Blood of the Beast

Jorrvaskr was illuminated in orange and yellow light by the numerous braziers dotted around it as I climbed the steps towards the hall for the second time that day. I turned left at the top and headed towards the Skyforge though not climbing towards the forge, heading around the back of the hall instead. It was there that I met Skjor.

"Are you ready for this, Ragnar? This next step is not to be taken lightly."

"I'm ready."

"I'm not sure how this will affect your dragon blood. To be honest, I'm not sure if your body will even accept this new gift. But I would not fret. Your body is strong. You'll survive."

"Okay."

The Underforge was a cavern dug into the rock under the Skyforge, a stone façade keeping it a complete secret, likely even from those Companions not of the Circle. I followed Skjor inside and wasn't shocked to see a werewolf waiting inside for us. Skjor spoke grandly of the apparent gift this beast blood would prove to be, speaking of the honour that I would soon receive. I wasn't entirely convinced this was an honourable route. But I wanted to be a member of the Circle, and had seen the advantage of having the blood of the beast. Having dragon blood and my Thu'um was one advantage. In my battle against the dragons, I was going to need any advantage I could get. 'Let's just hope there's a cure if I want one.'

He then gestured towards the werewolf. "I'm sure you'd recognise Aela, even in this form. She has agreed to be your forebear." I would have said thanks, but had no idea if she'd understand me in this form. "We do this in secret because Kodlak is too busy trying to throw away this great gift we've been granted."

"What makes you say that?" I'll admit, I wasn't happy to hear such words about Kodlak. My respect for the man was high and he obviously had valid reasons to, from the sounds of it, want a cure. 'If that's what 'throwing away this great gift' means.'

Skjor heard my tone. "He thinks we've been cursed. Aela and I respectfully disagree. We consider this a blessing of Hircine. How can something that gives you this kind of power a curse? It would be similar to calling anyone of the dragon blood a curse."

I nodded. 'A valid point.' "But you're still doing this in secret?"

"To be honest, you're the first member of the Companions to be initiated into the Circle for many years. For one, Kodlak has forbidden this ritual. Secondly, the others are simply not ready. I can't fault their hearts but I don't believe they'll ever accept what it takes to become members of the Circle."

"But you think I'm ready?"

"You've proven yourself already, Ragnar. And your reaction to finding out about this blessing has been mostly positive. Correct?" I nodded. Again, he was right, to a point. "So that leads me to one final question, Ragnar. Are you ready to join your spirit with the beast world?"

I didn't think I should dilly-dally about responding. I needed to appear positive and sure this was the right decision. "I'm ready."

"Good."

I shouldn't have been surprised that this whole ceremony would have involved a blood ritual. I knew enough about alliances with daedra to know that blood was always involved somehow. Once there was enough blood for me to imbibe, he passed me the silver chalice. I smirked at the fact it was silver and, trying not to smell the liquid and hold back a gag, I drank deeply.

I blacked out about thirty seconds later.

*****

I opened my eyes to see stars. Lots and lots of stars. It was beautiful. I could have laid there all night and watched them twinkle, hoping to see a shooting star. Mother had told me that if I wished upon one then it would come true. Though I have no idea what I'd actually wish for. Then I shivered as I suddenly felt the onset of cold, looking to my left and right to see I was lying in the snow. 'How the…?' I shivered again before groaning as I sat up and realised I was somehow completely naked as I noticed a person with a torch head towards me.

"Ragnar?"

"Aela?" I asked in return as I got to my feet.

"I was starting to think you may never come back."

"What do you mean?"

"Yours was a difficult transformation. But you're still alive, so congratulations."

"Er, thanks." I then looked down before looking back up. I know I blushed, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks despite the cold. She looked down at the same time, probably a natural reaction, and I noticed the slightly raised eyebrows and, I think, a slight smile. 'Why do I have an erection? In fact, I feel… different. My eyesight appears even better than before. I swear I can hear water running. And what's that smell?' "Um, are my clothes anywhere around here?"

