Vilkas was drinking a tankard of mead when it started, relaxed and smiling at the conversation between Vignar and Farkas. Farkas wasn't truly as empty headed as he pretended to be at times, but he used it to his complete advantage when talking to Vilkas or Vignar. Vilkas was just glad it wasn't himself being frustrated this time. Vignar looked about out of patience, his fingers clicked away on the tabletop like an irritated spider.
It had been several weeks since he'd last seen Eliana. She'd found Skjor that day and he'd whispered something to her. Whatever the proposed quest had been, she was either having trouble accepting or finishing it, as he hadn't seen hair or hide of her since.
Halfway through a swallow, Vilkas heard the roar.
Along with everyone else in Whiterun.
His blood chilled like a mage had sprayed a frostbite spell down his back and he choked on the ale. His throat and eyes burned, the latter filling with tears. As he finished sputtering and reached for his sword, it only took him that short moment to connect all the pieces. The roar was distinctive of species, but not familiar and it would be highly unlikely for a werewolf to wander into Whiterun.
Damn them.
He swallowed his rising snarl on a raw throat and barked at Athis and Njada, "Protect Jorrvaskr. No one but us gets in."
"Aye," Njada said sharply, snatching an iron axe off a nearby table. Athis and Njada were taking up position at the entrance doors as Ria and Torvar silently copied and covered the back.
Farkas already had his sword out as he looked at his brother, "Could it be-"
Vilkas silenced him with a look, "Problem first. Speculate later."
Farkas nodded as Vilkas unsheathed his own sword. They and Kodlak, who had come running up the lower stairs at the call, ran out into Whiterun. It hadn't taken long, almost no time at all from when the roar had sounded, but it was enough to cause chaos. Near the base of the Shrine of Talos, illuminated by the bowls of flame lay the mauled body of that loud priest.
As they rushed down to the city proper, Vilkas fought to keep his footing on the rain slicked stairs, sliding more than running. The air near the ancient tree was filled with the smell of fresh blood and the screams of scared Nords. In the distance, the sound of paws on the ground was heading toward the front gates of the city, low whimpers audible even from this distance, at least for the blooded. He hoped the guards wouldn't be stupid enough to try and stop the beast's escape, trapping it in with them to be slaughtered like foxes trapped in their den with a bear.
"We'll head toward the market," Kodlak shouted at Vilkas, his beard and hair soaked by the downpour. "Check the body."
Farkas was already heading down the steps to the Plains District, scared residents that had been caught outside late running past him, their faces stark white in the darkness. Kodlak chased after him, his old legs carrying him faster than Vilkas would have credited. Most of the residents headed for the temple of Kynareth, likely hoping the divine would protect them from such a monster.
He nearly protested to Kodlak, as he couldn't imagine what he was looking over the body for. He was a wise enough lad to suspect Kodlak of protecting him from what was down there, what he might have to do to protect his city. Who he might have to do it to. Following the order of his Harbinger, he stalked toward the corpse, sword still unsheathed. A duo of guards were standing near the body, one of them kneeling near him but not daring to touch. He looked up as Vilkas approached, "It was a werewolf. I've never seen anything like it."
"What did you see?" he asked, tone not to be denied.
"I was patrolling the steps to Dragonsreach when I heard the roar. I'm not sure where it came from, but it was loud, so loud I thought it to be right next to me. Then I saw it come tearing from behind Jorrvaskr. It looked around for a long time, even chased itself around the Gildergreen like it was mad. Then Heimskr yelled for help, turning for the temple. Before I could draw my sword, before I could move, the monster was upon him. Tore him limb from limb. Poor man didn't even have time to scream."
The guard still standing nodded, "I saw it too. I was near the Battle-Born's and came running. I just hope they killed it before it could get anyone else."
