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More than He Bargained For Pt. 1

Dressed in black leather armor, Duncan's large body was flattened against the ground amongst a small clump of bushes as he stared up at the tall gray keep. The ground was cold and hard as a bitter wind blew out of the north. He felt a telltale twinge in his left paw that usually meant it would start snowing soon but he remained motionless, eyes trained on the castle walls. As he watched, a solitary guard moved in a stiff clunky gait across the walkway atop the wall. A rock began to dig into his flank and time seemed to pass very slowly as tan and brown stallion thought back on how he had ended up here.

It had all started with a drunken brawl nearly a week ago at a tavern in Windhelm. He had soundly beaten a three other furs in a dispute over a rather attractive mare. Unfortunately for Duncan, one of them had been the Jarel's son and the next morning when Duncan left the mare's bed to relieve himself outside, a group ten town guardsmen jumped him.

A bruised and beaten Duncan was dragged all the way to the city jail and thrown in a cell where he promptly passed out. There he sat for a day or two with only the sound of rats in the wall to entertain him until one night he received a surprise visitor. The moon was high in the sky when Duncan's sharp ears twitched as he heard the scrape of the heavy cell block door on the rough stone floor. It was way too late for anyone other than the overweight jailer to be moving about and the jailer's snores indicated that he was still fast asleep. Three pairs of footsteps drew closer as Duncan mind rolled over what this night time visit could mean.

He was quite shocked when the Jarel himself, flanked by two of his guards, glided up to his cell door. The Jarel was an older fox with more than a bit of gray around his temples and a set of richly tailored clothes in red with gold trim. He stared at Duncan for a moment before gripping one of the bars.

"Well if it isn't the man who thrashed my poor son and his two favorite drinking buddies," said the Jarel with a grimace.

"Duncan Fiercestride at your service," said the horse as he stood up moving from his cot. The Jarel's hand moved to his chin and he continued to examine Duncan. Even matted with dirt and grime Duncan was still an impressive sight. Standing at nearly seven feet he towered nearly a foot over the smaller Jarel. The guards shifted nervously as Duncan crossed his arms making every muscle in his upper body jump and twitch. He had neglected to wear his shirt that morning when he walked outside the mares room and only the kilt he had been wearing remained.

"That's what the guards told me, yet I did not believe them. If the rumors tell true the great Duncan Fiercestride should be able to crush a troll's skull with only one hand, yet here you are, brought in by my guards no less."

"You men merely caught me unaware," grumbled Duncan as he looked away.

"And apparently with your pants down as well, but on to business," said the Jarel with a smile. You still sell your sword, do you not?"

"When I have one," said Duncan.

"And the rumors about your skill in completing contracts?"

"I'm best in all of Skyrim," said Duncan as one of the guards began to chuckle. Duncan's icy blue glare shifted to the chuckling guard as he sized him up. It took a minute before he remembered where he was seen the dog before but then he grinned.

"How's that jaw of yours doing mutt? Still sore?." The dog shut up as he tried to move closer to the cell but a hand from the Jarel stopped him.

"Yes we need to talk about that Fiercestride," said the Jarel as he turned back to the horse. "You maimed nearly half a dozen guards and threw my own son through a window. My healers are just now getting all my men patched up. This costs money horse, money you now own the city of Windhelm. And when we collected your things from your, ah, acquaintance we found very little of value besides a rather interesting sword which alone will not cover your debt to me. You do me no good here in my jail eating me out of house and home so I have a proposition for you."

"I'm listening," said Duncan.

"It would not do for one as yourself to go on rotting in my jail. I do not wish for the city to gain a bad representation amongst your fellow sell swords. We need them, and more importantly we need their coin to continue to flow into Windhelm. However I can't just look past your debt to the city so I plan to hire you."

"Hire me?" said Duncan with a look of disbelief. "Yes, I happen to know of a wizard in the far north that has developed a elixir that restores youth and vigor. You collect some of this elixir for me and I will forgive all your debts as well as the harm you inflicted on my own son," said the Jarel with a sly smile. Duncan's frown returned as he stared back at the Jarel.

"Stealing from wizards isn't generally good for one's health."

"You would of course be paid a substantial fee for your efforts if you returned with the elixir in addition to the dissolution of your debts," said the Jarel as his face hardened.

"This all sounds a little too good to be true fox," said Duncan as he stared down at the Jarel. "What's the catch?"

"The catch is what I want is guarded by a very powerful wizard, in a fortress filled with her own men and they will not part with it willingly. But if you bring it to me I will make you much richer than you will ever become guarding caravans and fighting duels," said the Jarel with a smirk.

"And what stops me from just leaving after you have sent me on my way?" asked the horse with a snort.

"It's simple, you have three days. After that I post a bounty on your head. If you run you will be dragged back here to die. If you fail to gain the elixir the castle's keeper will no doubt do the very same to you. Either way I am rid of you horse. But if you do succeed then I get what I want and you get a large sum of gold, everybody wins."