"What?" She blinked a couple of times before finally looking at me in the eyes again. "Yes, of course. They're over there, on that log," she said, thumbing behind herself.

I didn't bother covering myself as I walked past, considering she'd already seen everything anyway. I quickly dressed myself in my armour before grabbing my sword and sword, placing my helmet on last. Feeling slightly warmer now that I was at least dressed, Aela explained what we were doing. "As I said, yours was a difficult transformation. I think only Farkas was more troublesome. But, considering where we've ended up, we have a celebration for you."

"Should have I got dressed for this?" I asked.

She laughed. "No, Ragnar. Not that." 'Damn. I wouldn't have turned down such an opportunity.' "There's a pack of werewolf hunters camped nearby at a fort called Gallows Rock. I believe Skjor has told you about the Silver Hand, correct?" I nodded. "Good. Because we're going to slaughter them. All of them."

I looked around. "Where is Skjor?"

"He's scouting on ahead. Come on, we should catch up with him."

As we walked towards the fort, I had to ask "So what just happened?"

"You were born into the pack. The first time is almost the most… intense."

The tone she used made it sound almost erotic. "But I don't remember anything?" That was mostly true. I don't know how I got to where we were, but I did have faint memories of immense power and strength at my beckoned call.

"Most don't remember the first time they turn. The feelings are overpowering. Once you adapt to the blood of the beast, you will retain all your normal senses. But you will also experience the strength and power of the wolf."

We came to a stop not far from the fort. Aela extinguished the torch, cloaking us in darkness. In the faint light provided by the moon, and now with the enhanced eyesight the beast blood provided, I could see at least three Silver Hand standing guard.

"One question before we go further. Kodlak says this is a cure. What's your opinion? And be honest, considering I've now undertaken the ritual."

She was quiet for a moment. "Very well, I guess you deserve to hear it. I love Kodlak like a father. After my mother died, he looked after me like I was his own daughter. And I knew that took a lot of his heart as many of us know of his past. I will respect and follow him until the day he or I die. And I honestly mean that. But even the Harbinger, a great man such as Kodlak, can be wrong. The beast blood is no curse. We're made into the greatest hunters in the land. It's just a shame most of the milk-drinkers that surround us cannot understand this is a gift so their reactions are as you would expect."

"Nords like him and I are worried about entering Sovngarde," I retorted, "Surely you can understand why an 'old man' such as Kodlak would be worried about his very soul?"

"Then he's free to pursue a cure if that is what he desires. None of us will stop him. I think Vilkas and Farkas may even follow him into wanting a cure. If you eventually want to be cured too, then so be it. But I'll take the glories of the hunt right here."

I nodded in the darkness. "Thanks for honesty."

"You deserve to know the truth, Ragnar. If you want to hear the other side of the argument, speak to Vilkas or Farkas. You could even speak to Kodlak, though I'm not sure how he'd react to hearing you are now part of the pack. But that is for later. Come, we should handle these fools."

Gallows Rock was a crumbling old fort nestled in mountains some distance from Windhelm, or that's what Aela stated as she put arrows into two of the Silver Hand guarding the entrance while I cut down a third blindly charging at me through the darkness and snowfall. I ran him through with my sword, barely breaking stride towards the door leading into the fort. Thankfully there was no-one waiting for us on the other side and, after a quick exchange of views on tactics, both of us agreeing that stealth may serve us well considering we were only a pair, I took the lead as I swung my shield onto my back and would simply use my sword for now.

At the bottom of the steps, we stopped as two Silver Hand were sitting next to a fire. After a couple of hand gestures, Aela put an arrow in the Silver Hand sitting further away while I fell upon the other Silver Hand, my sword going through his gut before he'd barely had time to unsheathe his weapon. It wasn't the glorious sort of battle I had hoped for, killing a man practically unarmed, but our war against the Silver Hand wasn't about honour and glory. I had a feeling it was going to be ugly, like war generally is.

What angered Aela was finding the body of a werewolf. It was dead. Had been for quite a while, truth be told. Even I could see that. What angered her most of all was the evidence of torture, plenty of appliances used for that being found on the floor nearby.