Vilkas clenched his jaw at the revulsion in his words and bent down to examine the body. Heimskr's robes and the flesh beneath had been shredded with claws sharp as steel, leaving him barely recognizable. His heart had been consumed, a gaping hole next to the deep gouges exposing cracked bone. His left arm was nearly torn off, hanging by a scrap of skin, the severed tendons still dripping with blood. The robes were thoroughly soaked red, only small pieces still its original golden color. Coarse black fur clung in some sections sticky with gore. The guard was right. It had been quick and it had been brutal.
Using his heightened senses, he took a deep breath seemingly in sorrow and scented the area. His eyes widened when he got the answer he didn't want.
Damn them! How dare they!
Barely controlling his rage, the possessiveness filling his gut, he stood, "Have the body brought to Andurs."
He spoke with such authority the guards didn't seem to notice he was ordering them around. He looked at the clouds. The barest hint of color was coming to the night sky, only barely visible behind the clouds of a late winter rain. Dawn was coming, but it was still a long way off. Residents of the Wind and Plains Districts were out, not quite sure where to go. Mothers struggled to keep their children inside, keeping them safe from the carnage, but still wanting to see for themselves if the threat was over. Many people held weapons, weapons that would do no good against that sort of creature.
Mercifully, there were no more dead bodies on the paths to the doors, though there were several injured. A few guards had gotten swiped, but none were dead yet. Looking at the state of their injuries as he passed, he thought one or two of them may be blessed to see morning at all. Any bloody paw prints that may have marked the ground were washed away with the night's rain, now easing to just a sprinkle. Passing Carlotta's stall, he could hear Nazeem shouting to anyone who would listen that he would swear 'the thing' had lunged at him. Privately, Vilkas was disappointed she hadn't gotten a bite in.
As he approached the doors that were slightly ajar, he could see deep claw marks scratched into the paneling, as if it had tried to tear its way out when the doors wouldn't open quick enough.
Kodlak was speaking with Commander Caius who looked dumbstruck by the night's events and Farkas standing just outside the city doors talking to someone he couldn't quite see, obscured by the darkness and door. Kodlak looked over for just a moment, "Head back to Jorrvaskr and check on the rest. Make sure no one was injured. Then head to the Circle's council room. We'll be there shortly to convene."
He nodded and turned to head back the way he'd just come when a little head poked her head out of the home next to Warmaiden's. It was the little brown haired girl who'd been spending her days on the benches in front of the Gildergreen just some weeks ago, begging for coin. Now that he'd thought about it, he hadn't seen her there in weeks.
"Lucia!" an armored woman tried to grab her as she pushed out the door. "Get back here now!"
Lucia ran directly up to Vilkas, "Sir, have you seen my momma? Is she alright?"
Despite himself, he held a hand up to the woman and knelt down to her level, "Was your momma home with you?"
"No, sir," she shook her head. "My momma came in earlier just before dark. She's away often. She spoke a bit to Lydia and then took off again."
"I'm sure she's fine," he tried to assure her.
The girl's eyes filled with tears. By Ysmir! "Lydia said there was a monster outside. My momma would have tried to protect us."
He wanted to get up and walk away from the crying girl, but instinct to protect had him putting a hand on her tiny arm, "I can keep an eye out for her, Lucia, and let you know if I find out anything, alright? What was her name?"
"I-I...I don't know," she bit her lip and looked back at the woman in the doorway.
Shaking her head, the woman came out to stand next to them, "Lucia, please, get inside. It's very late."
"But he needs to know momma's name!" she insisted, even stamping her foot a bit. "He said he's going to help make sure she's okay, but I don't know her name!"
"It's okay, Lucia!" she shushed her, pushing her lightly toward the door. "I'll talk to him and make sure he knows. You just head on in, okay?"
Clearly not happy, but tired and out of fight, she girl trudged inside and closed the door. The woman shook her head again, "I'm sorry about her. I swear, she means well but she's a right handful. A bit like her mom, to be honest, though her mom never birthed her."
Vilkas smiled despite himself, "Adoptive parents have a way of rubbing off on their children."
