The Gift of Tongues II

The witch who stowed her dagger slowly approaches me with her hands raised and bows her head before saying, "Greetings to the Champion of the Wild One."

I'm thrown off for a second, but I stow my weapons before returning her bow.

"And greetings to you..." I say, trying to mimic her tone before slightly bowing to her.

"It is an honor to meet the Wild One's Champion, have you come to deliver a message to the Mothers?" The witch asks with an inquisitive but slightly reverent tone.

'This is... Weird... I guess this is due to Hircine's blessing? I wonder what I can get out of this?' I think to myself before nodding to the witch who leads me to the circle of hagravens who seem to be creating a Briarheart warrior.

I watch patiently as the hagravens conclude their ritual.

I can faintly see a green light shrouding the foresworn's body as one of the hagravens drives her hand into the man's chest with her clawed hands, ripping out his still-beating heart before another hagraven puts a spriggan heart in its place.

That green energy circles around his open chest wound as the spriggan heart seems to take root and heal around the wound.

The whole process is over in a few minutes, with the new Briarheart warrior taking up a new weapon, a boney great axe.

Before the Briarheart silently kneels down before the circle of hagravens.

The hagravens begin chanting before the central crone pulls out a deer hide water skin, from which she draws a thick black substance, almost like crude oil, that she begins drawing a symbol on the Briarheart's forehead.

After drawing a crescent moon on the Briarheart's forehead, he stands before giving a final bow to the hagravens.

The Briarheart warrior then walks out of the camp. Stopping when he passes me, staring into my eyes for several moments before nodding and walking away.

I make my way to the group of hagravens. Standing before their blood-soaked alter as they hobble around it to stand before me.

The oldest of them, who seems to be this coven's leader, bows to me before lifting her head and asking, {What brings the Wild One's Champion to our humble coven?}

I pause for a moment, contemplating what to tell the hagraven since this is the first time I can recall talking to one, except when you marry a hagraven in that one quest.

"I come for Nettle Bane and to let you know my people are building a city nearby and for you and your coven not to attack them," I tell her commandingly.

{Anything for the Wild One's Champion...} The old crone says as she motions to one of the witches, who walks off before coming back a few minutes later with the blade.

A young witch returns with the blade and is about to hand it over when the old crone holds up her hand, stopping her in her tracks.

{However... This is a powerful weapon, painstakingly forged by me and my sisters... Through the deaths of many tree folk… And to ask us not to use the foreigners as we see fit... You may understand my confusion... What might we get in trade... The Wild One's Champion...} The old crone asks, obviously angling to get something from me.

I think for several moments before deciding to pull out everything from the [Ingredient] Category in my inventory space.

I picked up quite a lot of random crap so far. Pulling it out took about five minutes, but once I pulled out the Deadra heart, I picked up from God knows where I could see the light twinkle in her and her sisters' eyes. However, the old crone was quick to try and suppress it before clearing her throat.

{These are some... Mundane ingredients, but they will suffice... For now...} She says, reaching for the pile of ingredients.

I, however, am not going to let her take all my ingredients, even if most of them are just junk, so I quickly grab her wrist.

Feeling her cracked and pox-scarred skin against my own almost makes me want to lurch back in disgust, but I hold firm.

Surprisingly, I sense a sickening green energy starts to flow from the hagraven, into me. Though, before it finishes traveling past my elbow, my heart seems to pulsate with a deep amber-tinged power in response to the unexpected intrusion, forcing it back.

With the intrusive energy expelled, I glare at the hagraven, tightening my hand around her wrist before saying, "I could choose to trade in your lives instead."

This prompts all the remaining witches and hagravens to draw their daggers and claws. However, before anyone can advance toward me, the old crone raises her free hand, making them stop dead in their tracks.

{Apologies, Champion of the Wild One… I mean, no offense…} The old crone apologizes, though I can feel the dissatisfaction in her voice.

I release her hand, glad to be rid of the diseased claw, I bend down and take the Deadra heart from the pile of random ingredients and place it in the old crone's clawed hand. Making her eyes glimmer with a dangerous shine of excitement.

Seemingly making the previous disagreement disappear with the wind as she is enraptured by the Deadra heart.

With the old crone distracted by her new prize, I nod, taking all my ingredients and grabbing Needle Bane.

The dagger feels ancient and warm to the touch; the second I grab it, I feel a connection to it as the energy that emanates from it, much like the old crone's had earlier.

But instead of a sickening infection, as it had been with the old crone, this dagger seems to be soaked in a primal hunger, similar to what I feel when I'm in wolf form.

Instead of repelling the energy, I feel the dagger and my heart flow as one, and it seems to grow roots out from its handle, firmly latching onto my hand.

However, when I stow the blade in an empty sheath at my ankle, the roots retract back into the handle, and my hand seems perfectly fine.