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Unbound Familiar

An avid gamer nerd's dreams come true in another brutal yet lucky? fashion. Follow him as he does his best not to die in laughably humiliating ways, all while trying to escape his abrupt and unwanted servitude. Will his knowledge of the world he finds himself help him succeed? Will he return home? Will evolve past his title of 'Dog'? Read and find out! This will be another multiversal world-hopping story, similar to my other one, EBW. I'll not spoil the surprise of the first world, but Skyrim will eventually be involved... And no, I'll not be adhering to plot, instead destroying it and hopefully not butchering the original story in the process. Feel free to join my Discord : https://discord.gg/EJxRKkwtDm Also, if you enjoy my stories, want to read ahead, and or support me. Take a look at my Patreon : https://www.p.atreon.com/Nagross Also, I've 'borrowed' the picture from : greenmapple17, on Deviant Art.

Niggross · Video Games
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713 Chs

Half of Twilight

Saeko and the Companions had been busy away from the Civil War, scouring Silver Hand fortresses in search of the Shards of Wuuthrad. The Silver Hand had actually thought that placing the shards in many different locations would aid in keeping them... A mistake considering that the Companions almost had enough to reconstruct the axe.

They'd recovered more shards than they'd originally had, making this conflict more than beneficially for the guild.

The Silver Hand themselves were in panic mode, they'd never expected to lose so much ground so quickly. Even their Thalmor ally turned out to be useless, especially as they were also at a loss due to the destruction of a large portion of the Aldmeri Dominion navy.

The Aldmeri Dominion held their people in Skyrim partially responsible for the destruction of the fleet simply due to them not warning their leaders of the presence of incredibly powerful ghost ships...

Regardless, the Companions search would soon come to an end as they approached the last Silver Hand fortress, one where Krev the Skinner was supposedly hiding.

Saeko and the Companions kneel behind a treeline overlooking the Silverhand base, they'd already picked out the vulnerable spots, targets, and less than enthusiastic guards.

"So, are you all going to go..." Saeko pauses, circling her own face with a finger, "Wolf mode, this time?"

Aela nods, "Of course, when else would we get the opportunity... Regular folks wouldn't understand it, the feeling of the hunt... The excitement..." she says with a misty look in her eye.

"There's nothing like it." Skjor adds in agreement.

Vilkas shakes his head, "You're right, there's nothing like wanting the taste of blood at all times of the day... Stop promoting our curse to our friend, or I'll have Kodlak speak with you once we return to Whiterun."

"He didn't seem to care when we had Shakeesh join us." Aela sourly remarks.

"Maybe because it was already too late to stop it? You two may enjoy our 'condition', by pulling others into it without telling them everything is the worst thing you can do." Vilkas grouses, the topic clearly angering him.

Aela sniffs, "A true hunter would appreciate it for what it is. More strength, more speed, more vitality, immunity to poison and disease, and the ability to shift into a stronger form."

"And damning yourself to Hircine's realm, along with the neverending lust for blood and battle." Vilkas dismissively adds.

As they argue, Saeko listens in with interest, finding herself drawn towards the 'curse'... Her only real weakness now was her mortal body, any increase to her strength would drastically improve her combat abilities... Strength and speed were like base numbers and her techniques multiplications for those...

She shakes her head, deciding to think on it more later, "Quiet, we're about to invade a heavily armoured fortress if you've forgotten?"

Aela bites her retort, "Aye... We already know the plan, let's kill this 'Skinner' and recover the rest of the shards." she says, her body steaming as she morphs into her Werewolf form.

Vilkas sighs, "Let's just get it over with..."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thirty minutes later :

"Hahaha! You damn dogs think you can come here into my fortress, kill my people, and get out of it alive!?" Krev the Skinner exclaims as Saeko and the other Companions charge into the large hall.

The place was decorated from floor to ceiling in Werewolf pelts, it wasn't as horrific as say, human skin, but it was still disturbing enough with how it was present... Most of the pelts hadn't been cleaned properly, leaving them half-rotten and stinking like old carcasses.

The black stains made it apparent that the crazy Nord hadn't even waited for his prey to die before skinning them. Which would explain why some were so messily done, a squirming Werewolf wasn't a calm portrait...

Krev points to Saeko with a mad gleam in his eye, "And you, wolf-fucker, will serve as my bed warmer until you brea-"

*Slash!*

*Thud!*

*Clink.*

Saeko sheathes her sword, ignoring the fearful looks from the other Silver Hand members who hadn't expected their leader to be cut down in an instant. "Why is every Silver Hand wanting to assault me..." she mutters in exasperation.

"Because you're good meat." Aela in her Werewolf form states with a chuff.

...

Saeko shakes her head and slams her fist into the face of a sneaking Silver Hand member, knocking him out cold. "You guys can deal with the rest of them, I'll find the shards."

Everyone gets to work at their respective duties, Saeko eventually finding the shards hidden in a rotting Werewolf carcass in the fortress' prison, while the others eradicate any remaining member of the accursed Werewolf hunters.

Surprisingly, they do find a peculiar trio trying to make a break for the back exit of the fort... Thalmor.

"Wait, wait, wait! We had nothing to do with anything and no one! Leave us be and you'll never see us again, I swear it on my mother's soul!" one of the hooded men exclaims as Saeko closes in on them.

"'Nothing to do with no one' is a double negative, which means you had something to do with someone... Either you have a poor grasp of the language, you're stupid, or fear's made you so." she remarks as she approaches. "So which is it?"

...

"We're stupid?"

"Right answer, but not the one I'm looking for." she coldly says, flicking her blade out and cutting the legs off of the men. She then grabs a nearby torch and cauterizes the wounds... One of them dies from shock, but the other two live yet... Unfortunately for them.

She glances over her shoulder at Vilkas who was observing things, "Do we have room in Jorrvaskr for a prisoner?"

Vilkas nods, "Aye, I'm sure Kodlak wouldn't disagree with it either."

She smiles, "Good."

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