And then Kodlak found out about my little . . . excursions. Needless to say, he was angry, but I think Aela took the brunt of that. She was actually there when he found out and I think he might have taken most of it out on her.

Chapter 9 – The Glenmori

Ugdulub walked back into Jorvaskr and immediately could tell that something was amiss. All eyes in the mead hall were on him from the moment he opened the door. Everyone that was there was waiting for something to happen. Aela walked up to Ugdulub from the sleeping quarters. She looked worse for the wear, like she hadn't slept since the last time he saw her. "I, uh, finished the . . . quest you gave me," Ugdulub said, still wondering about why everyone was watching him.

"What? Oh, right," Aela began, the tiredness evident in her voice. "That's good, we didn't need any more upstart Silverhand. Although, Kodlak has heard of our movements these past few days and he wants to talk with you now."

Kodlak? This explains the stares. Ugdulub doubted that Kodlak was approving of his efforts to damage the Silverhand. "Alright," he sighed, "where is he?"

"Where he always is."

Ugdulub passed Aela, walking towards the barracks. Climbing down the stairs, he began to think about what could be in store for him. Could the unofficial leader of the Companions have some insane punishment waiting for the orc? Probably not, he thought as he rounded the corner and looked down at the long hall that lined the feasting room above. From what Aela said it was more likely that he would lecture him on the balance of this fight and how his actions could cause unforeseen repercussions. That was more likely.

He could see Kodlak at the end of the hallway. The aged man sat in his usual chair, a book in one hand and a flagon of mead in the other. Ugdulub stopped in front of Kodlak. When Kodlak kept reading, Ugdulub coughed. Startled, Kodlak looked up from his book, "Oh, sorry. It was just getting to a really good part." Kodlak put down his copy of 'A Detailed History of the Empire' and smiled at Ugdulub. "Well, have a seat, I'll get Tilma to bring another flagon."

Ugdulub raised an eyebrow as he complied with Kodlak's wishes. "You, uh, wanted to speak with me, sir?"

Kodlak laughed, "Drop the 'sir' if you would? And yes I did want to talk with you. Well, I guess tell you a story might be more apt."

"A story? I thought you wanted to lecture me about my rash actions."

Kodlak smirked. "You're smart Ugdulub. I'm sure that by now you have already guessed that there is a balance to these kinds of things. We both know that a retaliation is coming, why reiterate the fact? Now tell me, boy, you know many of the old tales, not even Vignar can tell them better than you, but do you know the story of how the Companions became werewolves?"

"No, not really," Ugdulub replied. "That part was left out of what I read. When I was changed, Skjor said that it was a blessing. Though a while ago, before I changed, I remember hearing Vilkas speak of it like a curse and how the Companions of old were tricked."

"They are both right," Kodlak said, "In their own ways. The Companions, as you know, are an old guild. We date back to when Skyrim was founded, though our wolfen side is far younger than the organization. From what I've gathered, it all started with Kyrnil Long-Nose in the late Second Era."

"That would make sense," Ugdulub interrupted, "He's the one that started the tradition of the Inner Circle."

"Yes, but do you know how that happened?" Ugdulub shrugged and slowly shook his head. "He and his allies killed the strongest members of the Companions in his time and took their place. Now he nor his friends were Werewolves, but in this act he created the perfect setting for them. Lifetimes later, came the Harbinger Terrfyg. Little is known of what actually happened, like why and how it happened, but he came into contact with a coven of Wyrd, a type of witch that devotes themselves to nature. This specific group were devotees to Hircine and offered Terrfyg a deal. They offered him and his Inner Circle the power to overcome any foe, what they asked in return was lost to time. Terrfyg took the deal, not knowing that the effects would stay with him after death."

"What?" Ugdulub was startled. He knew little of Daedra, save Malacath, and less about their creations, save Malacath's works. He knew that most Daedra coveted the souls of mortals, though he had no clue why.

"You see, after death a Werewolf is brought to Hircine's hunting grounds and joins the Wild Hunt. This may be a paradise for some people, the thrill of the hunt is alluring to the wolf, but I am a true Nord and I wish to go to Sovngarde and drink and battle with the heroes of old. So I researched Hircine for years, almost the entire time that I've been Harbinger, and just recently I have found what I've been looking for."

"A way to reverse the curse . . ." Ugdulub whispered.

"Yes. A curse of this kind needs the blood of the casters to be unwoven, and before you say it, yes they are still alive. They are some of Hircine's most trusted agents on Mundus, they would have struck a deal with the prince to keep them here. I theorize that if someone who carries the very blood they cursed took one of their heads and threw it into the hearth in Ysgramor's tomb, the holy flames would end the curse, but only for the one who burned the head. This, Ugdulub, is where you come in. I have located where the coven should be, all you have to do is retrieve one of their heads and we can begin to end this curse."

Ugdulub nodded. This is what Kodlak wanted, but something prevented him from retrieving the head himself. Ugdulub stood and thanked Kodlak for his time before going to gather supplies for his hunt.

"Look at this one, sisters."

"Hmmm, that doesn't quite belong here, the wards should keep any travelers from coming near unless they know to seek us."

"No, look closer."

"Is that a child of Malacath? I thought we made sure that those were kept even further from us."

