Chapter 54.

As we explored more of the Silverhand's hideout, we encountered more confrontations.
Nothing we couldn't handle, that hardest part was holding back just enough to not kill the one in charge.
Farkas knew his way around a greatsword and took care of the heavies for me while my far more flimsy weapons got the job done on crowed control.
Needless to say but, I'm glad Farkas is on my side, for I know too well what happens when I try to take on a guy wielding a sword as long as I am tall. Especially since I don't have a vampire to back me up.
When the fighting was over, Farkas tied up the survivors one at a time as I held the rest at sword point.
A few of them tried to rush me at once. I stabbed one through the chest and slashed the other two, getting one across the neck and the other's face.

"Two to one, you die if you try pulling that shit with me again!" I used the one with blood gushing from his face as a best-case scenario if they're stupid enough to go for it.

"Next" Farkas demanded, taking the next on by his hair.

He got a lot of abuse as he systematically tied them up.
Not so creative comments about him being a mongrel dog and I, of course, got called a bitch in heat.

"I miss Niik…" I sighed to myself while I and Farkas talked about interrogation tactics. "Niik could seduce these ass holes into telling us everything… and we wouldn't be taking any of their shit neithre…"

"Seduce?" Farkas tilted his head, looking genuinely confused by that.

"Oh yea, didn't you know? After killing people and sponging injuries, I'd say seducing people is Niik's third favourite thing to do"

"That would explain the company he keeps…" I noticed his wondering eyes.

"Hey wolfman, my eyes are up here!" I scolded before turning our attention to the Silverhands. "Since you know what to ask, you question them and I'll look around for evidence"

"Sounds good" Farkas eyed up the prisoner tied to a chair first. Since he was the one handing out orders before, we assumed he was the authority of the bunch.

"First thing I want to know is how" Farkas punched the leader in the jaw.

I listened in.
From what I know so far, it seems that the poison they've been using has been very selective about who it kills. Only those carrying wolf blood ever got sick or died. Many of those who died riving in pain, had shared drinks and meals with others who weren't harmed at all.
So I kept an ear out for a hint of what I might be looking for as I looked around the workspaces for bottles and jars that may house poisons.

"You guys really should label these things…" There was a small laboratory set up. Oil flames under boiling flasks. More high tech than I was expecting for the time, but a lot of their 'ingredients' were left out in wooden dishes of all things.
If I were able to summon Omnico right now, he could analyse all these substances and tell me if any of them are too toxic to even touch.
"Hmm…" I looked back at our row of captives.
They're all dead, or will be by the time we leave. I'm not one for human testing, so hopefully, it won't come to that.
"Farkas, hold up a second" I carried with me a trey of various dishes and jars. "Which of you uses that little lab over there?" I waited for a response, no one answered. "Okay, can anyone tell me what this stuff is?" I held out the dish of coarse white powder.

One of them scoffed a laugh, suggesting that I stick my finger in for a taste.

"That's a fantastic idea!" I brought it over. "You first."

For all I know, this stuff could be deadly if absorbed through the skin. I've no intention of touching it today or ever, but if it is harmful, surely this guy with break and tell me before I spill a little on him.
He gave a mocking glare, then leaned into the dish and licked some of it up.

"oh, shit…" I pulled away, expecting him to be foaming a the mouth, chocking, growing a third eyeball for all I know.

He just gagged, claiming it to be 'a bit salty'.

"salty?" Coarse white powder… "Is this just salt?"

The prisoners chuckled amongst themselves, the leader calling me a daft cunt.
"But what should we expect from a wolf's bitch?" He laughed.

"I bet it still stings…" I throw the entire contents on his face, causing him to rive around, struggling against his bonds as salt soaked in his bloody wounds.
"Okay, dish number two" I looked down the row of prisoners as I examined the dish. "This is practically glowing orange… anyone care to elaborate?"

"It's… salt…" One stated, starring off with a pained look.

"Don't make me throw this on you"

"Listen you stupid bitch, it's SALT!" He leaned away as far as he could. "Fire salts are residue from Flaming atronachs when they die"

"Oh, this I suppose dish number three is what, frost salt?" I picked up the dish of clear white powder and tossed it over him. It created a chilling mist in the air that left everyone caught in it shivering with a thin layer of snow on their clothes and skin.
"son of a… Farkas, you take over! I'm so done with magic and potions..."

Farkas kept up the interrogation but was more hands-off this time. I think I overheard him threatening to bring me back into the conversation if they don't start talking.
I may have accidentally created the Good-dog Bad-dog interrogation tactic centuries early. And even After Farkas opens conversations with a punch to the face, I somehow end up being Bad-dog.

