Right, this will probably be the normal rate at which I upload chapters – every 3-7 days (due to school). I hope you enjoy this chapter, tell me if you feel I'm rushing it too much, or going too slow. I struggled with the beginning of this one, so I apologise if the quality is low at the start.
The doorway behind the wardrobe let into a small, stone tunnel which quickly opened out into a small room with cobblestone walls. There were two chests in the room not containing much and a large table in the centre. On this table were various sketches and diagrams of the bodies after the massacre. Orgnar gestured to them as he approached the table.
"Notice anything in common about all these victims?" Orgnar asked, a smirk appearing on his face.
"Yes... They were all attacked from the front...," he frowned, "Don't Werewolves usually come from behind? To get an advantage?" Replied Ljotur, mesmerised by the sketches.
"Exactly." Orgnar slid a picture of another body towards him, "This is how most Werewolves would attack." The sketch illustrated a body, too damaged to be able to recognise anyone. The throat was ripped open from behind and half the face gone.
"Where did you get these?" questioned Ljotur, suddenly a little more concerned, "No citizen should have access to this kind of information."
Orgnar simply replied with, "I have my sources."
Ljotur frowned again, but changed the subject, "I'm guessing I should follow a trail of bodies attacked like this then?"
"Yes."
"Could I take one of these for reference?" asked Ljotur, pointing at the sketches.
Orgnar paused, sighed and then handed over an image. In exchange for this Ljotur handed over a small bronze bag containing fifty septims, Orgnar smiled greedily.
"It's been good doing business with you." Ljotur said, before leaving.
Ljotur took in a breath of fresh air; the secret room had no ventilation and so the air was stale and musty. The sun was now high in the sky and the farmers were out attending to their crops. Ljotur pulled a map, envelope and the sketch out of his pocket. In the envelope there were reports of the attacks and extra information about werewolves. On the map were the locations of the reported attacks – these were marked in red. Ljotur slid the sketch into the envelope and placed it back in his pocket; he then found a small, wooden bench and sat down.
The locations on the map were also numbered. There were numbers one to nine scattered over the map. Ljotur decided to head for the most recent attack – The Whiterun Stables.
After passing under a large arched doorway Ljotur mounted his horse; it was a black stallion with a shiny, well-taken-care-of coat. There was a large piece of armour covering its head protecting it against headshots and it was saddled with sleeping equipment, a tent, food and water. He ordered his horse to turn and then saw an odd sight. A Guard, covered in blood and sweat, galloped around the corner on a horse. He was holding his hand to his left shoulder and sat leaning to one side, drowsily. It was only when he came closer that Ljotur realised the deep claw marks under his hand. Ljotur rushed off his horse and sprinted to the guard. He pulled him off the horse and carried him into Riverwood.
Upon awaking several hours later, the guard looked around the room. An Imperial sat next to him on a wooden chair and his wound had been covered by – no longer white – cloth.
"Thank the Divines - you're finally awake." Said Ljotur, half happy, half concerned.
"I'm glad to... just be away... from there..." replied the guard, who was struggling to say a sentence.
"I see that you are injured, and in great pain, but, could you possibly tell me anything about what happened," he glanced at the bandages, "Anything about the Wolf?"
"H-how did you... know?"
"I've been tracking this particular Lycanthrope for a while and have come to recognise it's... mark."
"I-I'm truly sorry... but... I'm afraid I cannot remember... much."
Ljotur sighed and headed for the door.
"Wait... I-It was outside Solitude... I'm afraid... that's it for now. I-If I remember... anymore... I'll deliver you a letter... Thank You, may Hircine aid you in your hunt."
"May I ask one more thing? Why come to Riverwood when you were in Solitude?" questioned Ljotur.
"M-My family lives... here, I thought of it first and j-just set off."
"Ok" Ljotur smiled, "Thank You."
He then bowed and exited the building. He mounted his horse once again and ordered it to turn. He pulled out his map, marked a red dot on it and scribbled the number 10 beside it.
The horse cantered for Solitude.
Alixya awoke curled up in a ball next to a river behind a cluster of rocks. Ragged, torn armour hung in tatters from her shoulders and waist while her hands, feet and head were all cold and bare. Her bag no longer hung from her back.
Alixya grumbled, moaned and crawled to the river. She sighed at the site of herself – Crusty, dried blood covered her lips, hands and neck and her teeth were coloured red. What had happened? Normally Alixya had several precious seconds to find somewhere to transform, or even just give her time to strip. She would then collect her armour after the beast began to recede, but still controlled her body.
After washing the blood off herself, Alixya turned to find a small pile of flesh, organs and bones. Some fur was visible in parts of the mangled flesh – Khajiit.
