It was the least of Soran's problems, but it seemed to take up the majority of his time of late.
"We are not professional werewolf hunters, whatever you may have heard," Soran said to the village elder, the latest in a string of residents of Skyrim who sought out Soran, or another member of his company, to request that they dispatch a werewolf or other were beast that was threatening the safety of their village and it's residents.
"Do you say you will not help us?" asked the man, who still held out the coin filled purse that he had offered as payment for the requested service. Soran thought that the man's arm must be growing tired, and so tried to move the conversation along quickly.
"No, that is not what I am saying," replied Soran as Sharn rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly, "I am attempting, and apparently failing, to explain that we do not dispatch werewolves merely for payment. We will certainly deal with this werewolf that threatens your village, and if you wish to pay us afterwards for our efforts we will not insult you by refusing. But we do it because their continued existence displeases the Gods, and ultimately threatens us all. Our work is it's own reward."
"They seem to grow more dimwitted by the day," Sharn said afterwards as they walked from the stable towards the blacksmith, the recently proffered purse resting in her satchel. She did not quite tower over Soran, and she was not so broad as her cousin Urul; by Orsimer standards she was almost slender. But she was still half a head taller than Soran was, and her shoulders were just as wide as his.
"You would think that word would have traveled well enough by now that they would save their coin," Soran answered, "why pay for a service that we offer freely?"
"Perhaps their pride will not allow them to accept our help for free," she suggested.
"In that case, we are fortunate that my pride does not at all interfere with my accepting their coin," Soran said as he looked up at her and smiled.
Her own smile and deep laugh followed in quick order.
They had been kept quite busy for several months with requests of this nature once word had spread that they provided such a service. But for the turning of the seasons, it would have been difficult to tell one day from another. And while many of the requests proved to be genuine, some were merely common wolves, or saber cats, with the occasional troll mixed in for variety. But some were just as serious as werewolves, and in some instances more serious still.
"He seemed certain it was a werewolf," Soran said, "two months ago I would not have been comforted by that fact."
"Two months ago we had not added vampires to our list of creatures that required killing," replied Sharn.
They had Krev to thank for their newly acquired reputation as professional werewolf hunters, if thank was the proper word to use. Krev seemed determined to find new or novel ways to make Soran's position as Harbinger of the Silver Hand, and his life in general, difficult. His latest efforts came in the form of a drunken, rambling, conversation he had had with a stranger in the Windpeak Inn in Dawnstar, though Krev had omitted specific details regarding the Companions Inner Circle. Soran received the first request for assistance immediately afterwards, and similar requests continued to arrive since that day.
They had become vampire hunters in the same manner that they had become werewolf hunters: out of necessity, though somewhat accidentally. Naar's contacts in Whiterun had quickly identified the Companion and Inner Circle member Farkas as one of the pair of Companions that had assaulted Dustman's Cairn, slain all the Silver Hand present there, and taken the fragment of Wuuthrad. It took them a bit longer, aided by a different drunken conversation in a different Inn involving one of the Companions who drank more than was good for any man, to identify the other half of that deadly pair.
"That one's name is Aric," Naar had said, "Aric, Thane of Whiterun, was an initiate only when he entered Dustman's Cairn. Thane Aric was inducted fully into the Companions upon his returning with the fragment."
"He was only an initiate when he entered the Cairn," Soran repeated, his amazement at that fact clear from the tone of his words. That the Companions would send only two of their number, and one of them still only an initiate, to retrieve a fragment of Wuuthrad spoke of either their desperation, or of the strength of their recently initiated member.
"Yes," Naar said, "he was not a member of the Circle. He still is not. But he is friendly with the brothers Vilkas and Farkas. Two of his daughters are much attached to those twins."
"Two of his daughters?" Soran asked.
"Thane Aric has a large family. He adopts sons and daughters from across Skyrim. Thane Aric's daughters Lucia and Runa are often seen keeping company with the twins."
"What manner of man is Thane Aric of Whiterun?" Hellina asked, "is he Nord or Imperial?"
"Naar does not know. Torvar's speech was so badly slurred by then that Naar could not make out Thane Aric's full name, which is somewhat long."
"He is Thane of Whiterun, and has a house, and a family, there." Hellina had said, "he is an odd sort of Companion."
"There is more," Naar had said, "he is sworn brother to Jarl Balgruuf The Greater. They are very close. Thane Aric is Godfather to Balgruff's children."
"Gods," Hellina said.
Soran shook his head as his thoughts ran along too many paths to track simultaneously.
"This is too tangled to deal with at the moment," he had said, raising one hand in a vain attempt to keep the issue at bay, "we will keep track of Thane Aric of Whiterun for now, until we know more. We have more pressing matters to deal with."
