Hairy Secrets

Not long after the battle Michael and his friends were standing around the now tied up Ondolemar, the Thalmor having been stripped of his robes and anything else that might be concealing something.

Michael had tried to interrogate the man, but sadly, he seemed to either be so willful to speak, or magically forced to hold his tongue. Even after cutting off all of the elve's fingers, he still refused to speak, even though his crippling injuries would now prevent him from conjuring even the most basic spells.

Unbeknownst to Michael, the only slight considered somewhat comparable to an Altmer having their ears cut was having their fingers severed. The belief of their magical superiority and traditions based on this idea made any who was incapable or talentless lesser than their brethren.

What he'd done to Ondolemar was comparable to having a Nord's tongue cut out, a Khajiit's tail or ears severed, or even an Orc having their tusks removed. Though, even if he did, it wouldn't have changed his actions.

Before they could get down to the nitty-gritty however, Vilkas turns to Illococoo and thumps his chest with a look of admiration not often seen in him or the other Inner Circle Companions, "You have a voice gifted by Kyne herself. Whatever you shouted might have saved our lives, the Thalmor might be scum, but they have a way with magic..."

Illococoo smiles at the praise, "Thanks! You didn't do too badly yourself!"

Shakeesh anxiously wets his lips, "Vilkas... About what the elf said... Is it true?"

...

Vilkas lets out a sigh, "Aye. It's true. Everyone in the Inner Circle is cursed with Hircine's 'gift'. That's the reason we are so hesitant to induct anyone else into it, tradition dictates a new member drinks blood to join, which happens to also be the one certain way to spread the curse..." he shakes his head solemnly, "We either abandon the traditions of Companions long past, or continue cursing those wishing to join the Inner Circle."

"You make it sound like some wish to be beasts?" Shakeesh inquires, brows furrowed.

Vilkas nods, "I'll not name them, but there are some who see it as a blessing, and wish to grant any who are willing the 'gift'. It may grant us strength, resistance to disease and poison, but it also curses us to an eternity of hunting in Hircine's domain." he rests a tentative hand on Shakeesh's shoulder, "I understand if you wish to leave the Companions but, I beg you to hold this dark secret..."

...

"Why did you take the curse, Vilkas?"

"I... I was young, eager. I thought nothing of the consequences, only the benefits. I see that now, but there is no way out for me now." the Companion admits.

Shakeesh lets out some air through his nose, "I'm not leaving the Companions, whether you be Werewolves or not, you are still the man I knew. It changes nothing, only the fact that I'll not be joining the Circle if it was offered." he says allowing Vilkas to breathe a sigh of relief.

"You two done romancing each other?" Michael suddenly asks from the side with folded arms, "Because we still have an elf and a bunch of elf corpses to deal with." he says while gesturing around the room with his head.

"What else there to be done? Just tell the Jarl that we were attacked and defended ourselves. I doubt he'd side with the Thalmor on this, Igmund is as honourable as any Nord." Vilkas replies, just wanting to get paid and return to Whiterun.

"Erm... Don't these guys control everything? Won't they be upset that we killed some of them?" Megumin asks unsurely.

Michael nods, "Yeah. They might just out the Companions as it is. If a nobody in Markarth knows your secret, you think no one else would? Plus, it probably wouldn't look good for Igmund is his men were seen carrying Thalmor corpses out of the Shrine of Talos... Like, almost worthy of his removal for fear of another war with the elves."

...

Shakeesh rubs his face, "What do you recommend then. I for one have no stomach for scheming and politics."

"Well..." Michael starts, bringing his foot up and stamping it down on Ondolemar, crushing his head against the stone ledge, blood splattering as his skull splits open. The others back away at this, but Michael just pulls out the Book of Legends and telekinetically shuffles the corpse into his inventory. "We'll hide the corpses and inform the Jarl of this in private. No evidence means no method of pointing fingers, publically at least..."

"T-the Jarl could blame their disappearance on the Forswor too, the Thalmor weren't present in the battle..." Tiffania says from the side, uncomfortable by Michael's casually slaughter of the tied up elf.

Shakeesh sniffs in annoyance, "Since you've already made the decision by killing our prisoner the choice is obvious. You can speak to the Jarl, I need a hard drink." he mutters, wiping the blood from his weapons on the Thalmor corpses and leaving.

Michael looks to VIlkas, "You not going with him?"

Vilkas shakes his head, "I'll leave him for now. He probably wants some time to himself after everything he's heard... Come, take these bodies so we can talk to the Jarl."

With that, the group stores the corpses and makes their way back to Understone Keep. It's somewhat difficult to get an audience with the Jarl, especially since he was so busy, but they eventually managed it.

The man wasn't at all surprised to hear what'd gone down, as many Talos worshippers in the city had been 'disappearing' as of late. He'd suspected the Thalmor but had no proof to call them out on it... Even if he did, there was little he could do because of the White-Gold Concordat.

All Markarth had was a flimsy agreement with Ulfric Stormcloak to allow Talos worship in the city, one they couldn't really enforce due to the High King's inability to assist them with the matter. This meant that the Thalmor could 'dissapear' people with little difficulty. And even if they were caught they'd either get a slap on the wrist or be exiled from Markarth depending o the severity of the crime.

This was the reason that Igmund was quite happy with them, the Thalmor Justiciars had been silently massacred, their own attempt to hide their murder of Talos worshippers working against them in this instance.

A couple days later, the group left Markarth after saying their farewells to the enthusiastic-looking Jarl, reward in hand.