Chapter Twenty:

Hircine's Message

Morndas 2 Frostfall 4E 199 12:14AM

I came to a stop along the banks of the River Hjaal, swinging my head to look up and downstream to make certain I was truly alone. It wouldn't be the first time that a stray bandit, hunter, or traveler stumbled upon me—not that I minded when that happened.

I sat back on my haunches, my eyes watching the stars and auroras as they draped across the night sky. Secunda was half-full while Masser was just a sliver of light in the sky. Still, it was a remarkable sight. What I wouldn't do to see Skyrim from the top of the Throat of the World, I thought while moving my gaze from the sky to the large black shape that sat in the center of Skyrim, its peak draped in a thick layer of clouds.

I huffed, watching as my breath became visible for only a few seconds before vanishing into the night. I was alone on this hunt. Taryn expressed interest in coming with me, but I told her that I just needed to get out and run for a bit. She seemed a little disappointed, but I had to tell her that I'd be traveling close to human settlements and that was enough for her to pass on the hunt.

I returned my gaze to the dark waters before me. My gold eyes were the only things reflecting back at me. After a few seconds of staring at my reflection, I lowered my muzzle to the cold water and started lapping up the cool liquid.

Sweet relief, I thought while I drank more. It felt good being out there alone. It reminded me of the days before Kodlak found me. I missed those days sometimes, but I wouldn't return to them anytime soon.

I pulled my muzzle away from the river, licking my chops to catch any stray water droplets. I had a long way back to Whiterun, and even then I wasn't likely to make it back to the city before I crashed. My hunt was satisfactory, but not entirely satisfying. There were mostly rabbits, foxes… small game. Yes, I was full from the hunt, but I could still feel my wolf wanting a bear or a sabrecat.

That fisherman down at the cabin might be in Morthal tonight, I thought while trotting along the bank, mud clinging to my paws and fur. I met the fisherman once or twice while I'd lived out there. A nice man, if a bit odd when one first met him. He lived in an old cabin, big enough for one person but too small for a Werewolf. But he always had fire going, even when he wasn't around.

Splash! My ears perked up at the noise. Mudcrab? I wondered, flicking my ears back and forth a couple of times. It wouldn't have surprised me if I crossed one. Those damned things blended in to the landscape so easily!

I stood there for a moment, waiting for the noise again. When none came, I shrugged and continued along the riverbank, heading for the cabin. And then I heard the water splashing behind me again. But that time, there was a low growl to go along with it.

Out of the dark shadows was a large, gangly Werewolf. I narrowed my eyes, pissed that this wolf intruded on my land. Instead of immediately showing dominance, I decided to sit down, watching the new wolf closely.

The Werewolf circled me, its teeth bared at me as a snarl vibrated from its throat. I snarled at it; a warning that I wasn't in the mood and that I would kill them if they didn't back down now. The Werewolf didn't listen as it opened its maw to release a loud, vicious roar. Usually that'd scare others into running, but it just irritated me.

While it walked around me, sizing me up as prey, I couldn't help but notice how big its paws were for its body. It's just a pup, I concluded. A "pup" to me was a newly-turned Werewolf that had paws that were too big for its body, and that its movements were too predictable. For those that didn't understand Werewolf terms, it was an easy kill.

I remained where I was, not wanting to reveal how large I truly was. Sitting down, I appeared to be about the average-sized Werewolf. But in reality I was probably two or three feet larger than the regular Werewolf—I mean, I was bigger than Vilkas when he was in his wolf form (but not by much)! This pup must've come from Brood Cavern, I assumed. Either that or Robber's Gorge, or Orothiem.

The Werewolf raised itself on its hind legs, roaring at me as loud as it could. I barked in response, another warning for the Werewolf to back down at get away from me. But again, it didn't listen. It lunged for me. I jumped to the side, forcing the pup to skid through the earth a few feet. This time, I was the one circling it, allowing this pup to see what they'd gotten themselves into. I could see the fear appearing in its eyes. If the pup had run off when I'd warned it to, then I would have let it run away with its tail tucked between its legs.

