I'm rather disappointed in the lack of Clavicus Vile fanfics, so I figured I would fill in the gap myself. When I did Vile's quest in Oblivion, I was curious and started playing with my character in my head a little too much. This is the result. First off, I'll point out a few things so no one is lost or confused.

*This is a oneshot, though if there is a decent response to it, it might continue.
*The character is a male Bosmer
*At the end, he is NOT a werewolf.
*Explores how Barbas might have become Vile's servant.

Now, on to the show! Read and Review!
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Many people who have any sense of self preservation usually stick to worshipping the Nine Divines. Unless you happen to be a Bosmer with a sense of curiosity doused with a whopping dollop of stupidity. My father often told me that there was nothing more dangerous than a resourceful idiot. In my case, he couldn't have been more correct.

I'm not sure why or how I was drawn into Daedric worship, but I'm pretty sure it started with a book called Azura and the Box, or one of the tales about Sheogorath, the Mad One. I am also a self-taught artist with a tendency to behave like a drunken goblin with a jigsaw puzzle. Fun to watch, but only if you're behind a protective barrier of some sort.
During the day, I spend my time at the Arcane University illustrating their many texts. I think my crowning achievement was my rendering of Clavicus Vile, the very project that nearly destroyed my career. Apparently Archmage Traven thought my artwork was amazingly life-like for someone who had never seen him. Upon later reflection, I wondered how he could possibly know what Clavicus looked like if he didn't participate in Daedra worship either.

Many of my "friends" thought that I was a loner by choice. In a way they are right, but I think society has some sort of sanity meter that steers them away from devious folk like me. Even my fellow Bosmer consider me to be a little nuts, so that should tell you something. Mostly, I think it's just that I don't fit society's role that Bosmer are supposed to fit. I'm not a thief, farmer, hunter, or a motor-mouth.

I am a terrible liar, but I'm sure you already knew that. Most Bosmer are, unless you happen to be a politician. For some reason politicians of all races seem to possess a lying tongue that could deceive Boethiah itself . That is something that has always fascinated me.

But back to my story.

I was in a rather desperate situation. I had borrowed a large amount of money from one of the many loan sharks on the Waterfront in the Imperial City. For some reason they didn't understand that I needed a little extra time to collect the funds to pay them. I don't see how a year was such a long time to pay someone back. Word from the beggars warned me that Eli the Nasty was coming to break my neck since he broke my fingers last time.

See what I mean? I depend on my hands to earn my money, and I wasn't able to do anything in the time he gave me. I tried to call in favors, but strangely, no one answered my letters. I guess they were busy and haven't had the time to read them yet.

I did the only thing that I could do, and it happened to be the stupidest decision I made in my life. Come to think of it, it did cost me my life. I rapidly flipped through mountains of my hastily scrawled notes from the Daedric texts I often had to illustrate. A quick mental run through of all the items in my house told me that I had the items required to summon Clavicus Vile or Hircine. Vile's shrine was closer, and he might view my situation a bit more favorably than the Lord of the Hunt.

So I threw the last dregs of my Septims into a bag, a measly five-hundred Septims, and slipped out of my home, my boots set directly for Clavicus Vile's shrine. The low murmur of the City at night was a comfortable sound, something familiar to calm me as I headed to try to cheat my way out of death.

Fear seemed to keep my feet going long after my normal endurance should have given way to the steep, winding paths. It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that I could see the white stone of the Shrine in the distance. I can't count the brambles, fallen logs, and sink holes that I stumbled over during the night.

I must have made quite a sight when I stepped into the clearing, leaves and twigs tangled in my long copper hair. I could faintly hear the baying of the dogs Eli used and I knew that I was going to be shaving this close.

I shoved my bag of Septims at the altar's base and prayed like I never had done before, even harder than when I begged Akatosh to spare my wife's life as she bled out from a stab wound on the High Road. I think my panic caused me to grovel for quite a while before I became aware of someone's, or something's, amusement.

It is hard to describe speaking to something that you can't see, and yet you can feel it with every one of your other senses. I could feel his moods, how they shifted from slightly bored to sharp interest, to a vague irritation. I could smell the brimstone on Vile's breath, as well as the iron, old meat smell of Barbas. The dog's coarse fur felt like the stiff hair one would feel on a dead animal, and something that felt like expensive silk touched my forehead. Barbas' heavy panting almost hid Clavicus' light laughter. It reminded me of wind-chimes that had the blades of keen daggers.

"Why do you summon me, Mortal?" He whispered into my ear, his voice almost child-like but with undercurrents of malice and evil intent. I believe I nearly jumped out of my skin as I knelt there in the dead grass.

"I-uh… Well…" I stuttered out, my vocal chords having seemed to have forgotten how to speak.

"Spit it out!"

"I need your help! Eli the Nasty is going to kill me if he finds me! His hounds will rip me to shreds!" I shrieked at him, spittle flying. I was ignoring the pompous stares of the other regular members of the Shrine. All I cared about was saving my own skin. I jerked when I felt Barbas jam his muzzle into my back, nearly knocking me facedown.

"So you say. But why should I care what happens to one soul? After all, you seem to lack the funds to pay your debtors off. How could you possibly give me what I want? And how could I trust you to keep your end of the bargain?"

I was at a loss as to how to persuade Clavicus to help me. I was never one who had the skill to persuade anyone to help me unless they were already interested. It was all I could do not to let despair dissolve me into a puddle of tears. His silence made it clear that he was waiting, his interest slowly rising as Eli's dogs closed the gap.
I opened my mouth to admit defeat when an invisible hand forced it shut, almost causing me to bite the tip of my tongue. I could feel the roughness of his palm contrasting to the smoothness of his nails as the tips pressed into my cheeks.