Despite this, I could tell they weren't going to give up anything willingly. I just need to keep looking for clues.
I soon found a small crafting station. Boxes of scrap metals, broken armour sets, dull swords, a workbench and a whetstone.

Back before we entered this room, Farkas could hear people clanging away on metals and heard the sound of stone grinding.
The swords being sharpened looked kinda funky though.

Most swords I've encountered are only sharpened for the first quarter from the tip for stabbing or slashing. The rest of the sword can be sharp, but usually, you don't mind the middle and bottom getting blunt because they'll usually be used for clashing against other swords or bashing armour, so they'll end up getting dull anyway.
But these blades had been grounded to a very fine V point. The blade's integrity is surely compromised by being cut like this.

But I bet it's sharp. A razor's edge that could slice flesh like butter.
Their primary targets are barebacked werewolves, not armour wearing soldiers with swords.
It won't break bone, but it could slice muscle and relieve someone of their organs if you get a good swing at their stomach.
Out of curiosity, I ran my thumb over the edge.

I expected it to cut me, but even so, it was shocking just how little effort it took. I just wish I expected the blade to be silver. It really stung me.

Next, I tried hitting the edge of the silver sword against my own.
The blade broke. Not only was the edge sharpened beyond what was needed, but they were also grinding down the flat sides too.
Even if you only aimed at skin, wear and tear will have destroyed this blade even if I didn't smash it against my own.
"So they're grinding silver swords into to a ridiculous edge… Maybe to torture?"

I put the sword down for now. Other things were grabbing my attention. A few rags with bloodstains littered the floor around the smithing station. Clearly, these guys are rather clumsy with their sharpening. There was a knife's blade sharpened so much it only two inches long and narrow like a razor. Sharp or not, it's useless against a werewolf, and even leaning too much pressure from the handle snapped the blade. There were also silver bars, or at least remnants of them.

As I was inspecting all these weird scrap metals, I noticed the whetstone itself.
Someone had positioned the whetstone in what looked like a very wide but shallow wooden tub filled about halfway with water.
Whetstones need to stay wet I suppose. I didn't think it needed that much water though. I've never seen a set up like this before. Not at the Dawnguard, not at the smith house in Whiterun.
"Maybe it gets hot when doing this?" I wondered if maybe it's a footbath to stay cool while you work. Is that really a luxury you can afford when operating underground like this?

I dipped my hand in the water. It was ice cold as expected, but I felt something sting me in the water.
I could also feel some sort of slurry in there, but it was too dark to make out.
But there was one rag floating in the water. It was coated in silver shaving.
I looked back at the silver bars on the table. With a different cloth in my hand, I could pick a grounded down bar up and place it on the whetstone. The shape of the stone matched the indent in the bar.

"So they're grinding down silver bars too? Why?" Maybe to make them into an edge to stab with? But they're already making blades with redundant edges, why waste silver bars like this when they could be forged into actual weapons?
Then again, maybe weapons don't work?
By himself, Farkas took out several Silvers. Maybe in open combat, Silver hands are just simply outmatched.

"ugh, this is killing me…" I sat on the whetstone bench to watch the interrogation. Farkas has taken to punching again, but there were some watchful eyes on me.

If I'm really wasting my time here, would they focus on me or the man beating answers out of them?

Maybe they're waiting for me to mess with their cooking pot next. I could hear it boiling over a small fire just next to the workbench.
Stupid ol' me will walk over with a pot demanding to know what kinda toxic sludge they're brewing, just for it to end up being tomato soup or something.

"I wonder what cave-dwelling murderers eat anyhow… doesn't smell appetising…" Not ruling out poison just yet, I carefully took a look. "You boys want to tell me what's cooking?" At first glance, it just looked like boiling water, or oil maybe. Most of it had evaporated. Only the very bottom was sizzling away. "what is that?" I looked a little closer. Something was in there, something shiny, glittering.
I'm willing to bet they're tiny fibres of silver.
"Farkas, come here a second…"

As my wolf teacher turned to come my way, one of the captives jumped up with hands still tied behind his back and kicked Farkas at the back of the knee.
Everyone still able, all joined in on kicking him while he was down. Without their arms, all they could do was kick his ribs and face.

Two approached me, one kicked the cooking pot causing hot water to spill towards me and some of it filled my boot.

"BA-stards!" My foot kicked wildly to escape the burning pain surrounding it.
Being the only thing at hand, the first Silverhand prick to reach me got smacked in the face with a ladle, the other met my sword.

