The Beasts Inside Us
Chapter 1
The werewolf snarled at the man before him. Suddenly, the beast began to writhe and fell to the floor. The snout retracted and the thick hair that once covered the wolf's body receded to uncover the muscular form of a male Nord. He lifted his head to reveal his face, a wolfish grin playing on his lips. "Well, what are you waiting for? Drink it!"
Everyone around the fountain cheered on
A female Nord with bright ginger hair nodded enthusiastically. "Aren't you excited to be one of us?"
Arnbjorn swallowed hard. "I…I'm not really sure…"
"What? You can't back down now! Not after everything that you've done!" protested the now human. He walked towards Arnbjorn and patted his shoulder. "Isn't this what you wanted; to be part of the Circle? I remember when you first joined up…you were so happy when we accepted you. Well, you were trying to hide that happiness but we could all see through your tough guy act, right guys?"
The rest of the people in the room nodded.
"I guess…" muttered Arnbjorn. He took a deep breath. "Okay. Fine. I'll do it. Fine. Okay. I'm ready." He stepped towards the fountain and dipped his hand in, cupping his palm. He lifted his hand, now filled with the sticky red liquid – the werewolf's blood – and took a small sip.
The man beside him snorted. "You're going to have to drink a whole lot more than that."
"Be quiet, Farkas," spoke an exact replica of the dark-haired Nord. "He can take his time. Blood isn't exactly a person's first choice of beverage. Stop acting like your blood is Honningbrew mead."
Arnbjorn continued to slowly sip from his palm. The blood was warm but slid uncomfortably down his throat. Sometimes he felt like gagging, but he knew that if he dared show a single sign of weakness, his acceptance in the Circle would be rethought. Finally, when the fountain was half empty, he felt something inside him churn. He tried to swallow some more blood, but that was immediately stopped when pain shot throughout his whole body. He clenched his fists, desperate not to scream as he felt his bone structure deform.
His ribs expanded, his legs grew twisted, and his nails grew long and sharp. He could feel his nose extend into a snout, and his body hair grow longer and thicker. He closed his eyes tightly and opened his mouth to scream.
Instead, there was a howl.
"Well, we've got, let's see…someone who needs to scare someone, ugh those are boring…some animal in some house, not another fetchin' one! How hard is it to keep a wolf out of your house? Oh, an escaped criminal? That sounds interesting. Want it?" Vilkas looked up from the papers in front of him to face Arnbjorn. It had been a slow week in Jorrvaskr; not that clients were hard to come by. There was always a problem in Skyrim that the Companions could solve. However, most of them were mundane.
"Eh, why not?" Arnbjorn shrugged and took the contract form from Vilkas' outstretched hand. He briefly looked over the location – Falkreath – and nodded. "Well, I'm off then. See you." With that, Arnbjorn walked out of the room.
"Hey Arnbjorn! What's up?" called out a voice. He sighed, knowing what was going to happen next as soon as that person spotted the contract in his hand. "Oh! A contract! Need some help? Can I come too?"
Arnbjorn turned to face the wide-eyed Nord. "Oh, hey Hestla…" he mumbled. His brain quickly tried to think of a reason to decline her offer. "Um, not this time…it's too dangerous."
Hestla frowned, her mouth drooping into a pout. "But how am I supposed to become a better Companion if no one treats me like I'm strong enough? Because I am!"
Arnbjorn closed his eyes for a second. "Look, Hestla, it's not that you're not strong enough, I just like working alone. Got it? Now I'd appreciate it if you'd go away."
The furious Nord whipped around and stalked off to the living quarters, where she would not doubt spend the rest of the day sulking in her room. Truth be told, Arnbjorn was lying. Hestla really was weak…too weak to be a Companion. She couldn't even kill a mudcrab that had wandered in Whiterun from the small streams that dotted the tundra landscape. Why Kodlak let her in was still a mystery.
Arnbjorn shook all thoughts of Hestla out of his mind and continued on with his task. He left Whiterun shortly after paying the carriage driver the required 50 gold.
The journey to Falkreath Hold was a long one. It had been early Morndas when he first left Whiterun, and now it was mid-Tirdas. Arnbjorn thanked the carriage driver and began walking around, asking the guards where the escaped criminal was hiding.
"Uh…yeah. I've heard about him. Uh, he's an Imperial. Tall. Wanted for murdering an entire family, was it? Very dangerous. I'd be careful if I were you. Anyways, last we saw him he was headed for the pine forest in the southwest reaches of here." The guard nodded once before turning around and continuing his patrol around the streets.
Arnbjorn set off, readying his weapon in his hand. It was a wonderful weapon; a shiny Iron battleaxe, enchanted with Frost damage. Tendrils of magic danced on the handle, and it was always cool to the touch, no matter the weather. It gleamed in the soft shafts of light that found their way through the thick leaves that covered the trees around him. His boots made muffled crunching noises as he crept around. He had to keep his eyes and ears open. The werewolf blood that pumped throughout him heightened his senses, making all his contracts now easier. He lifted his head to sniff the air. He detected the moist scent of water and rotting leaves…the wind seemed to be blowing from the north. He ears pricked as he heard the hurried footsteps of someone.
Suddenly, a tall Imperial dashed out of the bushes, an excited yet terrified look on his face. He jerked his head around, no doubt making sure no one was following him. Arnbjorn froze, wondering what was going on. Why did he look so scared? He tightened his grip on his weapon and crouched down.
The Imperial began creeping away. Every so often he would freeze, glance around, then continue.
Arnbjorn knew that he had to kill him, but curiosity got the better of him as he started to follow the strange man.
They passed some ruins until they came to a pale dirt road. The Imperial stopped, looked around once more and then jumped off the rocks lining the path into the clearing underneath. Of course, Arnbjorn shortly did the same thing. As he recovered from the fall, Arnbjorn only had a couple of seconds before witnessing the Imperial run to what had to be the strangest door he'd ever seen and disappear inside.
Arnbjorn stood up, gripping his weapon even tighter now. He crept towards the door. A soft hum was heard, and red light seemed to emit from the door itself. A skull was carved into the center, with a bloody red handprint on the forehead. Shivers went down Arnbjorn's spine as he started at the sinister door. But then…it started to speak.
And that was when Arnbjorn began to run away.
AN: I'd like to thank Bethesda for not giving an background on Arnbjorn so I could write this fanfic.