"Anyone you know?" I asked as I did what I thought was a slightly honourable thing and cut the beast down.

She sniffed and shook her head. "It's not Skjor, at least. No-one I know otherwise."

"How many werewolves are out there?"

She shrugged. "I don't think anyone would truly know. Some are like us and are able to handle the transformations, control the beast within. Many others are incapable of that and basically turn feral, living most of their lives as werewolves."

"Where's Skjor?"

For the first time, I heard a hint of worry in her tone. "Hopefully he won't be too far ahead."

The hallways and corridors we followed were bathed in darkness, forcing us to walk forward slowly. Despite having better eyesight, or I think I did, though perhaps it was my mind playing tricks, I still couldn't see too well if it was dark. We finally reached a set of stair leading up, cautiously ascending, stopping near the top as we could see more Silver Hand standing guard at what was clearly a former prison, cells leading down to our left and right. Aela set herself ready to fire at a Silver Hand at the far end of the room and, with a simply nod, I jogged forward as she fired and decapitated the Silver Hand sat at a nearby table. The commotion caused two more Silver Hand to rush forward from the other side. I cut the first Silver Hand down with relative ease, the second one actually had some skill and I had to work hard without a shield, having to use only my sword to block a number of swipes and parries, the Silver Hand using her shield to keep me at bay. Keeping her attention, Aela had flanked the Silver Hand and, when I gave the signal, she grabbed the Silver Hand and drove her dagger into her neck. I could see a change in Aela's eyes and wondered if she was about to turn. But she didn't, simply letting the body of the Silver Hand fall to the floor.

Not all the cells were empty. Aela checked each one for any sign of Skjor but there was still no sign of our fellow Companion. There were three werewolves in total and I wondered what we should do with them.

"We'll have to leave them. I think they're feral."

"So they'll attack us too?"

She nodded. "Even if we transformed, they would still attack. Thoughts of the pack would mean little to them now."

Was I guilty about leaving them behind, likely to die in a cell? I'll admit I was, at least a little bit. Releasing them and cutting each of them down, if they attacked, may have been the more humane thing to do. But I trusted Aela's instincts so followed her suggestion.

At the end of the cellblock was another set of stairs, these leading down. The ceiling had caved in ahead, forcing us to take a side door. We stood to the side as I slowly opened the door, hoping the hinges would squeak as it did. I peeked around the doorframe and counted how many Silver Hand were waiting for us on the other side. Aela looked at me and I returned three gestures to state what was waiting for us. She simply nodded and reading herself to go.

I charged in towards the first Silver Hand barely half a dozen paces in. He managed to unsheathe his sword in time but I hit that away with my sword and used my shoulder to push him back into the wall behind. I heard the crack of his head hit the stone wall and I knew he was dazed, taking a step back and swinging my sword. I heard him struggle for breath, dropping his sword and raising both hands to his throat, the blood trickling through his fingers. I moved on, not even bothering to watch him die.

I headed right towards the second set of stairs as a second Silver Hand descended towards me, armed with only a great-sword. Our swords met with a metallic clash and I knew I'd made a slight mistake as he had the higher ground, a larger sword and therefore the advantage. So I backed off, seeing if the enemy would follow me down. Stupidly, he did as I met each of his swings or parries with my own. Even though I was focused on the Silver Hand in front of me, I could hear Aela working behind, the cries of battle taking place. I knew she was winning as she exclaimed victory over whoever she had just put down while I continued to dance with the Silver Hand opposite me. He was a big, lumbering brute and his swings were wild.

"Stop messing with him and put him down, Ragnar."

So I did. He swung wildly again, too wild as I simply ducked as the brute lost his balance. I stepped to the side and ran my sword into his side and watched him drop.

"Anyone else?" I called.

"No. The other two are dead."

I climbed the stairs to see one Silver Hand with an arrow where their left eye should be, while the other had their throat slit. We quietly searched around and it was clear this was a Silver Hand base of operations so taking everyone out was certainly the logical choice.

"Aela, where's Skjor?" I asked, unable to keep the concern out of my own voice.