Half a year had passed since Dustman's Cairn, and they certainly knew more now, but some of that knowledge had almost proved costly, and it was not knowledge that moved them closer to their goal of recovering the remaining fragments of Wuuthrad and reforging the weapon of Ysgramor.
It had been Sharn and Gwenyfe that had been given the task of regularly monitoring the activity of the newly minted Companion, and the way they spoke of him or, more specifically, his beauty, led Soran to believe that they very much enjoyed the assignment and would fight tooth and nail to avoid giving it up. But this Companion had other affiliations, and it was one such affiliation that caused the pair to ask for reinforcements to accompany them as they followed Thane Aric, two women, one of whom, judging by her age and the way he treated her, could only be one of his daughters, and a group of men and women in matching, though uncommon, armor.
So it was that the pair of Silver Hand, assisted by Soran, Manis and Urul, followed the unusual group from a safe distance towards Bloodlet Throne only to find themselves embroiled in a desperate fight for survival against a host of vampires.
No one in Soran's company had ever fought vampires before. Thane Aric's party obviously had prior experience, and Soran and his comrades had only a brief view of their tactics as they were set upon by the first group of vampires before a second group attacked the Silver Hand.
It was an ordeal that none of them would ever forget. They had quickly formed a circle, facing outwards, as they emulated Thane Aric and his group. After that it was a collection of noises, and voices, as each of them fought for their lives against enemies that could move as clouds of mist or smoke before attacking in physical form almost in the blink of an eye. But a silver sword and pauldrons, and the silver thread embedded elsewhere in their studded or bezainted armor, seemed just as effective against vampires as it was against werewolves. None of the Silver Hand were killed or bitten, though all had wounds that required tending. Thane Aric, his daughter, and most of the uninjured members of the other group quickly proceeded inside Bloodlet Throne while the remainder of their force remained outside. One of their number had been killed, and another had been bitten, and was beside herself with grief.
The two groups observed each other from a distance in the relative silence that followed, a silence broken only by the sobbing of the injured woman, and the consolations of her comrades.
"You should kill her immediately," Urul said with his usual bluntness as he approached a member of that group, his great sword still slick with the blood of the vampires he had killed, blood that also coated the silver embedded gauntlet that had not yet released its grip on that sword, "best to end her suffering quickly."
"We need no one's counsel on what should be done," the man replied to the Orc who stood head and shoulders over him as he placed his body in between Urul and the injured woman, his own bloody weapon still gripped in his equally bloody right hand, "we are The Dawnguard. Bites of this nature are an occupational hazard."
"We will take her to Morthal immediately," another member said to Urul before his gaze turned to the woman and he smiled at her in reassurance, "Falion will cure her. She has nothing to fear."
"We will leave you to tend your injured and mourn your dead," Soran had said, "we must tend our own wounded, and be on our way."
None of the Dawnguard thought to ask any of the Silver Hand how they came to be so close by when the attack occurred. This was fortunate, since Soran had not the least idea what excuse he would provide.
They were a silent party as they retraced their steps, each of them no doubt replaying recent events in their own minds. None of them wished to wait until the Thane reappeared from inside Bloodlet Throne, and even a brief glimpse of him in battle convinced them all that Thane Aric needed no ones assistance as he cleansed the inside of Bloodlet Throne of any remaining night walkers. All of their thoughts were likely traveling in the same direction as they remembered the brief glimpses of the newest addition to the Companions as he fought for his life just as they had. Once that man had entered Dustman's Cairn, the fate of any Silver Hand there that had drawn weapons against him was sealed. His brothers and sisters who were there that day had no way of knowing that, and it would have made little difference in any case if they had; they would never willing give up a fragment of Wuuthrad.
"It is the first time that I can recall that any Companion and Silver Hand fought together as allies," Soran said a few days after that battle with the vampires. It was apropos of nothing, Soran was merely giving voice to his thoughts, but for Hellina the comment required no explanation.
"From you description of him he sounds like a warrior from the old Epics," she said as she snuggled her head closer into Soran's shoulder as her left hand and arm pulled him tighter to her, "the more we learn of him, the more odd it seems that he would join the Companions, or that they would even have him. it is not their practice to accept married members. And it is well known that Kodlak dislikes magic of any kind."
"He joined the Dawnguard as well," Soran replied as the fingers of his right hand softly traced the path up Hellina's left hand and arm, "and who knows what else. I envy his ability to burn an opponent to a crisp at a safe distance. It was quite effective."
"I wish I had been there to see for myself," she said.
"I am glad you did not," Soran said with a smile as he turned his head and looked at the beautiful face beside him, "he is far too good looking."
Her smile answered his.
"Looks aren't everything," she said as her lips closed the distance to his own.
"Fortunately for me," he answered as his own lips reduced that distance to nothing.