Drujeeta looked from her children to the throne, upon the throne sat Sheogorath. Drujeeta advanced upon the throne like a
mad dog. Drujeeta's eyes were on fire as she stared at the prince of madness like he murdered one of her children. "What in
Oblivion were you playing at Sheogorath?" Sheogorath just sat there grinning like an idiot. "Well? Say something you damn fool!"
After minutes of silence, he spoke, clearly amused by the Argonian's dumbstruck expression,
"Poor deluded mortal, haven't you figured it out yet? I'm Sheogorath, the prince of madness? Ring any bells?"
Drujeeta interrupted him, jabbbing a clawed finger into his chest, forcing him back "Listen 'prince of madness' I don't give a damn
who you are and what in Oblivion you do, but why in the hunting grounds do you torment mortals? Do you think it funny? does it
amuse you?" She asked, her temper slowly rising like a tide
Sheogorath eyed her with utter contempt while walking around her like a hawk circling its prey
"Well, little Argonian, it's in the title, isn't it?" He said laughing, much to Drujeeta's displeasure
He stroked his grey beard as he thought of something,
"Do you know what happens to mortals who make me angry?"
Drujeeta shook her head, she hadn't the foggiest. Sheogorath sat back down at his throne and smiled while his cat-like eyes
flickered,
"They get sent to the hills of suicide and suffer a nasty 'accident' on the hill of suicides." She looked at him as if he had shoved
something foul in front of her snout. To make his point clearer, he made the sound of a body in freefall followed by a sound of vocal
flatulence.
Drujeeta did not flinch at this nor did she turn away; she just stood there, looking at the grinning daedric lord. Thinking of
something, she fixed the prince with a stern look,
"Sheogorath, did you place a curse on my pack?" She asked, even though she did not know where the question had come from
The madgod just sat there gawking at her,
"Why mortal, what would give you that idea?" He asked
Drujeeta shrugged and slowly sauntered toward his red and black throne,
"Oh, I dunno, I seems like something you would do," She said, walking over to a wooden table by the and stabbing it with her
her dagger. "Just like trapping me in that hellish illusion." Sheogorath knew she was talking about the fake hunting grounds he had
sent her to.
She wrenched the dagger free and advanced on Sheogorath, smiling evily as her tail batted the air like a whip. The daedric lord did
not cower behind his throne, instead he sat there in quiet comtemplation,
"So what if I did? It's not like your tiny, insignificant mortal mind has the power to do anything about it."
Drujeeta's forehead broke out in a cold sweat, she could feel the wolf prowling just beneath the surface of her mind; no matter how
hard the beast hammered, she managed to keep it contained. Sheogorath got up from his throne and grabbed something that
Drujeeta could smell but not see,
"Careful little mortal, you wouldn't want your kids to suffer an accident, do you?"
As he led them out, she could see that Milsha and Tulen had collars around their necks-and not just any collars: silver collars. She
managed to control the wolf inside her lest her remaining children and nephew were harmed. Tulen, unlike Milsha, who was calm
about this, transformed into his wolf form desperately trying to extricate himself from his sliver collar. Despite the burns the collar
was giving him as it cut into his skin, he continued to fight against his bonds: he bit and clawed at the collar, but nothing worked. His
head sagged as he admitted defeat.
The daedric lord looked menacing at the Argonian while the prisoners stood to the left of the throne. He told the Argonian that if
she let go of her anger then he would release Tule and Milsha. Drujeeta groaned and begrudgingly agreed. Her body slackened as if
it was releasing years of built up tension. She knew the daedric prince was toying with her as a wolf would with piece of meat.
She watched in fright as Tulen, or Tulen's wolf, kept clawing at the silver chains trying to get at Drujeeta. Red liquid squirted forth
like a sprinkler from hiis neck where the collar cut in. Drujeeta began to cry and Sheogorath finally caved after five minutes of
hearing the bawling argonian. He unlocked the two silver collars, much to Drujeeta's delight. Milsha ran to her mom bawling her
eyes out as she pointed to Ironclaw, her face a mask of shock.
