So, I've decided to do this. Don't like this chapter in some parts, and I'm writing on the Notes app of my phone. What that means is the longer the chapter, the more I have to edit when I post this, because I have to change things to bold, italic, and I have to do it all manually. Yup. It sucks. If you guys know a better mobile option, please tell me! My computer doesn't really work, and I don't have a Laptop at the moment. Anyways, I'm super tired. So here. Companions! Tell me if I got their characters right, I haven't played Skyrim in years, and I only did the Companions quest line once. Really hoping to get SE soon, never played it with mods before and it looks fun.
Also, Werwolves kick Vampire ass. (Unrelated, for now...)
~Line-Break~
I couldn't see anything, just a blood red haze. I could barely even think. The emotions I'm feeling are indescribable. There were emotions I've never felt so strongly.
Anger. Hatred. Bloodlust.
Fear.
I could only feel these things, a slave in my own body. (Was it even my body anymore?)
Slowly, my mind began to come together again. I started to regain consciousness, albeit extremely slowly. The emotions started to weaken, becoming a dull, easily ignorable throb at the back of my mind. The red haze was still there, and when I tried to wipe it away, my mind came under assault.
I was sucked away from my physical body, and put into a rainbow of color and darkness; indescribable. I was attacked by a feral beast, and the attack came from everywhere around me.
I was almost completely defenseless. Almost.
It was my mind, and I had an instinctive advantage here. I recalled everything that had happened before I came here, and knew I was being attacked by the wolf spirit.
I 'curled' up into a ball, but having no physical form at the moment was throwing me off, making me reliant on instinct instead of rational thought. I was protected from the 'clawing' for now, but I could tell it wouldn't hold. I had to do something.
But what? I had no idea HOW the Beast Blood worked, only that to cure it you had to draw the spirit out and defeat it. (This was nothing like the game) But I was in my mind, trapped with it. Could I subjugate it? Make it my slave, become its master? (Where was all the control, the third person?) I was tempted to try, but I also knew that slaves resented and tried to kill their masters. Besides, I probably wouldn't be able to.
I needed to calm it, or expel it from my mind. I knew that magic was real in this world, but I was not a native. For all I knew, I could burn from the inside out if I tried; and I didn't know anything about magic, anyways.
Calming it was it, then. But how? I knew nothing of taming wild animals. And the mental 'strikes' were getting stronger. I could barely think straight! I decided to try reason. It was a creature, and they could 'sense' intentions, right?
'Stop!'
The attacks continued.
'Stop!'
Stronger.
'STOP!'
More powerful.
'STOP!'
More forceful!
'STOP!'
And they stopped.
I slowly 'uncurled' and took in a 'look' of the surroundings. The beast was there, an ever shifting formless mass of instinct and hatred. It coiled and snapped, and seemed to edge closer.
I needed to calm it down, but before I could even think of to how, it struck.
Time seemed to slow. It inched closer and closer, and instinct took over again. I lashed out, not with my voice or my 'hands', but with my mind.
We collided, feral savagery with rational intellect. Boundless anger with artificial calm. We battled, but I was losing.
I was a teenager who never did anything too stressful. It was a beast, an Apex Predator, made to hunt and kill. It was like a glass of water thrown in a bonfire.
But our minds merged. I knew, in that instant, anger, hatred and fear like no other. I knew without a doubt this monster would destroy everything in its path without hesitation. I experienced this hatred like it was my own.
But it also knew me. A laid back teenager, casual. I was smart. Lazy, but smart. I had raw intelligence that everyone told me to use. But I never did. It knew, for that one moment, how to think. It could rationalize and focus that rage.
We became, not one, but very close, for that one moment. And then we separated.
I looked at it. It looked at me. We compromised.
~Line-Break~
Aela knew, knew with all of her heart, that this was a bad idea. She would never admit it, and she knew it was necessary, but it would end badly; her gut was rarely wrong after all.
She and Skjor had tracked a Silver Hand wizard to this cave. After raiding a small encampment, she learned that they were trying to make extremely powerful werwolves to sniff carriers of the Beast Blood out, even in human form. It disgusted her, to see the results of the experiments.
After getting back to Jorrvaskr she tracked down Skjor and together they headed out to put a stop to it. It took them only two days to find the camp, and it was surprisingly underpowered. Only about 13 people in all, and only two of them on guard. Aela and Skjor made short work of them, and entered the cave.
It was a narrow tunnel, and Skor went first. Inside there was only a single hallway, with two open rooms on either side about three-fourths in, and four Silver Hand members clad in light armor, or cloths. They were on break, it seemed. They died fast, not getting a chance to set off an alarm. The only door, at the end of the hall, was made of heavy wood and braced with iron and silver.
