought you out for a reason, Lycan. My home has been overun by a pack of your baser species. I am unable to return, so you will convince them to leave. And in return, i will grant you something more. If you wish to fuflill this request, meet me at the mountain you call shearpoint." Time began to flow around them, and the citizens looked distraught, confused as to what happened. "Thank you for allowing me into your humble town, Joor. Your hospitality was most appriciated." He swooped down creating a gust of wind that knocked down all except the most powerful companions, and he took off towards shearpoint, hopefully waiting for the werewolf to show up.
     

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