The Elder Scrolls: Hunter's Gift -- Part 2
#2 of TES:HG
The Elder Scrolls: Hunter's Gift Part 2 by Artemis Dragmire
Warnings and Copyright Info:
The following story is based on a character I roleplayed in Bethesda Softworks The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. As such, the setting belongs entirely to Bethesda Softworks, Inc., and all appropriate copyrights are entirely theirs. The characters belong to me, please do not re-use them for your own works without my permission. The icon artwork for FA is a modified screenshot taken by me in-game.
This story series contains sexual themes in explicit detail, so please do not read if such things offend you or if you are under the age of consent in your country. That said, Enjoy!
I awaken to Del's clicking foot-claws as he makes his way back into the cavern, any dreams I may have been having whisked away by the blinding flash of consciousness, never seen again. In my case, that is probably a good thing.
My eyes open and I see Del dressing in his garments once again. The crazy lizard will go out in a torrential rainstorm stark naked, but feels the need to sleep fully clothed. I wonder if it's a reptile thing, a need for extra warmth while asleep. Pondering this, I sit up from my bedroll, still a bit sticky between my thighs from the events a few hours earlier. Remembering this brings a flush to my face, and I hope again that Del's sense of smell doesn't pick up on my scent.
Del doesn't say anything though. His eyes meet mine and acknowledge me with a nod. I notice his eyes have gone back to their normal cherry red with their own special glow, not the eerie pink they had earlier. Tail dragging behind him, Del prepares his own bedroll silently, obviously tired and in need of rest. The poor Argonian deserves it, since that night in Kvatch, I don't think he's gotten more than a few hours of sleep at a time. I make a mental note to make sure to check us into a nice, comfortable inn once we reach Anvil, to repay him for his kindness.
A cool draft whisks in from outside, the darkness at the edge of the cavern showing that the remnants of daylight have followed the storm east and beyond the horizon, leaving us in the crisp night air. As I get up I decide to only put on my gloves and greaves, leaving the cuirass and heavier parts of my armor to rest on my bedroll. Things seem quiet, and I'd prefer to be able to move quickly to awaken Del if the need arises, rather than be hindered by my armor if something should threaten us.
I strap my claymore to my back, however, just in case, along with a dagger that I keep at my side. Both weapons feel cold in my hands. The unforgiving, deadly steel, hidden within leather provides a sense of safety that even my armor doesn't provide. This is something I can control, something I can predict. If I need to, I can use these tools to protect myself, and Del, from just about anyone or anything. Well, that's not entirely true. I have faced foes that I couldn't defeat with just steel, but I can count the number of those on one hand.
I move out into the cool air and settle down on the same rock where Del had sat a few hours earlier. It is a good spot, with a clear view of the clearing around the mouth of the cavern, as well as a decent vantage point back into the cave. My heart jumps a beat when I realize that I can clearly see my own bedroll from here, and I wonder if Del got as much of a show as I did a few hours ago. I cross my legs and feel myself blush, then push the thoughts from my mind, resolving to focus on making sure we don't get eaten by bears tonight.
The night passes quickly and uneventfully, the shrouded gray of dawn creeping through the trees and serving as a wake-up call for the world. Standing from my perch on the rock, I stretch out the kinks in my arms and neck, then move back toward the cavern entrance to gather the rest of my equipment and wake Del.
I yawn, not for any particular reason. I'm not tired, I have had more sleep in the past few days than I usually get, and feel quite well rested. I'm just bored. I look forward to our arrival in Anvil. I am suppose to contact the man that hired the Fighters Guild and get the details of my job and what it entails from him. From what I know, something of his was stolen the last time he was making a trip to the Imperial City, and he wants it back. Probably some valuable trinket or family heirloom, stolen by a local group of bandits or other bad sort. Nothing I can't handle.
A branch cracks behind me, a little to the left.
I stop at the cave entrance, and draw my claymore from its spot on my back. Something is out there. I turn to shout to Del. To my amazement, he stands ready behind me, already awake and alert. He steps up beside me, his tail brushing against my leg in reassurance. He heard it, he's ready.
A stomp, a snarl. Definitely something out there. Something big. A section of the brush to the right of the cavern and about twenty feet from the entrance starts shaking violently. Another growl.
My hair stands on end. I turn to Del, watching as he does something with an odd looking burst of energy between his claws. The energy swirls and changes color, distracting me. Del makes eye contact again, and reaches out with his hands, to touch me with the energy that seems to have decided to stay golden, for now. Before I can recoil, his clawtips make contact with my shoulders.