"That must've caused it..." Alixya thought to herself. Torn armour was also in the pile; more than one person had been killed – about seven from the looks of it, and multiple animals. The Werewolf didn't enjoy animals, but seemed to hunt them for the thrill.
She sighed, and then scavenged what she could from the bodies: an iron sword, a hunting bow and some steel arrows, a silver ring – something to sell – and a stained tunic.
She ripped some of the armour scraps from her body and made a belt and strap to fix the arrows and sword to before heading south, away from Solitude.
On the way Alixya began to wonder. Could she keep the beast under control? It was calm now, but after a few days it would become restless. Alixya could keep it under for a week or so after this feeling, but it always managed to tear its way out. Then it dawned on her, what if she transformed more often? Perhaps she'd be able to keep it under control more because the bloodlust would be less?
She stopped and pondered about this thought. She could try it. As long as she stayed away from any holds it was safe to try. Alixya smiled at her idea, and continued south.
On the way she passed a small Thalmor Patrol, the leader wore black robes, gloves and boots with gold details. The two others appeared to be bodyguards – they were dressed in some fur armour. This group approached Alixya and made her feel uncomfortable – she wore only the blood stained tunic. They talked a bit about the Empire and their goals before asking if Alixya believed in Talos. The Thalmor believed Talos should not be worshipped, as he was not a god, only a warrior. Alixya was not a hundred percent sure who he was – she had overheard people talking about him, but not in great detail.
"I-I don't know... I guess it's up to you to believe in what you want." Replied Alixya in a confused, slightly worried tone. Should she have answered like that? Obviously not. Next thing she knew, the Thalmor had pulled out their weapons and begun attacking.
Alixya quickly drew her iron sword and blocked the first attack.
She swung the sword full force with all her strength into the first guard's shoulder and then swivelled around to deflect a blow from the second.
A third guard which Alixya hadn't noticed appeared with a small red flame in one hand and a ball of lightning in the other.
"Great – a mage." Alixya thought as she ran towards the woman.
A stream of fire licked at Alixya's right arm as she dodged the first attack.
She then rolled, narrowly missing a bolt of lightning and drawing her bow in the process.
Alixya fixed a bow into place and released it with a swift, fatal movement.
The mage screamed in pain and fell to the ground with an arrow dug deep into one eye.
The second guard attacked again without giving Alixya time to get her sword.
He swung as she rolled under his legs.
Quickly, Alixya put the bow around the guard's neck and pulled hard.
The string cut into his neck and the screams soon faded to a whimper then silence.
Alixya turned to face the head of the group, their face confused, scared and worried at the same time.
"Strip." Alixya demanded.
"I'm sorry?"
"Give me your clothes and I shall let you live."
The Thalmor in control of the group took off the robes and handed them to Alixya.
"Now run."
The Woman took off in the direction which Alixya had come.
After changing into the robes Alixya felt much better. They were light and offered some warmth – much better than the tunic. She searched the bodies for any loot – she had already found thirty septims hidden in the robes. From these bodies she managed to gather a steel sword, steel arrows, a further fifty septims, an enchanted ring and a large, gold necklace.
The necklace opened into two halves – a locket.
Inside were two pictures, one of a pretty Nord women with bright blue eyes and another of a small, handsome, well-built boy who appeared to be about nine.
This filled Alixya with guilt, but she soon forgot about this, something had just caught her attention.
"That sneaky little son of a..."
The Thalmor must've alerted the guards to what had happened. Obviously not explaining the whole story. Once they found her, the incident with the Thalmor wouldn't matter - they would recognise her as the Lycanthrope from Solitude.
"No time to think – got to just run..."
Alixya sprinted away from the sound of hooves on the path and barking dogs and towards a river. She could lose her scent here.
Alixya spun around just in time to see two guards on horses and two on foot – with dogs – become visible up the hill.
"Don't spot me, don't spot me..."
The dogs sniffed and saw Alixya – they began barking wildly and it didn't take the guards long to act.
Swearing under her breath, Alixya ran along the river bank, telling the wolf;
"Any time now would be great!"
However, it was still resting from last night's hunt and would not take over.
She growled in frustration and quickened her pace.
That was when she came to a cliff edge – the water dropped vertically and gathered in a lake at the bottom.
She looked behind; the guards on horses closing in quickly with the others lagging behind.
Upon seeing Alixya's face the guard to the right turned to the other and said,
"Isn't that the Werewolf? From Solitude last night?"
The guard looked closer before recognising her.
"Shit! You're right!"
The two guards forced the horses to run faster while drawing their bows - Alixya had no choice.
As two silver arrows whizzed past her head, Alixya jumped, hung in the air for a moment, and then dropped into the lake below.
I made the waterfall up by the way. I didn't really refer to the game very much in this chapter.
I NEED MORE REVIEWS!