Someone managed to break their bindings by using one of the stupidly sharp swords.

"Well now, aren't you lucky…?" Our blades met, his was the stronger arm, mine was the stronger sword. His blade broke in half, and with a follow-up motion, I slashed his neck.
Dropping his hilt, he grabbed his throat in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.

The ones still ganging up on Farkas had him overpowered. Every attempt to get up was met with several boots to the face.

I rushed up behind, battered one over the back of the head with the flat of my sword and slashed the neck of another.

While I was fighting them off, Farkas found his feet. Not interested in elegance or swordsmanship, he simply smashed one of the wooden chairs off the one closest to him.

The two remaining tried to escape through the tunnels. Farkas ran after them as I couldn't face running with my boot still filled with boiling water.
But I could hear the fighting. It's fair to say, interrogations won't be continuing, not that they were cooperating anyway.
They knew they weren't getting out alive, and I don't think myself nor Farkas has the nerve for the kinda torture it would have taken to make them talk.
Should have brought a vampire with us.

"Aw, I should have threatened to use an iron on their face!" Facepalm. At the very least I could see if I was a wuss in giving up so easily with Niik. "too late now…" I sighed as I pulled off my boot and the wet stocking.
It felt nice letting the cold air in about my pale white toes and bright red ankle. Ideally, I'd have a cold footbath to stick it in.
There is the whetstone bath, but I think that water will do more damage to me than good.
Niik's healing hands might be what I need, another good reason to bring him.
That said, even though I am alone, be it temporarily, I do feel kinda exposed having one leg bare while the other is covered up.

Not that I could do much. I could already see my wet stocking is covered in wet silver fibres.
But at least, I think I understand what might be going on.

"Are you okay?" Farkas emerged from the tunnel, his eyes on my leg. "what did they do to you?"

"Sexy, right?" I looked at the red marks down my leg. "Hand me a dry cloth, I'll tell you my thinking..." As I dried my foot of any silver fibres sticking to me, I explained my hypophysis to Farkas.

"When you sharpen a tool, you're shaving away tiny pieces of metal. If you caught them in water and boiled until only the metal shavings remained, then you're left with this…" I brought over the 'soup' pot. With most of the water drained, inside was a slurry of silver shavings. "Mostly harmless to humans if eaten, but deadly to werewolves!"

"I think I follow…" Farkas took a moment to observe the broken silver ingots. "But we'd never eat something like that"

"Maybe not… But, do you still have that snack for me?"

"The what? You mean the bread?"

I nodded. I'll feel like such an idiot if I'm wrong. So I hope I'm right.
When Farkas handed me the bread, I peeled off the layer of cheese to examine the dough inside.

"hmm…" I looked and looked. If I could find evidence of tempering, my theory would be proven true. "Ah, HA!" Found some glinting under some candlelight. "If the baker was paid off, or hell, a sympathiser, he could sprinkle silver shavings into his dough. Humans would just pass it after a while. But if you're allergic to silver, that's an effective poison right there."
The only flaw would be silver showing throw the crust, but would anyone really be looking for metal traces in their food? It's the last thing you'd expect.

"So..." Farkas shook his head. "This is complicated. We should head back and tell the others, and see if the baker has really been selling this silvery bread"

"Might not just be bread" I tossed the roll away "He could be doing it to pastries, cakes or even..." Sweetrolls...
My heart stopped. My face felt cold. My palms shaking.

"Robin?"

"Those… heartless… Bastards!" I fell to my hands and knees. Tears falling to the floor.
How could they do this? Sweetrolls are my jam! "Don't mess with a girl's snacks… It's Not Right!" I felt my arms shake. My fingernails scraped along the stone floor.

"Robin, Calm down…!"

"How Can I be Calm FaRKas? They might have poisoned the only good and innocent Thing in this Whole World!"

Farkas looked as worried as I felt. Is he a sweetroll fan too?
Screw the companions. He and I should start the revolution of sweets!

But then, just as I thought we were on the same wavelength, he walked up to me and pulled the knot on my armour, causing it to break away from me.

"You perverted SICKO!" I roared at him as he ran away.

Did I just roar?

The following morning…
In the woods…

"The nearest town is three miles southwest. Designation, Falkreath"

"Disregarding that I'm partly covered in blood, I'm not wandering into town naked, Omnico" I sat against a tree trunk covering my chest and scratching my bright red ankle. "What's wrong with my leg anyway?"