"Indeed. I'm Lydia, by the way. Housecarl to Eliana Fire-Sword, but currently just charged with maintaining her home here and the child living there," she shook his hand, which froze on her name.
"This...this is Eliana's home? Eliana is her mother?" Vilkas asked, dread growing in his stomach.
"Yes. Why?" her face grew pale. "Is..is she-"
"She's fine, as far as I know," he forced a calm expression on his face. "I just wasn't aware she had a home in the city, much less taken in a child."
Her face relaxed, "Yes, it is. She has many homes throughout Skyrim that she's earned. She tells me that she's opened her doors in each one to children living in the area that don't have anywhere else to go. Always seems to have time to stop and play a game with them whenever she's in the city too. She's not around often, busy as she is, but always has time for the children."
His head was pounding. What would she think if he told her who he suspected the beast to be? Rage began simmering again in his stomach. All that she could have thrown away!
Saying a goodbye he didn't quite comprehend, too lost in his own thoughts, he stalked back through the Plains district, past citizens that were more asleep than awake, and up through the Wind District until he got to Jorrvaskr, the only place he'd ever felt truly safe.
Until she came into his life.
He remembered only a scant second before he would have shoved open the doors to the main hall that Njada was standing near the entrance with an axe, and he wouldn't put it past her to shove the axe into his face even knowing who he was. He banged a fist against the door until Athis opened it sword first, "Lower the blade. All clear."
Immediately doing what was asked, he backed up and retreated to the table with Ria and Torvar, who were putting their weapons away as well. Only Njada kept hers drawn, "What happened, Vilkas? And where are the others?"
"Kodlak and Farkas are dealing with the city guard and taking count of the city. Skjor, Aela, and Eliana are thought to have left on a hunt before it happened, but we'll confirm when they reappear. That priest of Talos, Heimskr, is the only fatality I know of," Vilkas explained, breezing through the half-lie with ease.
Njada huffed, finally setting the axe down, "But what happened?"
He moved toward the back doors in silence not wanting to answer, feeling their eyes on him as he did. As he stomped across the hall, his boots were sticking oddly to the wooden floor as he realized belatedly that his boots were still sticky in places with blood, as if the mud he tracked in wasn't going to be annoying enough for Tilma. The Haggard, indeed.
He rubbed his eyes with the forefinger and thumb of his right hand. A time like this and he was worried about house cleaning?
"Vilkas?" Ria asked softly from behind him. The tone of her voice reminded her oddly of Lucia, the stark worry for someone you consider family. How much could he hide from these people, protect them, coddle them, before it was too much? More harm than good, as they say.
He straightened with a heavy sigh, "It was a werewolf attack."
The utter silence that followed his answer was such he could hear a skeever fart. Athis was the first to speak, "Truly? A...a werewolf?"
"In Whiterun? Where in the world would that get in?" Ria asked, the quiver in her voice giving the fear away that her posture hid.
Vignar stood near the bedrooms on the north side of the hall, Brill stood just slightly in front of him. Vilkas shared a long and severe look with the old man. If the rest of the people in the hall had no idea where a werewolf may come from, the old man did. Even likely had an idea of who was responsible. Still, he was sharp enough to know why that secret was a secret and didn't belong to the rest of those gathered.
After a moment, the elder man shook his head slightly and returned to the chamber behind him. Vilkas faced the rest, "Where it got in doesn't matter right now. Tomorrow, we will offer our skills and service to the guards as the conduct their investigation. It was likely a rogue incident, but the guards will have to make sure in these times. With the war, vampires, and dragons, adding werewolves to the list may push some of the cityfolk a little too far. That is our main purpose. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter who or how or why. This happened in our city in to our people. They need to know that we'll be there to protect them if this ever happens again or they may begin to lose faith in us, in what we stand for."
He let his words ring out, sinking in as the fires crackled around them. Ria nodded enthusiastically, Njada's stubborn posture had taken on a fierce edge, and even Torvar was standing resolute next to Athis. Athis shifted from foot to foot unsettled, clearly uncertain around the idea of taking on a werewolf. Honestly, Vilkas thought he was the wisest of the bunch, if not the bravest.