The strange magicks rush from his claws and into my clothing, soaking me with its golden glow. A shimmer appears before my eyes, obstructing my vision slightly. What in the name of Kyne has he done to me? I don't need this distraction right now!
Before I can focus more on the shimmering energies that now partially obscure my vision, another great roar fills my ears, and I turn to see a hulking form come crashing out of the underbrush. My vision fills with a view of a horrible beast. The creature has disgusting brown and green fur, which covers it from head to toe. It possesses very deadly looking claws the size of daggers on all four of its limbs; and it seems to walk upright, though its arms drag low enough I suspect it could run using those limbs as well. Three yellow eyes glare at Del and I, primal anger and hunger filling them as it prepares to charge.
I grip my claymore and move out of the cavern entrance, keeping my distance from the creature, Del circles to the other side, to flank the beast. One of the beast's eyes track Del's movements, the other two remain focused on me. It lets out another roar, huge fangs bared as it charges me.
My training sets in. Even though this creature probably outweighs me by two or threefold, its reckless charge gives me an opportunity. When it gets close, I can use its own momentum to cause it to impale itself on my claymore, or I can sweep at its legs, and probably take one of them off in the attempt. This shouldn't be so bad.
Charging with a roar, the beast moves toward us -- about ten feet away now, and closing fast. I step to my right, planning to pivot in that direction as the creature makes its attack, dodging and allowing it to meet my sword in the same motion.
I make a quick check to see where Del is. He's behind it, working up something I can actually understand between his clawtips: fire. Good. If my first blow doesn't finish it, his magick should help.
It's upon me, a claw reaches toward my left shoulder, trying to grab me. I pivot, my arms lift the claymore and put its edge level with the creature's hips. Might as well go for the legs. It's faster than I expected, its claw grazes my shoulder as I pivot, and I regret my earlier decision to not wear my upper armor as I feel it rake into my skin, pain shooting down my arm.
The angle of my blade falters, and, when the creature's momentum brings it past me, I feel a satisfying weight against my hands as the blade meets the creature's flesh. The angle is off, though. I have caught it in the waist, but it looks like a deep cut nonetheless. I push forward with the sword, running it through the remaining flesh as the creature roars. Its black-green blood runs onto my sword and drips onto the ground.
I spin as the creature goes by and pull my sword up to defend against any counter attack. The creature staggers for a second, then turns as well. I look at the wound I have given it, a deep gash along its right side, deep enough that the blood loss alone should slow it down. As I watch however, the wound churns and morphs in front of me, its flesh closing over it, regenerating!
This is not good. The only other creature I have ever fought that could regenerate from a wound like that was that damned wolf creature. And even though I won that fight, I sure as hell didn't come out unscathed.
Another flicker across my vision. Whatever spell Del has whipping around me, I think I'd prefer not to have the distraction. I blink my eyes, and give a quick shake of my head, trying to clear it. I need to focus.
Heat and blinding light flash past my vision, an orange line of molten flame striking the creature in its right shoulder. Set ablaze immediately, the creature roars again in pain. The fire burns into the creature's disgusting hide. Seems these things are quite flammable. I silently thank Del, and move to strike again, planning to go straight for the creature's head this time.
Another roar, this one to my left!
I turn in time to see another huge set of claws swinging toward my face. There's two of these damn things! Too fast, too close, no time to react. This is going to hurt. That's my last thought as I wince, preparing for the pain.
ZZZAAP!
I open my eyes at the strange sound. That shimmering obscuring my vision ever since Del put his magickal claws on me coalesces into a blinding light just inches from my face, forming a magickal shield. The second creature recoils from the magick, as if burned. Indeed, its claws blacken, the fur around them charred. Thank Ysmir for mages! I spin on my heel, bringing my claymore around with my momentum, aiming for the second creature's wrist. I connect! A satisfying squish and a crunch as I feel skin and bone crunch beneath my blade, the arm that would have crushed my skull comes flying off, landing at my feet. A shower of disgusting black-green blood covers my face. Seems Del's magic won't keep me clean... just save my life.
The second creature goes ablaze as Del strikes it with another spell. I back up from the two towering infernos of fur and flesh, listening for Del's clawtips and breathing behind me. The creatures seem preoccupied trying to put out the flames for the moment, so I make a quick scan of the area to make sure there isn't a third.
Seems like only these two, so with a glance to Del, I set myself for a charge. My booted feet churn at the dirt and rock below me, gaining speed as I rush toward the already injured beast, claymore held in front of me, tip forward.
The beast doesn't even move, and I feel the tip of my blade puncture its chest and I can feel ribs crack under the force of the blow. I twist my wrists, turning the blade sideways and then pull with all my might, ripping the sword from the beast out through its shoulder. It goes down.
