SI #3

Ok. Ok. I can do this! My head is throbbing, I can barely see, but I can do this! Really not feeling well right now. Also still on my phone. I think I'll take time with this one, wait for more reviews to come in. Sure, I've only gotten 2 so far, and none with story ideas, but they'll come eventually! I'm optimistic. Not sure if you noticed, but I put the date in the last chapter. It's currently Morning Star the third, 200. (That's January 3rd, I looked up Tamrielic time, God I'm a nerd) About 1 and a half years before Helgen gets flattened by the Nordic God of Destruction. Very sad. Wonder what the DB is up to?

P.S. I'm not editing this anymore. I'm tired of spending hours just making the authors notes in bold. Deal with it. It also means there will be no italics.

~Line-Break~

I didn't faint! I was just thinking. In my head. While asleep. In shock.

...

Fine, I was knocked unconscious due to stress. That's what happened. Yeah, stress...

Anyway, let's look at the facts. I need to take advantage of 'dream time', which make me immune to shock and impossibilities. (This doesn't sound like science...)

Fact one, I can kick a dog sized rat in the face hard enough to kill it. Fact two, I can survive inter-dimensional travel, which sounds very painful. Fact three, I'm a werewolf.

...

That's... Neat? Werewolves are way better than Vampires, short term at least. And they suit my usual play style. But if I'm really in Skyrim...

Shit. Shitty shit fuck. I'm in SKYRIM. Dragons are about, Vampires are coming out to eat everyone, HOUSES ARE BEING BUILT! And there are evil demon gods. Can't forget that.

Well, Meridia isn't evil.

If I'm here, I need to get back home.

...

Later. I'll get back home later. (Time to pull a Deadpool!) Now I know what you're thinking, 'Morgan, why don't you try to get home as soon as possible, don't you care?'

Yes, I do care. But I'm a werewolf. In SKYRIM. I can be anyone. A Mage, a Warrior! A thief! And the two people who rescued me were Aela and Skjor! Man, she was way hotter in person, too.

Back on track. Some cave dweller (hehe) Mage summoned me, if I get to the College of Winterhold, they could easily send me back. But to get there, I need to not die instantly. I may have (presumed) incredible strength now (and senses? What happened to me? I sense a montage in the near future!), but an Orc could probably rip me in two without even trying. And there were lizard people. And cat people.

At least I'm here, and not in Game of Thrones. I wouldn't even get rescued there.

So. I need a plan. For now, I'll stick with the two Companions, maybe see if they can give me some pointers on how to not die here. When we get to Whiterun, I'll see if I can do magic (SITH LIGHTING HERE I COME!) and maybe see exactly when I am. I only know what's coming if I'm before it happens, after all. The Companions will probably want to keep a close eye on me, so I'll need to be carful, no talking to myself.

And they called me Breton. I didn't think I was that short... Maybe I got a new body? God I hoped not, that would make my ongoing existential crises even worse. But, I considered, the magic resistance would be useful.

If I don't die.

This is gonna suck until I adjust. Which will take a few weeks. Dramatic sigh.

Fuck.

~Line-Break~

Aela and Skjor looked over the Bretons form. She turned to Skjor. "Is this supposed to happen?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Let's just hope he doesn't wake till morning." Aela gave a slow nod.

After a few minutes of silence, Aela broke the quiet. "Skjor, is something wrong?" She asked, concerned. The warrior stopped poking at the fire.

He gave a sigh. "What are we going to tell Kodlak, Aela? That we went Silver Hand hunting? We're on thin ice already. I don't want to make conflict in the Circle worse." He said. Skjor seemed genuinely, not upset, but slightly concerned. "You know we're not supposed to hunt down the Silver Hand." He continued. "It only increases their hatred."

Aela scoffed. "Oh, now you're sounding like a milk-drinker. We stopped inhumane experiments on innocent people. We saved a young newblood! We did the right think, and Kodlak will accept that." She said. Aela was very passionate, especially on a hunt.

Before they could continue, the sound of breathing change alerted their sensitive ears. They turned in unison to the boy, seeing that he was waking up.

The boy, whose name they still didn't know, cracked open an eye. He glanced around, stared at the two moons for a good minute, then sat up.

"So," he said. "What happens now that I've got a flea problem?"

Skjor grunted before turning back to the fire, ignoring him. Aela just barked out a laugh.

"Oh, this is going to be fun, Whelp!" She said. "My name is Aela and this is Skjor." She waved to the mini-giant. The Breton gave a slow nod.