Duncan was by no means a scholarly horse, but even he knew that what the Jarel offered was as good a deal as he was likely to get so he agreed. The Jarel returned his things and sent him on his way with a few supplies and directions. And that was how Duncan found himself laying in a field, moon high above, while the first snowflakes of what was surely an oncoming storm tickled his mane. He snorted when another large flake landed on his nose as the guard walked back across the span of wall that faced Duncan. As soon as he was out of sight Duncan sprang to his feet and sprinted straight at the wall. As he drew closer to the wall he began swinging a grappling hook attached to a thin length of braided cord and let the hook fly as he stopped just short of the wall.

The sharp hook caught fast on a joint between two stones as Duncan jerked on the cord as hard as he could. The Horse gave a silent prayer hoping the rope held as he began hauling himself up hand over hand. Cords and tendons bunched in his thick arms as Duncan moved quickly up the rope till his head was even with the top of the wall. His scramble over the edge was a little less quiet than he would have liked but as he sat there he heard no rapid staccato of footsteps headed in his direction.

Duncan chanced a peek over the wall into the court yard and saw that there was a small guardhouse near the main gate while the main keep was further back. The wall curved around in an oval shape with one part of the wall passing closer to the keep. He estimated that the wall was even with about the third floor. Rising proudly out of the middle of the keep was the structure that gave this small castle its name. It was a large spire almost snow white in color that rose to a dizzying height above the castle. This was the Frostspire and could be seen from miles around. It also proved its occupant a stunning unobstructed view of the surrounding territory.

The Jarel had informed him that the elixir he was looking for was in the highest room of the Frostspire, and very close to the wizard.

"Why in the nine hells the hells does it have to be all the way up there," thought Duncan as he stared at the impressive structure. "Whoever lives there must get real sick of all those steps," mused the horse as he attached the grapple hook to the other side of the wall and shimmied down into the courtyard. He left the rope and hook where it was and began slowly moving toward the keep as more snowflakes began to fall.

He was almost across the courtyard when he heard the scrape of feet on cobblestones. Duncan dived behind a large decorative topiary and squeezed himself into as small a shape as possible. When the guard walked past Duncan was a little bit surprised to see that it was a wooden golem. Almost his own height, it resembled a very large puppet with steel plate on its chest, upper arms, and legs. For a face, it had a flat metal plate with two small gemstones set where the eyes should be. It's walk was a little choppy, and its movements jerky, but for the most part it moved just like a man with all the proper joints. The golem carried a sword on its left hip and a small cross bow was integrated into his left forearm.

"Clever," thought Duncan as the guard walked by. "Just keep the termites away and you've got as many guards as you need."

When golem guard moved out of sight, Duncan again began moving toward the keep. He passed through a small garden and knew the kitchen must be nearby. He felt along the wall till his hands encountered a narrow wooden door set back into the stonework. Careful not to make a sound, Duncan lifted the latch and the door began to swing inward. He found himself in a large kitchen with the lingering smells of half a dozen foods wafting through the air. The glow from the smoldering cooking fire gave him some light as he picked his way through the kitchen. Just outside was a small stair that was clearly intended to be the servants' entrance to the upper floors.

With a metallic rasp Duncan slowly drew his sword Singlestroke as he moved up the winding staircase. There would be few places to hide from here on out and he might need a hostage to facilitate his departure from the Keep. When the staircase stopped Duncan estimated that he was about three stories up and the only thing left was to find the spire. He started moving to what he thought was the center of the building, padding silently past a number of doors till he reached a snow white pair of doors that almost seemed to glow in the dim moonlight. He pulled on the ornate brass handle and the heavy door opened smoothly revealing another rather steep staircase.

Duncan began his trek upward, sword still drawn as the stairs wound round and round and by the time he reached the top, his calves burned and he was sweating lightly. Another white door greeted him barring his way with just small sliver of light coming from underneath and a pinprick coming through the keyhole.

Duncan gently placed Singlestroke on the ground so as not to make any sound as he bent down eye level with the keyhole and peered though. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the brightness but when they finally did he noted a large fireplace directly across the room. There was a large four post bed to the left and a large table on the right.

"The damn wizard would keep her valuables in her bedroom," thought Duncan as he continued to peer through the keyhole. As if on cue a shapely figure glided into his view of view. Duncan watched as the figure moved toward the bed sliding out of a rather slinky robe to reveal the most stunning body he had ever laid eyes on.

She was tigress but instead of orange fur with black stripes, her fur was as white as fresh mountain powder. Stripes as black and vivid as the void stretched over every inch of body making her look all the more striking. Duncan tended to like his women with a bit more curve to them and this cat had it. Full and perfectly rounded breasts stood proudly atop her chest and Duncan was surprised shocked to see that she had a thick silver stud through each of her dark nipples.

Eyes glued to her body, Duncan watched as she turned to face the fireplace putting her hands on the top of the mantel. She spread her legs a bit and leaned closer to the fire giving a soft purr exposing her taught backside to Duncan's hungry gaze. She had long thick legs and an ass to make grown men cry and weep while her tail curled delicately around one ankle.