They shared a look. Years of combat together had forged a strong bond, and they truly were Shield-Siblings. They formed a plan with nothing but a glance at each other. Together, they kicked down the door and entered.
Just in time to see the Mage pour a vial of Beast Blood and SOMETHING down a young Bretons throat. "No!" Shouted Aela as she drew her bow back. Before she could fire the arrow, however, the Mage pulled a lever, releasing all of the cages. He died shortly after, an arrow in his head.
There were only 3 underfed werewolves they had to deal with, until the boy finished his transformation. Aela drew back a steel arrow, launching the projectile into the throat of one, killing it. Skjor dodged a swipe from another before slicing its leg, and bashing its head when it fell. Now there was only one.
Before it could be dealt with, there was a spine chilling growl. Everyone in the room froze, before turning to the last open cage. Before anyone could react, an unusually large Werwolf leapt out of the cage formerly occupied by the boy, and tackled the last wolf, tearing its throat out with his teeth and clawing out its chest with his claws.
Aela glanced at Skjor, looking for a signal. He gave a nod before shield charging into the beasts back, knocking it over. Aela took this time to quickly remove her armor and shift into her Beast Form. Whatever the Mage had given the boy, it made him too strong to fight easily in such a confined space.
The second the shift was over, she sprinted the short distance and tackled the beast away from Skjor, grappling with it so he would have time to shift.
He was strong. Too strong for a new blood whelp. He was bigger than her, though not by much, with thicker arms. After a few seconds of wrestling Aela leapt back, deciding to keep him occupied until Sjor could help subdue him. She was fast, constantly weaving to and fro, biting and swiping at his sides, not to kill, but to distract. The boy-turned-beast was savage, snarling and clawing at her, with wide, slow swipes changing to fast, short ones, biting at every chance. Soon, both were covered in minor wounds that were already healing, Aela much faster than the boy.
Suddenly, a massive Werwolf tackled the boy, and they descended into a rolling pile of teeth and claw for a few moments. After the short battle, Skjor had pinned the boy down, teeth at his neck. Though the boy was unusually large for a wolf his age, Skjor was still significantly taller and stronger. In fact, he had the strongest Beast Form of the Circle, stronger than even Kodlak.
With the boy pinned, the Wolf now had to either go feral and die, or communicate with the human mind inside it to gain enough intelligence to escape. It was rare that the Circle encountered werwolves they didn't kill in conflict, but significantly less rare that they found a new blood on their first transformation. This was a tactic that usually worked, but it might also fail.
Slowly, the rage left the beasts eyes, and he transformed back, naked and unconscious, but alive and relatively unharmed. Skjor and Aela also transformed, and went to get their armor to cover their forms.
After a few minutes, they gathered around the boy. Aela observed him. He was strange, she would admit that. He had fair skin, brown hair, and was only lightly muscled but had potential for the sword-and-shield combo, maybe a bow. He was around 16, maybe 17. No scars, except the quickly healed scratch marks he gained in his short fight with them. That reminded her of a dull throbbing on her left arm, and when she looked the huntress hid a grimace. The boy got her good, she would admit.
The sound of boots made her turn around to Skjor, only to find him giving her a neutral stare.
"Oh, don't be like that, Skjor! He was lively, for a newblood, and a whelp at that! I was curious to see who could give us at least a minor challenge." She said, crossing her arms. Skjor's expression didn't change. Aela sighed, "Alright, watch him, I'm going to find out what they did to the boy."
Skjor gave a grunt and a nod, before staring at the boy, waiting for him to wake up. Aela new it would be a few hours, at least, because the first transformation was always the hardest. Sparing one last look at the whelp, she walked over to the table littered with knives, books and scrolls.
After a quick search, she found emerald books on Conjuration magic, with notes on summoning. 'Well, that's how he was getting the poor souls for his experiments.' She thought. After more searching, she found a journal, with an inkwell and recently used quill. Aela gave a sigh of relief before opening it to read.
'Tirdas, 3 Morning Star, 4E 200
Today marks excellent progress. I have made extreme improvements of my summoning ritual, and am not limited to the local populace for my experiments. I will bring in a new subject later today, and use a new mixture of Beast Blood and Alchemy, to see if I can make one stronger or more durable. I've mixed a very rare and powerful Strength Potion with the Blood of one of the stronger subjects. I've also used Troll and Giant parts, to see if I can increase their magic resistance. Maybe I'll summon a Breton? I'll proceed with the experiment tomorrow. I need them awake and the summoning always knocks them out for a day.