Ironclaw fell to the floor, bleeding from his neck; Drujeeta smelled the blood and ran to her nephew's side,
"What have you done you bastard?" She yelled, glaring at the grinning daedric prince
He just sat there and did nothing. The amber Argonian yelled in anguish at the prince once more. This time, the prince heard her
and snappped his fingers lazily; the blood that flowed from Ironclaw's neck slowed and seconds later, stopped. It congealed, turning
the same shade of red as his fur. He got to his four paws and rounded on the mad daedric prince; The daedric prince grabbed the
wabbajack, hanging onn a hook within arm's reach of the throne-though he could have easy willed in into his hands-and pointed it
att the iron-red wolf. The red wolf lunged for the grey three-faced staff whcih caused the the red beam of light that shot out of the
wabbajack to hit the column that the female Argonian leaned against; she had to shield her face with her hands as rubble rained
down upon her.
Ironclaw was successful in his tug of war with the daedric prince. In a few moments, the wolf suceeded in prising the staff out of the
mad god's grip and flung it; the staff spun across the floor, stopping only as it bumped into the pillar.
Ironclaw gave one last cold glance at the daedric prince before he gave a loud howl and transformed back in his reptilian form.
Drujeeta ran over to her son and wrapped his arms around him,
"Tulen, I thought you had died." She cocked her head at him, "H-how did you come here?" She asked as she looked him up and
down.
He told her that he was at the makeshift camp fifteen feet from the city of Balmora when he felt a strange sensation as the camp
swam before him and seconds later, was replaced by the palace of New Sheoth. He turned and she saw two marble-sized fires
burning in his eye sockets; he pointed to the daedric lord and snarled,
"Not one second after I came here, that damned daedra caught me and forced me into... that," He pointed to the broken silver collar
at his feet. "The stinking skeever must've jumped me when I was still getting oriented."
The dark green Argonian creased his forehead as he pondered on why Sheogorath would do such a thing; maybe he thought it was
entertaining or amusing. Tulen's eyes went wide and as he had a rather unnerving thought Oh Hircine, what if he was working with
another daedra? He glanced worldessly at his mother
This took Drujeeta by surprise, She fumbled in her brain for an answer,
"Well, erm, the hist trees dotting blackmarsh empregnate our species, it decides how and when we give birth."
Drujeeta paused and looked down at Tulen, ruffling his leafy hair,
"Except Juleen and I are not Hasir's birthparents, we were entrusted with the egg, this is true, but, his dad is of the Kota-Vimhleel
tribe in Murkmire."
She stopped speaking for a moment and a sadness passed over her,
"His parents had too flee Blackmarsh, for what reason I do not know. They left Haisr's egg behind."
She waved a hand dismissively in the air,
"Anyway, during Hasir's procreational period, She must've given him the gift."
She looked at her nephew with loving eyes,
"Anyway, I am getting off topic, errrm... anyway in their haste to flee, Hasir's egg fell off of the cart." She said with a pained smile
She bent lower to her children and nephew, who sat is a circle around her,
"Who wants to hear how werewolves came to be?"
Three clawed hands pierced the air,
"Well, okay then." She smiled, clapping her hands together
Drujeeta cleared her throat and began her tale,
“Long ago when Tamriel was but a rock floating through space, beings of immense power called daedra came into existence and
helped form Mundus.” She looked at her kids’ confused looks. “That is what they call our world.” She added. Milsha was about to
ask a question when his mother shushed him and told him not until after she finished her tale.
“Anyway, when Tamriel was young, a primordial force known as the Et’a came into existence. The Et’a gave birth to the daedra,
beings that originated from deep in a land known as Oblivion which is situated in the molten core of the planet.”
Drujeeta saw that her kids were getting bored, so she cut to the chase. She skipped all the extraneous details.
She cleared her throat once more.
“Hircine is the daedra responsible for the werecreatures he gave birth to and wanted a place where they would feel at home, Think
of it as a garden of eden."
She paused, looked at the three small blank faces around her and then went down a new route with her thoughts,
"Erm, think of it as a paradise where wolves will serve Hircine for enternity."
Milsha's eyes teared up,
"Does that mean you not be joining with the other Argonian spirits?"
Drujeeta knelt down to quiet down the second youngest, who was nearly in tears,
"Sadly, I will not be joining them, I will either go to coldharbour or the hunting grounds when I die. Most likely, I will go to the
hunting grounds to hunt forever alongside your father.
The young argonian wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her blue dress,
"Okay, that makes me feel a bit better, but, if as you say, daedric princes are bad, why does that make Hircine any different?"
Drujeeta smiled warmly at Neesha,
"Hircine is the father of manbeasts, if he were evil, I am sure that his wolves would sense it, we werewolves are good at leading
with our noses." She punctuated this point by lightly touching her daughter on her nose.