"Well, my name is Morgan, and I don't really remember anything besides you telling me I'm a werewolf." The boy, now known as Morgan, said with a grin. He gave a small laugh. "Where are we right now?"

Aela gave the boy a look, studying his form, how he acted. Morgan suppressed a shiver, and not the good kind. She gave a nod, saying "You're in Skyrim, land of the Nords. We are members of the Companions, a group of warriors that are based in Whiterun."

"Now," she continued, "you need to sleep, heal. The first transformation is not the best. We will explain more in the morning, when we brake camp."

Morgan gave a nod, before drifting back to sleep.

Aela looked at Skjor. Skjor looked at Aela. "No." Aela said, laying down for bed.

Skjor understood. He got first watch.

~Line-Break~

The morning came too quickly, especially to me. I was lazy. Very, very lazy. Waking up was a long 15 minute process followed by a long hot shower to get the fog out of my eyes.

Here, I was kicked in the side with a metal boot.

"Aarrhh!" I yelled as I leapt up, fist swinging. Skjor gave a grunt of surprise as he got punched right in his stupid armored chest, taking a step back.

I, meanwhile, was busy nursing my (probably) broken hand. I looked at my fist. It was purple and bleeding. "Ow." I said, in the most monotone voice I could manage.

Aela threw something at me, and I caught it reflexively (Is this what superpowers are like?). "Drink that." She said, before going back to whatever she was doing.

I looked at the bottle in my good hand. It was red, and about the size of a small mug. With a start I realized it was a health potion. Hesitantly, because I had read health potions sucked more than once, I opened it and gave it a sniff.

Aela laughing drew my attention away from the bottle. She was laughing at me! "What's so funny?" I asked.

If anything she laughed even harder. Hell, even Skjor was laughing? What?

"Ah," Aela finished her cackling (CACKLING!), wiping a tear from her eyes. "You don't sniff potions unless you want to forget about the next month, Whelp." Oh.

Hastily, I pulled the bottle away from my face, but the sudden movement jerked my hand. Huh, weird. My pain tolerance was never this high. Maybe it was a werewolf thing.

"Anything else?" I asked dryly.

Aela shook her head and gave one last chuckle before finishing up with camp. I took a deep breath an downed the whole thing in one go.

And immediately wished I hadn't. It was like liquid lightning was racing through my body, searching, until it found my hand. Then it concentrated there, burning like fire; I could feel the bones snapping back into place, popped blood vessels regrowing. It was very painful, but I couldn't even react because it was over in a second.

"Woah." I settled for. Aela gave a nod, since when was she right next to me?

"Yes," she said. "The first potion is always the worst. They have to alter your body, so you don't die from the healing and ingredients. Cures for poison and disease are the worst, but we don't have to worry about them, do we?" She finished with a grin.

I gave a nod, thinking. I needed answers. Real answers.

I had a slight hesitation, only half a second, before I spoke.

"What does it mean to be a werewolf?" Immediately, Aela and Skjor grew somber.

Aela seemed to be the more vocal of the two, because she started talking first. "Werewolves are Lord Hircine's blessed. We have incredible strength, stamina, healing and durability. We are powerful warriors, but our strongest ability is Shifting into our wolf form." Here she seemed to, not hesitate, but grew more careful in her words. "Those of the Beast Blood are restless, and will never find comfort in sleep. Our instincts are stronger, we prefer our meat rare, and we hunger for the Hunt. I regularly hunt, both in my Beast and Human forms. We lust for blood, and if you are not careful, you will lose control and become feral." She ended with a time of warning.

I gulped. Man, she was intimidating...

"So I guess I need practice?" I asked, trying to shift the conversation somewhere else.

I did NOT like the gleam in Aela's eyes at that moment. What she said next would scar me forever.

"Yes, how about a race?"

~Line-Break~

Sorry it took so long, but here it is, the next chapter! I'm currently working on another story, it's Skyrim again. I'm still only in the first chapter, but I think I'll write till maybe chapter 10 before posting them. (Hint: How do you feel about Dishonored?)

Sorry, again, that it took so long. And sorry this has no BOLD. It takes so long to edit this, because I'm doing it from my phone and I have to manually change it in the safari tab. It's hard, man. So I'm just not doing it anymore.

Next chapter might come sooner or later, not sure yet. I WILL finish this, even though it is getting harder to write. Review!