However, that wasn't the case.

To make my point clear, that I not only owned this territory for the night and that I was the alpha between the two of us, I rose on my hind legs, my ears flat against my skull as a fear-inducing roar ripped from my throat. The Werewolf scurried back at the sight of me like Taryn had, before I started helping her. This Werewolf's inner wolf knew that it couldn't win if it fought against me. I was too big, too experienced… too savage for it to even have a chance of winning.

But still, the Werewolf lunged at me.

Before they could make contact, I swung my hand for its face and I heard the Werewolf yelp in pain and surprise. It also didn't think about my reflexes. It probably didn't think about my speed either, I thought while the Werewolf recovered. I could normally resist the urge to chase and kill other creatures, but if this Werewolf ran, I'd follow. If this Werewolf ran, I'd kill them. I barked harshly at it, ordering it to leave this place. Again, it didn't listen.

And I didn't react fast enough that time. I snarled in pain as I felt claws rake along my left bicep, blood seeping from the gashes and matting my fur. My eyes turned to the Werewolf, who was pacing, waiting for me to either retaliate or lay down and surrender.

Needless to say, the Werewolf wasn't expecting me to lunge at it and take a nice chunk of flesh out from its leg. I spat the fur and flesh to the ground, not bothering to clean my muzzle. Saliva began dripping from my maw as the blood-lust began to appear in my mind. I'd killed and eaten a Werewolf before. We didn't taste bad per say, but there was a toughness I didn't enjoy.

I lunged again, raking my claws along its side, cutting deeper gashes than what was on my arm. I'd weaken this prey before I finished it off.

We wrestled in the dirt for a bit, rolling into the River Hjaal once or twice so we were drenched in mud and water. The Werewolf swiped at my stomach. The gashes were shallow, but no less painful. I shot my head up and clamped my jaw around the Werewolf's arm, biting until I hit bone, then I started shaking my head, tearing the muscles, ligaments and joint apart as if I was snapping a twig with my paw.

I heard the sickening sound of something being torn away, followed by a blood-curdling howl. I got to my paws, stalking the wounded prey. This Werewolf couldn't run now. Its blood dripped from my muzzle as I barked at the heavily wounded Werewolf again. This time, it tried to run, only to stumble and howl in agony as it landed on the limb that was missing. It flipped itself over so its belly was exposed to me—a plea of surrender.

I snarled at the wolf as it approached it. I'm the Savage of Skyrim! I'm the Alpha! I roared at it. The wolf whimpered, shaking from either blood-loss or from fear—maybe both, but I didn't care. I rose up on my hind legs one more time before I curled my lips over my teeth, blood dripping from my maw and onto the Werewolf's face. It knew it was going to die. These are my hunting grounds! I roared again as my maw parted, aiming for the throat.

My jaw clamped down on the Werewolf's throat, blood spurting into my mouth as I ravaged the throat until there was a thin bit of flesh keeping the head connected to the body. Out of habit, I licked my chops clean of the blood, only to nearly retch the contents of my stomach up. That blood… there was only one type of Werewolf to have that type of blood.

Tralen had created that pack after all.

Morndas 2 Frostfall 4E 199 2:12PM

"Ow!" I growled as Elana tightened a bandaged around my right bicep.

She shot me a glare while Taryn walked in with an arm full of healing potions. I'd returned to Jorrvaskr at around ten in the morning, poorly bandaged, bloodied, and severely tired. I pushed myself to make it to the secret passage (Elana had kept the ladder there when I went out) and I literally stumbled into mine and Taryn's room, collapsing onto the cold stone floor and covered in blood (some of my wounds were still leaking blood at that point).

Taryn woke up instantly and grabbed her mom and dad, and they reacted quickly. Kodlak helped me get to my bed while Elana and Taryn had gone to get some potions. I think I downed six stamina potions before I was wide awake again.

When I had finally managed to heal myself enough to stop the bleeding on my stomach (it wouldn't scar, thankfully), Elana began bandaging my wounds.