The second creature seems to have accepted being on fire, and with a roar turns back toward me. The stench of burning fur and flesh fills my nostrils, and I struggle to ignore the churning it stirs in my stomach. I'm ready for its speed this time, and lift my claymore again to meet its charge. I breath in and hold it. The blazing torch of a creature comes closer and closer.
Slide, pivot, strike. The creature goes down with a roar behind me, tumbling helplessly as its left leg lays severed at my feet, blood soaking the earth around it.
I let out the air in my lungs and relax slightly. Del works pink magick between his claws again, probably checking to make sure no other beasts are around.
I do the same, circling the area and checking the perimeter, listening for any sign that more of these creatures are nearby. I see nothing.
I meet Del back at the struggling body of the second creature, who is surprisingly still alive, and still smoldering. Del's tail whips behind him, and his eyes are filled with concern. "Erin! You're hurt!"
I feel the pain now, again. And blood. The arm of my tunic clings to my hand as I investigate, dark and sticky with my blood. I can't see the wound in my shoulder, but my arm can still move, it must not be too bad. I hear Del ripping a piece of his tunic, and feel his warm, claw-tipped hands move across and under my arm, binding the wound with the makeshift bandage. "Del, I'm alright. I don't think I'm even bleeding anymore..." I protest, but allow him to continue, my cheeks flushing with the embarrassment of letting myself be injured.
Del finishes bandaging my arm, and I test its motion. It only hurts slightly when I raise it. Should heal quickly at least. This wound is nothing compared to what would have happened if that second beast had connected with its claw... Wait a minute!
"Del, what the hell happened back there? I should be dead, but something stopped that creature's strike. And don't give me any nonsense about it being the will of the gods, tell me what happened!" I shout, louder than I really mean, the adrenaline still running through me.
Del looks up to me, his glowing irises trailing a strand of the pink energy inside them as his head moves. "I'm just glad my protection spell worked!" He looks away, "When I saw that second beast, I couldn't do anything to save you. If my spell had failed, if I had messed it up..." His voice falters as he imagines the alternative. He takes a shuddering breath, whether the shudder comes from his own adrenaline or emotion I cannot say, "At least it worked. You're safe. The shielding spell shouldn't be relied upon though. I have seen mages rely on their protection, not even bothering to dodge a fatal blow, only to be missing their heads a moment later."
A growl interrupts Del's explanation. The wounded creature tries to crawl away, bleeding out. I ready my sword to put the thing out of its misery but Del puts a scaled hand on my shoulder to stop me. "Del, it's hurt -- it's not going to survive. Just let me end it; we shouldn't let it suffer."
Del just nods, but keeps his hand on my uninjured shoulder, as he reaches with his other hand for his ebony dagger. "I know, let me finish it." His voice carries something I've never heard before, a cool professionalism. I nod, assuming he just wants the satisfaction of finishing one of the beasts off himself.
Del draws the dagger from its sheath; and suddenly an overhwelming wave of nausea and dizziness hits me without warning. The damn thing seems to have an aura around it, not entirely substantial. I blink my eyes, trying to clear them, but I can still see a shimmering around the dagger Del now holds in his scaled hands. I stumble back, the dizziness and nausea almost causing me to black out. I couldn't have lost that much blood, could I?
Del's tail has ceased its movements, now steady and solemn behind him. He reaches into a belt pouch and draws out a strange crystal or gem. He kneels next to the creature, readying the dagger above it, before plunging it deep into the creature's back. I fall to my knees, retching and choking. A flash of light, the creature lets out a dying breath, and I see a strange light move from the dagger to the gem Del is holding over the creature's back. The gem pulses, then begins emitting an eerie glow that doesn't dissipate.
I retch again, and have to fight to keep bile down. Del finally sheathes the foul dagger and I immediately feel better. By Ysmir's beard, what evil curse is held within that blade? I am still too weak to stand, my knees having turned to jelly. Del turns around and his eyes go wide upon seeing me crouched as I am.
"Erin! Are you alright? What's wrong?" His voice shakes again, this time definitely with concern. He moves quickly over to me and kneels in front of me.
"That damned dagger, what in the name of Oblivion, Del?!" I gasp out, feeling slightly angry with the Argonian, he should have warned me, damnit! "Why do you carry something cursed so? And what the hell did you just do to that creature?"
Del's eyes grow distant, the ember glow within them almost dimming, then flickering back to life again as he meets my gaze. "I'm surprised you even noticed. Most non-mages aren't able to sense this sort of enchantment. This..." he moves his hand to the hilt of the dagger again, and I find myself filled with dread, fearing he will draw the damned thing again. "...Is enchanted with a spell that traps the energy contained in a creature's soul. It's drawn into that gem you saw me use. Mages can use those to..."
