By mtmckinley 1 Comments
Sorry about the long absence from part 1 of this story. I focused on some other games and finding a new job and didn't put time into Skyrim. But, I have a back-log of story to write, so I thought I'd try to continue where I left off! You can see Part 1 earlier in my blog. To catch you up, I'm playing Skyrim with about 160 mods installed and writing my story as I encounter them as if they were a normal part of the game. Most of the mods are graphical enhancements and such, but when it alters the Skyrim story, I'll try to link to the mods I'm using. We're catching up with our Orc friend on his way to a Companion quest. He's also attempting to find Sam, the drinking game guy, who got him in all kinds of trouble in Markarth.
I run a couple errands in Whiterun before heading out to meet Skjor out in the fields west of the city. We delve into a ruin and before too long, I accidentally trigger a trap that has me caged in a small alcove in the wall. Skjor grunts at my seeming incompetence, but almost immediately a group of ambushers catch Skjor off guard. I grunt back at him indignantly as I lean against the wall of the caged alcove to watch my companion friend get butchered by these strangers.
Skjor surprises me, though, as his body literally erupts into the shape of a wolf! A werewolf!
He tears through the ambushers, ripping them to shreds. As the last of them slump against the wall, he reverts back to human form and releases me from my cell. He explains that most of the inner circle of the Companions are werewolves and I shouldn't feel obligated to be one myself. On the contrary, I'm all for it! Anything to give me an edge if I ever have to take on a small army of guards or bandits! Ooh, or a dragon!
Soon after returning to Whiterun, I am brought to a secret meeting in the middle of the night. Sure enough, I'm offered the chance to become a werewolf myself. Without hesitation, I agree and drink the blood offered to me. It is warm and bitter, but I feel a strong power course through my veins.
I black out soon after and have the strangest dream where I'm running through the streets of Whiterun, surprising guards and citizens alike. As I rush through the city faster then I've ever run before, my vision darkens and I feel the cold against my bear skin as I awaken in the middle of the wilderness.
This werewolf thing isn't exactly panning out like I thought it would...
I glanced up and saw another Companion. She beckoned me over and I re-equipped my stuff. It would seem the werewolves' arch enemies the Silver Hand were the ones behind the earlier ambush and were holed up in a nearby fort. The two of us cleared the fort of enemies, including their leader known as "The Skinner" and she asked me to return to Companion HQ later. I nodded, but felt like I was having second-thoughts on this werewolf stuff.
I glanced at my map. Hmm, looks like Morvunskar isn't too far away. That's where Sam will supposedly be. I sighed... what started as an innocent drinking game with some scrawny human has sent me all over the land of Skyrim and back again. This seems to be the story of my life so far. But that runt did something to me... maybe he spiked my drink. In any case, I plan on beating some answers out of him once I find him.
Claws vs Magic
As I approached the semi-ruins of Morvunskar fortress, I noticed several magic-users walking around the upper ramparts. They were probably not going to just let me in, were they? I stretched my shoulders... time to unleash this new beast ability of mine and see how it goes...
I came to with a start, looking around franticly. I stood above the mangled body of a mage of some kind, her heart ripped from her chest. Blood dripped from my jaws and I suddenly felt very... full to my stomach. Ugh.... this werewolf thing.... I don't know about this.... I looked around the fort and everywhere I found bodies of ripped open mages, mangled beyond belief. The other werewolves in the Companions seem to be in more control then I am... maybe it comes with practice.
I shivered to myself, knowing full well where these poor bastards' hearts had gone and fought the urge to vomit. I re-equipped my armor and weapons and turned back toward the fort. Time to find Sam... assuming I've not already eaten the guy.
Sam I Am
Further into the fort, I had to kill a few more mages that my wolf form hadn't yet run across. I had to admit, I felt much better about crushing their skulls and running them through the back then the whole eating-their-hearts thing. I wasn't sure I'd be trying to evoke the wolf again any time soon. As another mage crumpled to the floor, a large sphere of energy erupted into view in the corner of the room. Having not found Sam amongst the dead or anywhere else in the fort, I assumed that maybe he was through this portal... actually that would explain how he managed to drag me across Tamriel all in the course of a single night. Figures that he must also be a mage, I suppose. Good, that will make him that much easier to squish...
I stepped through the portal and a white light enveloped me. I felt the familiar stomach-flip that I've begun to associate with portals and blinked a few times as I materialized on the other side... in some sort of wooded forest area.
I crept around slowly, sword drawn, looking for any sign of trouble. I heard the murmurs of conversation further down the path and smelled what seemed like cooking food in the near distance. Must be some sort of camp. I pushed aside the thick brush and emerged into a clearing. There, in the middle of the woods, was a long banquet tabled, lined with men eating a rich looking meal and downing bottles of rum. But that wasn't the main thing that stood out... that would be the Deadra that stood at the head of the table. I tensed as I prepared for a bloody fight, but was surprised with the Deadra started to laugh merrily, with a very human-sounding voice. It was SAM!
He laughed at the expression on my mask and lightly punched my arm in jest as he explained. He was Sanguine, the Deadric Prince of mirth, drunkeness, and, well, being annoying, it seemed. He bestowed upon me a flowery looking staff that I eyed with a bit of disdain... did he expect me to weild this thing into battle? He smirked as he flicked his fingers in my direction and my stomach did cartwheels as I found myself... back in the Whiterun Inn where I had met Sam to begin with. I fought the urge to retch in my mask and peered at the staff warily. I sighed as I slung it on my back and stepped up to the counter.
Time for a drink...