I need to make more progress, Krev is getting impatient and is soon ready to scrap this whole idea! It took too long to get him to agree, and I'm getting so much information on these animals! This data is amazing. The animals have incredible strength even in their human forms, and I've had to start reinforcing the cages with steel, because they bend the iron when they turn for the first time.
So far I've only summoned Nords and Imperials, maybe if I use an Elf sacrifice I'll get a Breton? I wonder what that races natural magic resistance would do when the shift? Would they get stronger, or would they burn the Blood out, dying? I need to get right on that! I only have one more summoning sacrifice, and I need to use it now, the ritual will expire soon.
I will summon a subject now, and finish the experiment tomorrow, I think Krev is going to cut this off soon.'
Aela was disgusted that a human being could do something so horrible. The Mage was messing with dangerous things, to experiment with Werwolf Blood. But, she considered, the information in the journal painted a useful picture. The boy, when he woke up, would be incredibly strong. If the journal was correct, then the whelp would be faster, stronger, more durable and magic resistant than average. He would be a great warrior.
But first, Aela looked around the room with a sneer, she and Skjor had to destroy the camp. Aela saw a cabinet, and after checking inside she found a few spare cloths. Grabbing a shirt and pants, she walked back over to Skjor and the boy.
She threw them at Skjor, saying "Put these on him," before cleaning up the camp. First she got rid of the bodies, calling in some wolfs and scavengers, and then she grabbed the journal and most of the books.
When she came back inside, she found Skjor with the whelp over his shoulder, ready to depart. "Come, Shield-Brother! We need to get back to Jorrvaskr!" Aela said. Skjor nodded, more silent that usual.
And with that, they left for Whiterun.
~Line-Break~
I was... Warm? I could feel the freezing cold wind all around me, even feel snow beneath me; why was I warm?
I also felt like I got hit by a truck, jumped off a building, then went five rounds with Chuck Norris.
"Ah," an unfamiliar but also familiar voice said, "he's awake! Skjor, get him some food."
I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Then the second. Then I almost shit my pants.
In order, I saw billions of stars, twinkling and glowing against a backdrop of nothing, blanketed with an Aurora so bright and colorful I felt like I had lived blind before this. Then I saw a drop dead redhead, wearing face paint and some kind of sexy warrior cosplay that showed some appreciated cleavage (I was a teenager, hormone imbalance was my excuse and I was sticking to it!). Then I saw the biggest guy I had ever seen. He was 6'8, at least. And he was all bulky muscle, he looked like he could wrestle a bear! He was wearing heavy looking steel that looked heavier than me. He reached over and handed me some jerky.
I reached out hesitantly. My arm shook badly and it took all my willpower to keep it steady enough take the snack. I looked at the two of them, to the fire, to the massive wilderness under the most beautiful sky I had ever seen, and sighed.
"So," I began. "What happened?"
The woman, who looked so familiar, gave a small laugh. "Oh, poor whelp, you're a Werwolf now. You were experimented on by a wizard. We," she gestured to herself and the walking mountain, "saved you." She gave me an expectant look.
I looked down at my form, covered in only thin, uncomfortable clothes, not even wearing shoes (those were my favorite boots), and then at the frozen land around me. I gave a small nod, sat back, and got comfy. Then I looked at them, and said my catchphrase.
"Fuck."
Then I closed my eyes to think. (I did not faint!)
~Line-Break~
Ok, next chapter! I really need to work on my other stuff, but I think I'll put them on hold. The SI idea is surprisingly easy to wright. I think I'll put the other stuff on hold for now, maybe continue this. Don't forget to review! I need ideas if this is to continue. Do you guys think Morgan should follow Aela and Skjor, or should he strike out on his own? He's definitely going to try magic, maybe make his own stuff. (Jedi are cool, but Sith shoot lightning!)
For you guys wondering, Morgan is now a Proto-Wolf. I call him that because of the unique alchemical mixture added to the Beast Blood that turned him. His stats are boosted, and he's got that Plot Armor taking care of his figure so he doesn't have to constantly work out. I'm lazy, so what? Basically, think of a teenager with only basic fighting abilities that can punch through brick and is 50% resistant to magic.
I want to say Morgan is level 15, on Lengendary, and everyone else is level 40 on average. He could kick the shit out of a lot of people, but he's got no weapons. And no fighters instinct. And no magic. And no shoes. I really liked those boots.
Really, all he's got is strength, healing, and enough sarcasm to make Spidey jealous.
Anyway, that's enough. It's going to take me hours to add in all the bold, italics, and, well, everything. I don't know how beta reading works, especially since I do this from my phone, so I do this all on my own.
See you next time!