"Head down to the lower levels and get some rest. Tomorrow, the city of Whiterun will know they can depend on us again, but not if we all look like exhausted drunkards," He put a lightness in his tone he didn't really feel.
Torvar leaned over and whispered something in Ria's ear that made her chuckle and shove on his arm before throwing that same arm around her shoulders and walking off toward the communal bedroom. Tilma popped her gray head up as the rest were going down, ready to tend to the hall as the warriors sleep. Vilkas stomped across to the back doors and shoved them open. The air was still misty with rain, but the majority of it had stopped, leaving the air heavy with moisture. It wasn't going to get cold enough in their small area for everything to freeze over, but it wasn't going to be pleasant.
As he pressed against the door to the Underforge, he could hear voices loudly from within which stopped abruptly when the door shut behind him with a long scraping sound. Farkas was standing just inside the entrance of the short tunnel, arms crossed against his armored chest as he leaned back on the cold, stone wall. He watched Vilkas with a wariness he only rarely saw, when he thought Vilkas was going to lash out. It set his hackles rising, nostrils flaring for a potential threat.
Kodlak stood behind the great stone basin, still filled with Aela's tainted blood, beginning to congeal and grow rank. He, too, watched Vilkas with that same expression. More than Farkas that disturbed him. What had he done to become so untrustworthy.
The truth was standing in the archway to the exit of the Underforge, his arms down at his sides, palms turned up to present as little threat as possible. His creased face showed remorse, however little it was, but also pride and a particular cussed obstinance unique to him.
Skjor.
"Son of a-" No one moved as Vilkas quickly slammed Skjor against the stone wall, pinning him by the neck with his wrist and bellowed. "WHAT IN OBLIVION WERE YOU THINKING?"
"Let me down, Vilkas," Skjor rasped. He didn't move in anyway.
Vilkas' vision was taking on a red film and was blacking at the edges, tunneling his line of sight. Perfectly predatory. He snarled, unaware that his nails and teeth were lengthening and eyes turning a brilliant shade of amber, "Answer the damned question, Skjor! How in Tamriel did you think this would be a good idea? Did she even know the damned risks? Did you explain everything to her? Or did you keep those pretty details to yourself until she did what you wanted?"
Skjor's face was beginning to purple, but still the man didn't react, just watched him. Vilkas felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him slightly, "Let him down, Vilkas. Remember yourself."
He glanced back over his shoulder and saw Kodlak looking at him with a grace he didn't deserve. The beast had nearly won again. With a growl deep in his gut, he dropped his arm and Skjor along with it, who fell to the ground and coughed twice harshly. Just to be safe, Vilkas stalked to the other side of the chamber, his back to the other men, "I still need to know. Did she know the risks?"
"Risks? She's among the best of us, Vilkas, and you know it. You think that pitiful ceremony in the yard is fitting for a warrior like her? That it would let her be the best she is?"
He couldn't stop himself from turning again, whirling around nearly right into his brother's chest, who had moved quietly to stand between him and Skjor, "So instead of letting her be a Companion like she wanted, you had to give her soul to Hircine without warning her of it?"
"Are you blind, Brother?" Skjor mocked, waving a hand flippantly. "Do you truly see her as something pure? Do you not see the things she's already had to do that mark her? Her soul was spoken for long before she gave Hircine a piece."
"Skjor-" Kodlak warned.
"I don't give a mammoth's hide if she dug it out and carved it up herself!" he seethed. "This was a Circle decision. We all should have had a vote in it. It was our right as members and you stole that from us."
"And that's what's really eating at you, isn't it?" Skjor countered. "That you couldn't step in. That there's not way to say you tried to save her."
"Skjor! Enough!" Kodlak intervened. "Regardless of how this all came to pass, what's done is done. The girl is one of us now. It's our responsibility to care for her and adjust her to this new life. Where is she?"