Now she looked very worried. "I don't know," she said quietly.

I swallowed down anything I could have possibly said in reply to that. None of it would have given either of us hope that… the worst may not have happened. 'But surely we would have found him by now if he was alive? Perhaps they have him prisoner somewhere and will ransom him off?' I sighed to myself. 'I hope so.'

We followed the next hallway and almost stumbled into a lone Silver Hand perched next to a roaring fire in what appeared to be a rudimentary kitchen. Thankfully they didn't hear us approach as I stepped back, causing Aela to bump into me. "They're covered in heavy armour," I hissed.

"Sneak up and take their head off," Aela whispered back.

I looked at her like she was out of her mind but I couldn't think of any easier way to do it. The kitchen was far too small to be fighting in and I didn't particularly want to end up in a battle in the hallway. I nodded to Aela that I'd agreed with her plans and noiselessly handed her my shield. Swallowing hard, I slowly walked into the kitchen, holding the hilt of my sword with both hands like a club, the Silver Hand still warming their hands by the fire. If they sensed my presence, they made no movement to suggest they heard me approach. I lifted my sword ready to swing and then struck when I close enough. A bloody helmet went flying as the body fell forward, partly resting in the fire. I had no doubt the smell would soon become overpowering.

I couldn't help but breathe an enormous sigh of relief.

"Not bad for a big man. I thought for sure he would have heard you," Aela stated.

"Why the hell didn't you do it then?"

"Because I doubt I could have done that," she replied, pointing at the helmet sitting nearby, "With just a dagger, Ragnar."

She handed me my shield and I attached it my forearm. We continued on and I sensed there wasn't too far to go now. I was proven right as Aela tapped me on the shoulder at the bottom of the next set of stairs.

"What is it?"

"From what I remember of the layout of this fort, this is the last room. We're likely going to run into the leader of this Silver Hand unit."

"Okay."

"I've heard rumours of their leader. He's called 'The Skinner'."

"Charming."

"Do I need to tell you why?"

"No. I think I can figure that bit out. What's the plan?"

"Kill them all."

It was a solid plan.

I led the way to the what we thought was the final door, unsure of who we would meet on the other side and what exactly we'd find. I opened the door slowly, again hoping that no-one would hear our entrance. I counted four people immediately, walking in ready to fight.

"Which one of you is the Skinner?" I asked.

By the time I'd finished asking the question, Aela had already put an arrow into one of the Silver Hand as another Silver Hand, covered head to toe in heavy armour, slowly approached me. He pointed his giant mace at me before he pointed across the room. I couldn't help but follow and my stomach sank as I saw the body.

"A pity but you and your entire order will soon join him in Oblivion."

"You're 'The Skinner'?" He bowed slightly, not taking his eyes off me. "You may think we're all daedra worshipping fools but there is one thing you don't know about me. Would you like to know what that is?"

"And what is that?"

"I'm the Last Dragonborn."

The eyes behind the near full-face helmet, that had looked so confident only ten seconds before, changed immediately, only for a moment, but it was enough to know he now feared me. He beat his chest and beckoned me forward. "Well, come forward then, Dragonborn. I'll skin you just like the others."

The man was a fool and it was time to show him my other gift. He ran towards me with the mace high above his head and I simply shouted with all my might. The sheer force blew him back into the wall behind him, connecting with a sickening crunch, his broken body falling to the ground. I ran forward and pointed my sword at his neck. But the eyes behind the helmet were already dull and his life force was clearly ebbing away. I heard him mumble something but didn't bother leaning over to hear what he said. A few seconds later, his head dropped to the side.

I turned around to see Aela on her knees next to the body of Skjor. "He should not have come in without a Shield-Brother," she stated angrily before looking at me. I almost took a step back. "He was the strongest of us and now he's gone. They're going to pay for this in blood, Ragnar. This is just the beginning."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity." I joined her on the ground next to Skjor. His body had been mutilated. It was clear we had interrupted the 'Skinner' in the middle of his task. Aela didn't look away as she gently stroked Skjor's head. 'Well, if there was any doubt about their relationship. But it's not my place to say anything.' "Do you want me to look around? See if I can find anything?"