"Drink," Taryn muttered, shoving an opened healing potion in my face.

I took it and downed the liquid in one fell gulp, only to choke and make a noise in the back of my throat. "What was in there?!"

Elana finished up with my leg before pushing me down on my bed, covering me up gently. "A bit of Wolfsbane Elixir," Elana said gently brushing some hair out of my face.

My eyes suddenly felt heavy, my limbs numb as the elixir started to make its way through my body—through my mind and numb the wolf entirely. Eventually, I lost the battle with my eyes, as I felt my eyelids closing slowly. Elana and Taryn became blurry and out of focus, but before consciousness left me entirely, I managed to mumble, "Tralen has a pack…"

That's when the void took over.

Date: ? Time: ?

My eyes fluttered open to a dense forest. Nothing like Skyrim—something better. The sky was a perfect mix of twilight and dusk. I could see, hear, and smell everything... Even the whimpering of a young boy. Frowning, I stood up, aware that I was completely naked, and walked towards the noise. Half of me feared that it was Balfhe and he was hurt. The other half wasn't too sure.

That fear was gone when I spotted a young Imperial boy with dark hair and dark eyes. He didn't appear to notice me. Instead, he was shaking, holding his arm tightly.

"Are you okay?" I asked him, reaching a hand out.

Before my hand made contact, the boy cringed away from me, muttering something that I couldn't make out.

"Savage..." an ethereal voice murmured.

I spun around. "Who's there?!" I called out.

The voice didn't return.

"W-Why?" the boy finally murmured.

I whirled around and crouched down so I was eye level with him. I realized that he wasn't wearing any clothing either. "What are you talking about?" I paused. "Where are we?"

The boy's eyes met mine. His were silver. How is that possible?! He's only fourteen, maybe fifteen years old! "Why did you kill me?" he asked.

I jumped back, my heart beating erratically. "W-What?!"

The Imperial boy stood up. "T-Tralen promised that he'd cure me if I killed you. I just wanted to go home. My mother and father are worried about me and now I'm gone!"

I started to shake. "No... NO!" I screamed. That boy was the Werewolf I killed in Hjaalmarch! The one that tried to…! Oh, Gods!

Turning around, I bolted for the one place that I'd feel safe: the woods—no, Jorrvaskr!

I didn't know how long I was running for, but my legs began to burn and my lungs ached for respite. I glanced around while I tried to catch my breath. None of these woods looked familiar to me.

"Where am I?!" I screamed. The birds around me took off, startled by me.

"You are home," the same ethereal voice said.

"Home?! No I'm not! This isn't my home!"

I heard a low laugh that sent fear down my spine. "You, daughter, are home."

I whirled around to see a lean-built man with a deer skull on his head, his face hidden entirely from view with an odd-looking spear in his right hand. He wore strange armor… Nothing that I'd ever seen before. "Who are you?!" I demanded.

The man simply stared at me as someone else joined him. My eyes widened when they settled on a little girl with bluish-brown eyes, russet-colored hair that stopped just at her shoulders. She was wearing a grey skirt and blue tunic. Her eyes were wide as she stared at me, and I found myself covering my more private areas as fast as I could.

"Stop him," the girl whispered. Her voice… I knew who she was. It was hard not to know who she was. "He's a monster. He sent us here when we were ten years old."

"Sent us—me—where?"

"My Hunting Grounds," the man said, gesturing to the vast expanse of… Hircine's Hunting Grounds?!

"Why am I here?! I'm not dead!"

Hircine waved his spear, letting the little girl run off into the woods. "You are not dead. Merely dreaming, mortal." Hircine traced my jaw with the tip of his spear. I met his gaze and could see the harsh gold of the wild behind the deer skull imbued into his eyes. "And it is this way I communicate with my most… prized hunters."

I jerked my head away, feeling small compared to this Daedric Prince. "What do you want with me?" I asked in a shaky tone.

Hircine took a step forward, lifting my chin once more. "You are familiar with the one called 'Tralen', are you not?"

I nodded. "I am."