"Aela followed her out of the city. I'm sure the girl has passed out by now and is resting. Aela will be watching over her as she does."
"Because that worked so well for the people of this city," Vilkas barked back. "Honestly, Skjor-"
"Vilkas, enough," Kodlak sighed. "Skjor, go find Aela and Eliana before they can get into anymore trouble. After the girl wakes up, I want you all back here to answer for what you have done. If we didn't get a vote in the decision, we can still have a vote in how to handle it. A person is dead because of what you have done."
Suitably chastised, Skjor's shoulders hunched slightly, "I do apologize, Kodlak. It's been so long since another was changed, we'd forgotten how disorienting it can be. After she shifted, she panicked and ran straight out into the city."
"Likely because she hadn't been properly prepared," Kodlak responded quietly. "If she didn't know exactly what to expect, that the senses would be overpowered so, her beast instincts probably took over. She would have been no more than a cornered animal."
"Aye," Vilkas confirmed, the fight draining out of him. The three other men visibly relaxed. "The guards near Heimskr's body confirmed as much. She was chasing herself around the tree, probably unsure of what to do with herself, but wasn't seeking out to harm anyone. She didn't start any attack until Heimskr yelled for help. It likely caused the beast to rear."
Farkas grunted, "The guards manning the doors said she tried to avoid the people on the ground as she ran for the doors."
Skjor nodded, "From what we could see as we chased her, she was running in and out of them like a fox. When she got to the doors, she roared again and began tearing at them. She didn't turn around and attack like she could have. She wanted out."
Vilkas felt his chest tighten with something warm and startling. Eliana certainly wasn't perfect nor was she pure, but she didn't want to cause needless harm. He didn't doubt she would if there was coin involved, he'd heard rumors of such antics, but gratuitous slaughter was beyond her even in her distorted state of mind.
With Skjor's last words, he turned and left to go find his cohorts. When he was gone, Kodlak turned to face the brothers, "It's more imperative than ever that we find that cure. Keep working on the tasks I've given you."
"And you?" Farkas asked.
"I'm working on a special task that is almost complete," Kodlak smiled, though it was guarded. "I just need someone of special talent to carry it out. That's why it's so important that Skjor bring Eliana back soon. She has a skill set we need."
"Is that why you let a thief, an assassin, into our home?" Vilkas asked, brow furrowed.
"Not entirely. And despite what I and many others have told you of thieves and assassins, they do have a certain code of honor they follow, even if different from ours. Sometimes it's good to have some new blood in our mix here. It gets a little bland after a while," Kodlak chuckled.
Farkas snorted with him and walked out of the Underforge. Vilkas stood just a moment longer, looking over the older man. There was nothing inherently off about him, but some subtle marker that triggered a flash of intuition. "There's something you're not telling us."
"There's much I don't tell you, until the time is right. It's not that time yet. Why don't we have an early breakfast, given that our late night was so rudely interrupted?"
He knew better than to push, but a heavy weight like old bread had lodged in his middle. It was a foreboding feeling, an impending catastrophe lurking in the periphery of his vision, jumping back out of sight whenever he tried to catch it. He could only hope it kept those he loved out of its focus.
Thank you for reading! A bit on this chapter, I never really liked how (at least in the versions I play), after you become a werewolf, you're deposited into Whiterun to cause as much mayhem as possible. From a story standpoint, I thought that was really irresponsible on Aela and Skjor's parts and it left your character in an interesting situation. As I'm sure you're aware, as the player, you have complete control of your faculties after you turn. However, as Aela mentions later in the quest, it's usually troublesome for werewolves their first time, and even later mentions how many werewolves surrendered themselves/lost themselves to the beasts. In that respect, it almost doesn't make sense for your character to have complete control of themselves. I really liked that idea, especially if you're role playing as a character like Eliana who has no problem with killing for a purpose or if she has no choice, but is deeply disgusted with killing for killing's sake.
Regardless, thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy what is to come.