Howling at the Moon I

"Ah, there you are." Skjor says.

"I heard you were looking for me." I say as he stands up.

"Yes. I have something a little different planned this time. But it's not for everyone to hear. Follow me to the Underforge." Skjor says, leading me to a rocky outcropping.

Going inside, we discover a stone fountain with Aela in her werewolf form.

"This is Aela. Your forbear… What we are about to do… It is best you not tell the Harbinger. He doesn't understand the importance of sharing our gift, our strength with our perspective pack." Skjor explains as he draws a knife, "If you are ready, we can begin."

"I understand and I am ready to accept this gift." I say in anticipation as my heart starts pounding.

"Good." Skjor says as he pulls out a dagger and slashes Aela's wrist allowing her blood to flow into the stone fountain as he then motions, "Then drink."

I listen to his order, going forward, one step after another…

*Badump*

*Badump*

*Badump*

I feel my heart pounding as I stick my hands and draw the crimson substance to my lips...

As I feel it going down my throat, it begins to warm… Getting hotter and hotter before it feels like I've drunk a gallon of molten lead. Leaving me wretching on the floor. But no matter how much I heave nothing comes out and I start to feel the heat spreading throughout my entire body.

Pounding my fist against the ground, I hear a deep scratching sound and the voice of Skjor as if we are separated by a rushing river.

"… going on? The… never this violent?!" Skjor exclaims in shock, his voice broken and distorted as my transformation continues.

I feel my bones snap and reset in seconds, only stronger than before and a deep tearing as I feel my face morph into an elongated snout as my tusks grow to almost three times their length with a top row of canines descending to almost match them in length and my vision changes as the darkness becomes clear and my once violet eyes take on a golden predatory hue.

As my transition nears completion I feel my muscles expand and solidify. If I had compared them to hardened steel when I first arrived in this world, I'd liken them more towards orichalcum. Dense and packed with a primal ferocity. And a thick layer of muddy forest green fur begins to sprout covering my body, as a pale white mane grows around my neck.

I rear up on my hind legs, causing me to tower over not only Skjor, but Aela who is still in her werewolf form as well. I feel my muzzle scraping against the roof of the cavern, making me at the very least nearly 10 ft tall, nearly eye level with a giant. A deep rumble begins to tear up from my stomach through my throat as a thunderous howl shatters the silence of the night.

*AAAAARRRWWWHHHOOOOO!!!*

Which cowes the two into submission long enough for me to dart out of the cave and emerge into the town.

The world is almost completely devoid of color, except for the flames crackling away in the braziers and the forms of the townspeople running away in terror driving my inner beast into a frenzy. It's similar to the battle lust I'd feel before a big fight but infinitely stronger. As if everything was an enemy, a prey to be hunted and devoured.

A dozen or so guards surround me as I prowl atop the gates surrounding the elder gleam tree.

"Halt!... Foul... Oblivion!" One of the guards tries to say, but most of his words are drowned out by the raging river coursing through my head.

"Roar!" I bellow before lunging from my perch and shredding through his armor with my claws as if it were butter giving me access to their still faintly beating heart which I begin to devour with gusto as the remaining guards watch on in terror before one accidentally lets loose an arrow disrupting my gruesome meal despite doing no actual harm, sending me back into my hunting frenzy as I jump towards the unfortunate archer as I snap his bow in-between my teeth before ripping out his throat.

This sends the few remaining guards that were frozen in fear running for cover in a panic. Their fleeing whipping me into an even greater frenzy as I chase after one of the unfortunate guardsmen into a corner by the outer wall.

Slowly stalking closer I lean down over the guard who seems to be quacking in their armor, trying and failing to hide against the wall, from my sight. I slowly bring myself to tower over them as my drool drips down upon their helm.

"Talos… Mercy!" I faintly hear them prey before something causes me to freeze on the spot as a moment of clearity reaches my very core.

"Papa! Help!" I hear Lucia, as clear as day, as insane as that sounds.

And the predatory hunger that drove me just moments ago, disappeared, filled with a paternal rage. I dig my claws into the wall surrounding Whiterun climbing over before bounding towards the Tower where I had heard her pleas previously.

"Arrooow!" I bellow as I continue on towards the tower, past a grizzled middle-aged orc who stands amidst the corpses of two sabre cats and a bear.

The orc while initially in shock, eventually smiles and says, "Blüdtuth, the Exiled Defender rises… It seems Malacath has deemed it fit to send a legend to serve as my good death. I can think of nothing better!" The orc laughs before following after the Gargantuan Werewolf in search of his good death.

I sense something following behind me, but I ignore it as something much more pressing pushes my to sprint even faster through the wild making my way towards the perimeter of the Tower as I see a number of bonfires surrounding the Khajiit caravans before it clicks that it is the caravan tents themselves that are on fire.

It is then I see it… A sight, that had I still been a mere mer, would have made my blood run cold… But now? Now it makes it bubble with an unquenchable rage.