"Okay, I've heard enough!" I interrupt him, standing. "You can keep your soul dagger, just next time warn me before you use the cursed thing. And never, I mean NEVER draw that while we are fighting, I don't want to keel over like a sick puppy while I'm trying not to die." I shake my head, clearing it of the remaining clouds that had been left over from my experience. "I don't care what you use it for, just keep me out of it, okay?"
Del's tail droops to the ground, and he looks away. "Okay, I'm sorry. I will buy a sword in Anvil, so that I have something else to use if things get nasty. I'll warn you before I use the dagger again." He motions with his clawed hand as he starts walking away, "We should get going, these troll bodies may attract scavengers, and I'd prefer to avoid another fight." He turns away, his gaze distant, tail still and unmoving behind him.
Anvil, the city smells of saltwater and fish. The sun burns high in the air again, and it's hot, but not scorching and boiling like in Kvatch. A cool sea breeze wisps in from the docks, and manages to keep the temperature at a more bearable level.
I spend the first hour when we arrive in town arranging lodging at one of the nicer inns on the main street. Del wanders off immediately to buy a weapon, still looking downtrodden. Did I actually upset the Argonian? I should maybe apologize, I didn't mean to insult his craft or his skill, and he did save my life with that spell of his. That dagger, it just disturbed me for some reason. And Del's description didn't help matters. Stealing souls? What sane person would do that?
After arranging lodging, I take some time to check with the local guild chapter, and get details as to where I need to go for this contract. Seems a small group of goblins has taken residence in a cavern about an hour's walk north of town. Occasionally they have attacked and raided travelers that stray too far from the roads. A local man had a trinket stolen from him that was of personal sentimental value, and he is paying the guild five hundred septims to have it retrieved.
Good money, even taking out the fee I pay to the guild for finding the commission. I start paging through maps at the guild office and planning the route I will take to the cavern when I feel a sudden lurch deep inside my chest. It feels as if my heart wants to leap out of my body and scamper off to some sort of party. I hate this feeling, I have come to know it all too well.
Slightly overcome, I sit down, my skin tingling and my fists clenched. It's the call of the hunt. Damn it all, I haven't been paying attention! Tonight will be one of the nights I transform into that horrid beast. At least, I can still complete the contract. The goblins won't pose a threat, and they should satisfy my instincts for the night, which will keep me from hurting any innocents, I hope.
I feel a hand settle on my shoulder. Instead of the familiar red scales of my friend, a dark-skinned, human, hand greets my gaze. I look up into the green eyes of a young Redguard, his white smile a strange contrast against his dark skin.
"Feeling okay there? You looked a little shaky for a second." The man, no, boy, he couldn't be much older than eighteen, asks.
I look up, brushing his hand from my shoulder. Every contact with this boy sends electric jolts through my body, every nerve amplified by the magicks coursing through me, awaiting the moons. "I'm fine, please leave me be."
He grins again, and rests his hand idly on the hilt of his sword. A bright silver pommel adorns the end of the hilt. "Well, if you ever need anything, anything at all, come see me. My name is Branton, and I'll be in town for a few days. Maybe we could get a drink together later?"
This boy is starting to irritate me. I don't know what about him makes me want to run out of the room. Maybe it's just my current state of mind and body, but something about him makes me feel uneasy. "I doubt it. Listen: I'm really quite busy. Maybe you should go over to one of the taverns a little early, you might find more receptive company there." I stand up, and push past him, no longer able to tolerate sharing the same room.
As I pass, my wrist brushes the pommel of his sword, and I feel a sudden burning sensation. I must have sunburned myself worse than I thought in Kvatch. The boy, luckily, does not follow me back out of the Fighters Guild building. I walk up the street a ways to the inn where we are staying, and go up to my room. Del has the room next door to mine, but his door remains closed and I don't hear anything from inside. I consider knocking and seeing if he's in, but I suspect he's still out in the town picking out his new cutlery.
The orange light shining in through the window of the room reminds me that time grows short. I should be out of town before the sun sets. I really wish I could talk to Del before I had to leave tonight; but the trickles of daylight fading in through the window remind me that time grows short.
I sigh, and begin to prepare myself for the night. I won't need my armor, so I leave that in the room, locked in the chest at the foot of the bed. I leave my claymore as well, but it won't fit in the chest so I leave it propped against the wall. I change into some other clothes from my bag, and change the bandage on my shoulder. This last part is a little difficult without the help of another, but I manage. Once I'm sure my arm isn't going to fall off or something, I collect myself and set out into the evening. Every second makes my skin tingle and I can feel the increasing call of the beast within, ready to spring forth as soon as the pale light from the moons meets my eyes.