"First-degree burns…"

"Seriously?" Wish I could remember what caused that.
I pulled my leg closer, taking a moment to consider my options.
I'm alone in the woods, naked, suffering from burns, and my only help is a sassy robot that would sooner mock me than offer assistance.
"Omnico, initiate suicide protocol…"

Omnico turned to face me. The top half opened up, allowing a mechanised frame wielding a bolt action gun to pop up.

"I was Kidding!" I screamed, backing up against the tree in an uncoordinated, desperate attempt to get away.

"Unknown species detected!" Omnico announced, turning his gun to face into the bush. "Approaching from the south!"

My heart was still thumping, but at least he's not going to shot me.
"Hang on a second… if you kill an unknown entity of this world, wouldn't that break protocol?" Wow, hypocrisy this early in the morning tastes amazing.

"You are correct" The gun retracted. "Goodbye" Then he vanished.

"… little bastard…" Now I need to deal with this creature of unknown species.

I could hear the bush rustling. Could see the foliage swaying as something pushed its way to the front.
Two big eyes looked on from the dark, baring its teeth as it walked out from the bush and stood before me.
It dropped a small bag on the ground, then sat to stare at me, its little tail wagging.

"A dog… really Omnico?" I sighed, walking up to it. "Hello~" I said, giving his furry face a cheerful rub.

"Hello!"

Heart thudded against my chest as I stood tall.

"Who's there!" I demanded. One arm arms went to cover my chest as I covered one leg over the other. "D-don't come closer!" I command the unknown voice.
I looked around. Didn't see any movement. It's just me here.
Was I imagining it?

"This is yours, isn't it?"

Not imagining it, someone is really close to me. But where?

"It smells like you, so I think it must be"

My eyes fell on the doggie. His warm brown eyes looking up to me with is tongue hanging out and panting away.

"Doggie, are you talking to me?"

"My name is Barbas!" The voice said. To my fearful horror, I think it was coming from the dog. "I'd like to ask you for a favour if you would"

I look at the bag. Inside are clothes, a tunic and some boots.

"No" I say before taking the clothes, turning my back on the talking dog and going back to the tree to get dressed.

"What!?" The dog followed me. "But why? I helped you!"

"Can't hear you"

"Yes you can!"

I pull the tunic over my head and pat the front and back down. I wish I had some undies or tights to wear under it, but beggars can't be choosers, not that I intend to go around begging for undies.

"Miss! Miss!" The dog yelped and jumped up at my legs, trying to get my attention. "Miss! I need you! Miss!"

"Quiet!" I yelled at him.

His ears went down. Big puppy eyes.

"Please miss?"

"No… I'm not doing this!" I pulled the boots on and started walking away.

"But why?"

"Because you're a talking dog!" I yelled back at him. "Either I'm going crazy right now and talking to you is just me validating that theory. Or…"

"You had no problem speaking to before you knew I could talk. Isn't it crazier to speak to something that can't talk back?"

"Not listening!" I tell him. "If I'm not crazy, then I'm dreaming. And if that's the case, I'm gonna fly away now. So goodbye talking doggie! Sayonara~!"

I looked up at the sky, setting my course in my head. Destination, anywhere!

I jumped. Landed.
I jumped higher. Landed again.

"You can't fly, you're not crazy, and I'm talking to you, miss!"

"Those last two things contradict each other…" I sighed picking up the empty bag and wore it over my shoulder. If this isn't a dream, I'm not going to start littering in this beautiful woodland.
"If you really are a talking dog, then…" I felt the wolf ring on my finger. "Is this because… did I become a wolf last night?" I had a feeling that might have been what happened to me. "Niik didn't say talking to dogs would be a side effect… Not that he would know…" He didn't give any indicator that he ever wore the ring himself.
With a gentle smile, I approached the dog.
"Okay, I'm sorry I was so cold before, I've had a trying morning…" I fluffed his fuzzy face some more. "If talking to dogs is a side effect of this Daedra nonsense then, I guess I can call myself lucky, this is a fun side effect~"

"Does that mean you'll help me return to my master?"

"That's all you wanted?" I giggled, feeling silly about refusing. "Then, of course, I'll help you" If I recall, Omnico said the nearest town was only three miles southeast.
"This will be an easy side quest for me!"

Robin: Oh FFS. Can you pick a plot and stick to it?

Author: That's not how you play Skyrim, Robin. You run about for an hour swinging your sword at things, find a quest, then about halfway through it an entirely different quest will find You, so you start to follow that one. I genuinely forgot I was the Dragonborn, and that Alduin was a thing during my first playthrough.

Robin: Not everyone has the attention span of a two-year-old...

Author: This coming from the girl going the wrong direction?

Robin: oh...