Hircine held my gaze. I felt my wolf awaken; my eyes were probably gold by then, and my teeth were no doubt sharpening. "He walks a fine line between 'hunter' and 'murderer'," Hircine said in that ethereal tone. "He has crossed that line one-too-many times."

I gulped. "What do you mean, my Prince?" I paused, shivering. Did I seriously just say that to Hircine?!

Hircine twirled his spear and slammed it into the ground. He released his grip on it, and it stood immobile where he left it. Before it, a portal opened to a realm that looked familiar. "He chose you, an innocent child, to create a pack of savage beasts." The portal vanished before I saw myself being forced to drink Tralen's blood. "I had blessed you that night—the night you escaped. I gave you the strength to leave and stay away." A new portal opened up to a new scene, rather scenes.

The first was that Imperial boy, taken from his camp in the middle of the night. The second was a young girl being stolen in a similar fashion to what happened with me, the third, fourth, and fifth scenes were just as horrible as the first and second ones.

"He is no prized hunter of mine, Savage, for my prized hunters do not steal from me to gain my notice." Another portal opened to reveal Tralen stealing a ring from the Shrine of Hircine.

"I'm not that person anymore!" I shouted, regretting it instantly as the portal vanished. I expected Hircine to attack me, to rip my wolf from me for speaking against him, but he simply stood there, arms crossed.

"Which is why I call upon you, Savage, to end Tralen's life and return my ring to my shrine, hidden deep in the forests of Skyrim. In return… I suppose we can work something out."

I remained there, on the ground, shaking slightly. "I-I can't face him, my Prince. He's too strong for me to take on alone."

It was eerily quiet for a time before Hircine spoke again. "You are a Lycan; the best of my creations, the strongest of all the were-creatures I could have created. Deep within you is the primal need for a pack. Find one."

A pack?

"You must first destroy his—."

"How can I kill innocent children? I didn't know with the boy, but why must they be killed?!"

I felt a searing pain appear in the center of my gut. Oh, Gods! It feels like drinking Tralen's blood all over again! "DO NOT RAISE YOUR VOICE AGAINST ME!" Hircine roared before making the pain go away.

I slumped to the ground, tears falling down my cheeks and onto the luscious green grass. "Why...?" I whispered in a quiet tone.

"They are too unpredictable, like their creator. They mustn't walk among you mortals any longer. They'll reveal themselves to you, one by one. You must destroy them. Offer no mercy, nor remorse," Hircine said in his dark tone.

"Why do you want Tralen dead?"

Hircine paused for a moment, considering his words. "Tralen was one of the few who were blessed on my Summoning Day." I tensed. "I gave him his blood."

"T-Tralen drank your blood?!" I nearly screamed. I had been forced to drink Hircine's blood?!

Hircine nodded. "It is why he is so… large for a Werewolf. It is why he was considered my prized hunter… until now."

Before I could say something more, a searing pain appeared on the back of my neck. I moaned, clasping my hand on the spot. "What was that?" I asked.

"You have been marked as one of my best hunters… do not disappoint me," the Huntsman said before vanishing into the forests.

My hand reached to the back of my neck. I could still feel the heat from whatever he marked me with.

Middas 4 Frostfall 4E 199 10:17AM

I woke up gasping for air. What was that?! I wondered while running my hands through my hair a few times. That was a weird dream—even weirder than the dream I'd had about Brandr the other week.

"Good," Taryn said. "You're up." She set her book on the table by her bed.

I glanced at her. "Taryn..." I looked around the room—our room! I was back home! I wasn't… I wasn't at the Hunting Grounds! It really was just a dream!

"How're you feeling?" Taryn asked.

"Better," I replied. In fact, I felt great. I removed my bandages to see that the cuts were healed and gone. "How long was I out?" I asked her.

Taryn shrugged. "A day. I think we gave you too strong a mix of Wolfsbane Elixir. Sorry."

I nodded, my hand touching the warm spot on the back of my neck.

"You know what needs to be done."

It wasn't entirely a dream then. It was real. Hircine had sent a message to me.

But that meant I had to kill Tralen.