Wind whips at my body as I exit the cavern, the mealy taste of goblin still in my muzzle. I look down at my paws, their gray fur stained with the hideous green blood of goblins. I clutch within one of them a small stone figurine. A toy made for children. The item that I need to bring back to the merchant, back in Anvil. The reason these goblins suffered the unlucky fortune to face me tonight, of all nights.
The moons overhead pull at my senses, even though I am not looking toward them, their call still tugs at my very soul. Their pull has weakened since I first stepped into the dark confines of the goblin cave... tempered by the successful hunt and the smell of fresh blood.
I shake my head to clear it. My ears swivel at any night sound, a cricket, to the left, about twenty feet. Swivel right, listen, a deer, or some other medium animal, fleeing, now about thirty yards away.
I should wash the statuette. The goblins' filthy smell covers it, inundating my nostrils with their stench.
I sniff the air, nothing nearby. I can catch the scents of a hundred different animals and other creatures, but all remaining at a distance. A wise choice.
Walking down to the shoreline takes about an hour's worth of time, if you are human. I am not, at least, not tonight. I put the figurine in my muzzle, and drop to all fours like a feral beast. This is faster, more efficient.
I run. Hard. My muscles scream in exuberance at the release of tension. I cross the distance in under a half hour. The ocean waves lap at the rocky shoreline. The salty sea mist fills my nostrils, obscuring my sense of smell somewhat.
Bending down, and dropping the figurine from my muzzle and onto the rocks below, I let the lapping tides flow over my paws, cleansing them of proof of the night's activities. I dip the figurine into the lapping waves next. I run over the edges of the sculpted dragon with my paws, careful not to damage its wings or tail, which would be the easiest parts to break.
Satisfied that both myself and my dragon friend are clean, I start walking back to the spot where I hid my clothing before my transformation. It is a good thing I have learned a little bit of control. The first time this happened my clothes were torn to shreds, and I had to slip back into town as naked as the day I was born. The guards at the gate gave me odd looks, but luckily were too tired to do anything about the strange naked Nord woman who was trying her best to remain invisible.
Since then, I have learned that if the night is cloudy, my transformation will be delayed until near midnight, when the moons are at their apex. If no clouds obscure Masser and Secunda, it will come the moment I gaze upon the exposed full moons, or at midnight, whichever comes sooner.
One day, perhaps, I can learn complete control, and not have to indulge these gruesome urges every time the moons cycle. Sadly, literature on the subject of lycanthropy is lacking, or restricted to mages of high standing. Most of the books seem written by people who have no firsthand knowledge of the curse, and are merely guessing. The rest, all propaganda, written by the various cults and churches. Some even claim that lycanthropy does not exist.
Once back at the small pile of rocks that mark where I stashed my clothes, I allow myself to relax as much as possible. The wild still calls to me, but I am stronger than the call. I must resist. I have sated the hunting instinct for tonight, with no man or mer harmed in the process. This was about as good as one of these cursed nights can go.
My instincts take hold of that positive thought and draw it forth, amplify it. Everything is amplified when I am like this. If I get mad, I go into a frenzy; ripping, shredding, tearing and clawing. When happy, as I am now, I can feel my tail begin to wag, and I have a sudden desire to go running just for the sake of running. Instead, I look skyward, and spot the moons.
Red and foreboding, Masser looms large and full above me, slightly obscuring its smaller cousin, Secunda. Their light washes over me, and I feel tears welling up in my eyes from the insane emotional cocktail running through me at this moment. My chest fills with something, another urge; everything is urges when I'm like this. I let it out, up through my throat, into my muzzle, tilting skyward now. My muzzle opens; the energy escapes from my body in a howl that makes my own fur stand on end. My tail puffs out, my ears lie back. The sound carries long after I have stopped, for what feels like hours later.
The echoes of the outburst fade away slowly; my sensitive ears picking them up from miles away as they bounce off of rocks and trees and the walls of Anvil itself. I sit myself on a nearby boulder and await the coming dawn, claws scratching at the rock in fitful anticipation.
I miss Del.
Editing by: Tempo321 and Alvey021
So that wraps up part two! Sorry, no smut this time. I promise there'll be some in the next chapter!
Also apologize for taking so long on this one. Kept getting distracted, and had school start this week. In any case, no excuses, I was slow on this one. Will try my best to get the next part up faster!
Please, let me know what you think in comments and/or notes. I appreciate all critique and feedback. I'm still learning to write, so please point out anything that doesn't make sense or might be a mistake!