She nodded. "Just give me a couple of minutes."

"Of course."

I searched the room and found some information about Silver Hand operations, but I didn't read too much as I kept an eye on Aela. I didn't miss the fact she wiped her eyes a few times. The Huntress has a heart. Surprisingly, she leant down to kiss his forehead, her last gesture before she got to her feet and approached me. "What have you got?"

"A journal. Doesn't say too much but I think it's enough to go on for now."

"Good work."

"Thanks. So… What do we do with Skjor?"

"We take him back to Whiterun and send him to Hircine's realm properly." She noticed the look I gave. "It is what he wanted, Ragnar. He did not have dreams of Sovngarde like you or Kodlak. Please respect that."

"I do. Don't worry."

"Good. I'll find something to wrap him in to cover his wounds. Would you be able to carry him out?"

I nodded. Aela used a couple of fur blankets from some beds in the room and soon we had Skjor wrapped from head to toe. Skjor had been a big man but I managed to pick him up in both arms and carry him out though my arms were screaming to stop by the time I had him strapped to my horse that Aela had brought along after my turning.

The sun rose as we made our way back to Whiterun. It was cold and started to rain, the weather matching our mood as grey clouds spread out across the sky as far as the eye could see. Aela said absolutely nothing the entire way and I left her alone with her thoughts, not trying to tempt her into any conversation. Her body language alone spoke volumes about her inner turmoil. I have no idea if she loved Skjor as a man or if she was upset at losing a close companion within the guild. But I'd heard rumours that they had been very close. But it was also the clear anger she had. It matched my own. Skjor was good man and I would mourn his loss like the others.

We rode into Whiterun and stabled our horses. I carried his body in both arms again as we approached the city gates. By the time we had walked through, the town guard had formed an honour guard leading up towards the Bannered Mare. Numerous civilians came to a stop as Aela and I passed by, hearing the whispers and questions of 'Who died?' I guess they would find out soon enough.

News passed quickly up to Jorrvaskr as by the time we'd climbed the steps, everyone else was waiting for us, including Kodlak. If he knew about our ritual from the night before, he said nothing. There was no missing the heartbreak on his face though. Vilkas gestured for me to carry his body up to the Skyforge where a pair of priestesses were already waiting for us.

"They will prepare his body for the funeral this evening," Vilkas explained once I'd placed his body on a bench.

"What happened?" Farkas asked.

"The Silver Hand," I stated simply, leaving out the part about the ritual. I guess they'd find out soon enough. "I'd better speak to Kodlak about what happened."

"That would be best."

I thought Kodlak would have come up to the Skyforge to perhaps view the body but Ria told me he'd returned to his quarters. I took my helmet off as I approached the doors to his sitting room, the old man in his usual seat. He looked at me, nothing but sorrow in his eyes and it was as if he'd aged a hundred years in a few minutes. "Dragonborn," he stated simply.

I took a seat across from him. "I feel I have some explaining to do, Harbinger."

He didn't appear too surprised that I needed to get something off my chest. "I assume you underwent the ritual?" I simply nodded. This was not a time to lie. "I thought you would have eventually."

"You're not disappointed?"

"Disappointed? No. Surprised? I'll admit, yes, I am. But I never thought we would have lost Skjor. At least not like this."

I explained everything that happened. Kodlak let me talk without interrupting. At the end, all he did was nod that he understood but he didn't ask any questions. I guess there was no point. Skjor was dead. That was all that mattered. I made to leave and was about to walk out the door when he did ask one question.

"Tell me, Ragnar. Did any survive?"

"No, Harbinger. We slaughtered them all."

The old man nodded. "Good. Good."

"Do you need anything, Harbinger?"

"No, Ragnar. Just be there at the funeral tonight. That's all I ask."

"Of course, sir."

The old man turned away and stared into nothingness as he wallowed in his grief. My heart went out to him but there was nothing I could say or do to help. I quietly closed the doors behind me and simply returned home.