Duncan's cock began to peek out of his sheath, making his pants uncomfortably tight as he moved back from the keyhole and swore silently. He was acting like some kind of randy colt. He was better than this. Experienced mercenaries did not freeze up and lose all nerve at the sight of a gorgeous naked tigress. Duncan reached for Singlestroke and the familiarly of its wire wrapped hilt claimed him. This he had not expected. Most of the mages he had encountered in his travels had all fit the same mold. Skinny, greasy, asthmatics with all kinds of complexes and bad attitudes. That or shriveled and dried up old prunes. Most looked they had never seen the sun and when they weren't casting some spell too complicated for normal people to understand they were mostly useless. They were never wet dream inducing hard bodies like the one in the next room. He went back to the keyhole and continued to watch as the tigress moved back from the fire place and made a motion with her hands. The fire seemed it dim and diminished as she crawled into her rather plush looking bed and pulled the sheets over her body.

Duncan waited for a spell as he watched the rise and fall of her chest. After a while her breathing slowed and Duncan saw that she was truly asleep. He waited just a little while longer to be safe and tried the door. It was unlocked and Duncan began to make his journey across the room with agonizing slowness. When he finally reached her bed side he was almost trembling. He looked down and tigress and her gentle face didn't help. She seemed to be even prettier up close.

In a blur of movement Duncan tore the covers off the tigress and wrapped his thick arm around her neck. She let out a fearful whimper as he jerked her upright and out of the bed. Now standing directly behind her he whispered in her harshly in her ear. "Where is the elixir?" Her eyes looked monetarily confused, but with a trembling hand she pointed towards the table across the room. There on table was a gleaming crystal vial. A vial that had not been their only seconds ago. A cold stab of dread tore through the horse. Why had he not seen it earlier? As his eye narrowed his noise noted something else. The buxom tigress in his arms should have smelled of perfume and fear. Instead she didn't smell at all.

Something clicked in his head as he threw the tigress forward only to watch in terror as her body seemed to evaporate before his very eyes. The fire roared back to life filling the room with light as Duncan lifted Singlestroke and roared. Six golems materialized out of nothing along the edges of the room holding wicked looking pikes, each one pointing straight at him. Suddenly there was clapping as the tigress appeared in one of the chairs by table. She wore the robe he has seen her shadow take off earlier and had a rather amused look on her face as she watched the horse. She finished clapping and in a very sultry voice said, "When did you figure it out?"

Duncan stared at her sword still drawn as he franticly tried to think of a way out. When nothing came he settled for just keeping her talking.

"Your projection in the bed, it had no smell. Also when I pulled it out of the bed it didn't feel like a woman should."

"Well you didn't give me much time to work with. It wasn't till you set foot on the stair of my tower that I even knew you were here which I think is quite an accomplishment. No one else has ever made it that far."

"I guess I'm just lucky," said Duncan as the tip of Singlestroke dropped a few inches as Duncan let his body relax.

"You seem more reasonable that most I catch. Many beg and plead to let me go or just lose themselves completely and try to make it past my guards."

"Interesting idea, guard golems," said Duncan, "and you can always throw one on the fire if you get cold."

Duncan's remark seemed to amuse the mage and soon she was practically rolling in her chair. She wiped a tear from her eye.

"You have no idea how right you are. I once asked one to bring me some fire wood and he threw one of his legs into the fire. But that's a story for another day. They are quite loyal though, every one willing to jump in front of an arrow for me. And you Mr. Mercenary, were you willing to do that for any of your clients?" Duncan seemed to think for a minute as he brought his sword back to rest on his shoulder.

"A few of the better looking ones yes, but only a few. But I have a better idea for you." said Duncan with the most cheerful smile he could manage.

"What's that Mr. Studly swordsman?" asked the tigress with an amused look.

"Let's test those guards of yours," said Duncan. Then with no warning Duncan threw Singlestroke.

It moved like a silver bolt of lightning across the room and as Duncan expected every single guard in the dived forward trying to throw their bodies in front of the missile. None of them would make it. He was confident the move would at least injure the sorceress and distract the guards enough for him to hoof it back down the stairs and try for an escape. However when the sword was just a hairsbreadth away from her it stopped as the air around her shimmered. Duncan's eyes widened as moved for the door crashing past a wooden guard. His paw was on the door when invisible iron bands gripped him holding him fast. He felt something slowly turn his body till he was facing her again as he strained trying to move.

The blade spun in the air as the hilt landed in her hand, while her guards all scrambled to their feet and picking up their pikes. She slowly ran her left up the spine of the blade for a moment before turning back to the horse with an evil grin and a mysterious twinkle in her eye.

"You're smarter than you look horse but I am afraid it's my turn." The mage snapped her fingers as Duncan felt a sharp pinch at the back of his neck. His knees crumpled as his vision grayed and started to go black as his whole body crashed to the floor. The sorceress calmly walked over to the prostrate horse, flicking his ear with the tip of the sword. She bent down and raised his head up with her hand as she looked straight into his eyes while he fought to stay conscious.

"I think I've found myself a new toy in you, horse," she said as the last of the light left Duncan's eyes.