"No, you fools, look at his armor."

"Oh . . . the wolf."

"Yes, now that you mention it, there is that air about him."

"Along with something else."

Ugdulub felt sick, he had ever since he entered these forsaken woods. He followed Kodlak's map to the Glenmori Coven and hoped that the man wasn't just going senile. That would be a great loss. The trees thinned as he reached the end of the forest, which he thought was odd. This forest usually grew all the way up to the mountains, sometimes even just up them, but here it stopped. Even the grass began to thin as it got closer to the mountains. He was nearing his destination according to his map, but it didn't add up. Kodlak told him that the Wyrd specialized in nature magics, how could the forest die around one of their covens?

Ugdulub walked up a narrow ledge as he climbed the mountain. It grew wider as he climbed and at the top met the mouth of a cave. Driven into the dead dirt around the cave were wooden stakes that lined the ridge. Hanging from strange arrays were what looked to Ugdulub like body parts carved out of wood. Wooden hearts hung in nets and wooden heads were impaled in the macabre totem. Ugdulub heard movement inside the cave and decided that it was time to collect what he came for.

"Yes, I think you here right," a voice called out from the shadows. "There is something else about him." It rasped like dry bark.

"An interesting sight, this one's wolf, it you could call it that." Movement in the shadows. They were waiting for him.

A laugh like someone choked on dust, "Tainted, then, just like us." A blast of fire flew in front of Ugdulub setting a pile of wood alight.

Ugdulub gasped at what the light revealed. Four women, ancient and withered, stood around him, but that was not what startled him. These women were no longer of any of the races, they were all twisted and deformed, part human and part beast. One, the one that spoke last, had greying black feathers protruding from her arms and lower back, her nose extending into a beak. Another had patchy grey fur growing from her and a long bare tail, like a skeever's. A third, the one with the dry voice, had a brittle looking carapace and pincers the color of mud. The fourth stayed to the shadows, but Ugdulub could hear the scuttling of arachnid legs.

"This is what happens when one betrays the trust of a daedra," the fourth one said, "But I suspect that the child of Malacath will be learning that soon enough."

"What are you?"

"One could say monsters," the dry one said. "We lusted for the forms of beasts after our master refused to give them to us. We attempted to take a god's work into our own hands and we twisted His gift."

"His wolf neutralized Malacath's presence in the boy," the furry one whispered. "But the wolf returned to him scarred by the cursed one."

"What do you mean?" Ugdulub pressed.

"Did he not know?" the fourth said. "The blessed scion of the Cursed God, scorned by the scorned yet driven for strength."

"I suspect you did not come for a reading of your past and your wolf," the feathered one said. She had not taken her eyes off of Ugdulub since the fire was lit. Her black beady bird eyes watched every little movement of the Orc as if he was the most interesting thing they had ever seen. "No you came for something else."

"I came to kill the Glenmori Coven, take their heads, and use them to end the Companions' curse," Ugdulub said before he even knew it. It was like the words were pulled out of him, though all of the hags looked just as stunned as he did.

Suddenly the furry one fell over, cackling like a madwoman. "Who would have thought a child of Malacath would be the one to finally come to end our torment."

"Almost seems fitting," the dry one said, "After all that we have done to his kind in the past."

"Even if he did do it, Hircine would keep us alive," the shadowy one spoke up.

"Aye, but he has a way to end the curse," the feathered one replied. "I can see it in his eyes a fire that burns with Shor's blessings and can incinerate any magic it touches. But to wish to attempt such a crude fix . . ."

"Hey, I'm a 'child of Malacath', crude, but efficient, is kind of what we do."

"He is . . . correct. And the spell will work as well," the furry one said.

"Very well, warrior, we shall take you up on your offer," the feathered one said, lowering her head. The others followed suit, even the one in the shadows stepped into the light and stretched her spidery neck.

Days later, Ugdulub walked through the gate leading to Whiterun. He carried four bags slung over his shoulder and could feel the tension as the townspeople's eyes turned towards him and they began to whisper to each other. Although it wasn't their whispers he was hearing.

"Are we at the tomb yet?"

"Shut up, we are in a town of some sort."

"Why are we at a town?"

Ugdulub was shocked when the severed heads of the witches began to speak after he cut them off. Now it was just getting annoying. He smelt blood on the wind as he approached Jorvaskr. Several Companions stood outside. They were standing, weapons drawn, over Silverhand corpses.

Seeing Vilkas, Ugdulub ran forward. "What happened?"

"The Silverhand got fed up with being attacked, I guess." His words stung Ugdulub like venom. "I never thought they would have the audacity to attack us in the city. I think some of them got inside, go check on how the others are doing."

Ugdulub ran inside the mead hall to find Aela, Farkas, and several others standing in a circle by the fire. As Ugdulub approached, they parted and he dropped his load. Ugdulub staggered forward and tears burned in his eyes as he looked upon the corpse of Kodlak Whitemane.

Hey all, due to my new schedule, this will now be updated on Tuesdays instead of Mondays.

So, yeah, we've shed some light on Ugdulub's predicament and got some wakky new . . . uh . . . heads. If anyone can think of a pun for those severed Glenmori heads, feel free to write it down in the comments.