Drujeeta's eyes suddenly misted over. The palace seemed to swin in front of her like a ripple in the water. The argonian saw, in her
mind's eye, her nephew, fully grown, and beside him stood two wolves, one white with blue eyes and one black with yellow eyes,
Drujeeta let own a loud gasp,
"Oh Hircine, my nephew..." She backed into a pillar and slid down it.
As she hit the floor with a soft thud. The palace came back into view, they ran over to her wearing shocked expressions on their
faces.
Tuleen bent down to help his aunt to her feet,
"Aunt Drujeeta, you gave us quite a scare, what happened? You were talking to Neesha and the next thing we know, you were
slumped against a pillar."
Drujeeta began to open her mouth and then promptly shut it again. She could not tell her children about Molag Bal's plan to
eradicate Hircine's children. How could she? They'll never understand.
Sheogorath smiled to himself as he knew what Drujeeta saw in her mind as he too knew of her ancestor marrying a child of Molag
Bal, much to the latter's desire for his bloodline to remain pure. He just sat on his throne grinning broadly like an idiot, one who
knew something about the impure union that she didn't. At once, Drujeeta sat up straighter, she had heard something.
The palace doors imploded and four silver hand members came though the opening. At their head was a nord outfitted in daedric
armor. He was wielding a silver sword. The leader and his men charged their prey. Drujeeta transformed into her silver haired,
blue eyed wolf form and charged on all four paws at the leader, whose name was Faolchu the changeling.
Both sides rushed towards each other trading blow for blow. A silver hand member was torn apart from Silver's powerful claws; she
tore into his chest and ripped the heart free of the chest cavity. The other two members of the silver hand turned to run. Silver,
however,sensed their movements and reacted, running at them and knocking them to the floor. Their hearts were ripped from their
chests as well.
The leader of the silver hand screamed as his joints and bones broke and reformed, he seemed to grow in height and his body grew
longer, his muscles became more defined, white hair sprouted all over his body, his mouth and nose lengthened into a wolf muzzle
and his eyes took on an amber hue; The werewolf used his back legs as a springboard and lunged at silver, the she-wolf tried
to dodge the wolf's mighty jaws, but the jaws tore into the silver werewolf's stomach, causing her to yelp in pain.
Silver finally managed to shake the huge wolf off of her and, blood dripping from her stomach, and slashed at the creature's
face, causing a huge gash to open under his right eye. His wound healed immediately. The wolf snarled at Silver.
The werewolf stalked the particularly tasty meals that were mere
inches from its muzzle. Silver tried to run tried to protect to two creatures in front of her but the pain in her gut was making her feel
light-headed. She finally collapsed from severe blood loss and slipped in unconsciousness.
Silver realized the danger too late as the werebat was upon them. He knocked her to the ground. Silver, however, was not going to
give up that easily, he trained too hard to be beaten this easily. He was on the ground only for a minute and then just as the white
werewolf was just about to finish Silver off, Tulen ran at the white wolf, unsheathed his silver sword and in one quick motion, he
he slashed the creature's stomach wide open. The creature did not fall over, blood flowed from the spot where Tulen had wounded
the wolf. Tulen gasped as the wolf's stomach seemed to magically sew itself up much like a seamstress would sew a torn shirt.
The creature backhanded Tulen with one paw, which sent he spiraling through the air. He collided with a stone pillar, knocking him
unconscious.
The Silver hand leader blanked the Argonian's limb body and focused his attention on Silver. Claws met as they attacked each other,
the silver wolftore at the wolf's chest with her claws. He transformed in Ironclaw succeeded in ripping large gashes in the white
werewolf's chest, slowing his attack. The Silver and red werewolves snarled and ran at Faolchu. they immediately began clawing at
their target. the wolf tried to throw them off, but they clung on, causing the wolf to yelp in pain.
Tulen transformed back into his reptilian form and gasped as the werewolf seemed to regenerate, gashes scabbed over and fur
grew back, she turned away from the werewolf and walked over to the unconscious form of the silver wolf and opened a scroll,
words danced in front of her for a second and then were gone. She cast the spell; she, her son, daugter and nephew vanished. She
could hear the white wolf's howling of rage as she spun through space and time
The werewolf, Tulen realized, was but a distraction, the real threat was watching them, biding his time so he could find the opportune
time to attack. Both he and his aunt wondered who this 'threat' was and what his purpose was and why he would send lackeys to do
his dirty work unless he was just toying with them, sitting back, carefully planning his next move.
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