"I see you know when your 'goose is cooked,' as your father would have said." Clavicus said, his voice taking an irritating pitch. "But you do show remarkable talent in other areas that might be of use to me. At least until insanity takes you and Sheogorath becomes your Prince." I twitched again as he released my face and clapped, the force of which caused my hair to shift in its wind.

I felt a worm of doubt worry its way to the front of my mind, and I began to wonder if making a deal with Clavicus was such a great idea. Vile read my mind easily, and he gripped my shoulders, easily crushing them with an inhuman grip. My upper lip twitched as I gritted my teeth so hard I heard them squeak.

"Oh no, my dear little Mortal. You summoned me, and I will have my bargain. Since you have no head for this, I will dictate the rules and you get to choose if you're going to die now or later."
My eyebrows rose in surprise. I was in way over my head, and Clavicus knew it. I couldn't back out now, not since I could hear Eli's curses echoing through the woods around me.

"And now we come to it. I will spare you from Eli, but you will serve me for the rest of eternity in a form similar to Barbas. You will be my hound, unable to leave my realm. I will take your artistic talent, and your voice as payment." Clavicus paused, and I could feel his eyes boring into my forehead. "Do you accept?"

My knees turned to water, and if I hadn't been kneeling, I would have fallen. My throat clogged for a moment, costing me precious seconds as I saw Eli two-hundred yards away. "I accept! Oh, gods, do I ever accept!"

"Ah, your desperation is most touching," Vile murmured, his hand moving to the top of my head. Excitement tinged his voice, making my worry escalate. "But a deal is a deal. I claim that which is mine by pact."

I felt a great tearing sensation in my mind, something that was once a great part of my personality being torn out like a jagged splinter. The loss of it caused me to howl in pain. For a few brief moments I saw the Madhouse of Sheogorath, and just as my fingertips brushed one of the fluorescent mushrooms, Clavicus ripped my voice away as well, leaving me to writhe in silence. But my new master wasn't finished, not by a long shot.

At first I thought the insanity was returning as everything around me seemed to grow, allowing me to escape into Sheogorath's domain, but the pain of my bones melting and forcibly reshaping themselves into a new form thrust me into a new horrible reality. The ripping of my clothing was loud in the silence that the shocked worshippers let reign. The colors of my vision faded into the subtle grays of colorblindness as I took the shape of a large dog like Barbas. I still couldn't bark or howl since Vile owned my voice as well.

For several long moments, my entire being moaned in agony, what was left of my soul struggling to piece itself back together. The sense of claustrophobia wrapped my mind in its tight, unyielding grip. Losing my voice wouldn't have bothered me, but having my creative spirit taken was almost too much to bear. No longer could I see the beautiful patterns in nature, or wonder how to best render fur with oil paints. I couldn't fascinate myself with swirling colors or see imaginary shapes in the clouds.

I was…. Nothing. Despair sank in and I tried to howl, my muzzle and tongue forming the correct shapes, but my throat didn't vibrate with my emotion. It proved to be too much for my already strained psyche, and I felt my body barreling towards comfortable oblivion.

My sight blurred as I heard dogs howling in fear, and Eli's screaming drowned out by Barbas' deep, booming barks. The last thing I remember hearing was a child's high-pitched laugh of ecstasy, something that had no place among the sounds of ripping clothing, howls, and screams. I think I joined in as well, if only to stop the screaming from piercing my skull.

I'm not sure when I realized I was in Clavicus' realm, only that I was sprawled across a mountain of gold from various Eras. The cavernous room was dim, but at its door I could see the swirling mists of Vile's lands. Gold slid and rattled noisily as I stood my weight unsteady. My first few steps were more of controlled flops as I slid down the side and landed on the floor in a landslide of coins.

Hours must have passed as I struggled around the room, learned how to walk and to adjust to my new senses. Not once did I hear from Clavicus or Barbas, but I wasn't worried. I would wander to the doorway, but stop just short since there was nothing to step onto outside the door. At least I didn't have to worry about becoming lost.
I let out a loud huff, snapping my teeth in agitation. I made a circle around the pile, listening to my claws click on the marble and wondering why Vile didn't just hire a dragon and be done with it.

"Because my hoard would become the dragon's," I jumped nearly a foot in the air, my jaws snapping wildly in an attempt to snag Clavicus. Evil laughter greeted my attempt at violence and I felt I light pat on my head. "Good hound! I see you will make a much better guardian than the last mortal. He eventually became a gibbering mess. You have the mental fortitude to handle to solitude." Vile patted my head a few more times once I stopped trying to eat his fingers. The hair along my spine remained raised, but my silent growls were ignored.
I wasn't sure how I would communicate with him until I noticed Barbas was gone.

"Barbas is currently in some mortal's pack. I wanted Umbra back and he is helping her retrieve it for me." Clavicus patted my head a little harder. "And don't worry about not being able to talk. I can read your mind as easily as you used to read a book."

I allowed a mental roll of my eyes as I stared off into eternity, barely able to make out the other islands in the swirling, glittering fog of the realm. I heard my master's boot heels clack against the marble as he stood beside me, his fine silks billowing in the turbulence. I was surprised to find that Vile wasn't a giant at all, but creature that looked like it could pass for a small child had it not been for the horns and pointed ears. I tolerated a few more pats, allowing his strange scent to wash over me.

"See? Eternity isn't so bad. Once Umbra arrives, we will have ourselves a wonderful time. Just you wait and see my little hound,"