Inheritance Chapter Three Options

[Zarrexaij]

I'll get some more comin' soon. Y'all just sit here and wait as I post more stuff. I won't edit this post to add more, though. I'll just post it.

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Inheritance
Chapter Three: Bark and Bite

Zarrexaij had just entered the famed meadhall of Thirsk when he had heard the guttural, accent-rich voice of a Nord barbarian.

“I heard from Isralla th’ other day there’s a werewolf runnin’ ‘round here. She said the wolf was unusual. He had jet black fuir and was ‘bout twice the size of a normal werwolf. She saw its shadow at the highest peak of Moesring Mountain barkin’ and howlin’ at the full moon. Somehow, the unholy beast saw her, and slid down the mountain sides t’wards her. Isralla reported that it seemed unusually intelligent... and, well... insane. Said it made strange sounds that sounded like laughter. Then, it disappeared into the night. That’s a bad sign. If it’s any smarter than the average werewolf, we have trouble on our hands.”

Zarrexaij was tempted to flee the place. He was a newcomer, and suspected they would find him a bit suspicious. Afterall, he was pretty damn tall, and his scales were darker than ebony. But... they couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t ever know the truth. Taking a deep breath, he gingerly closed the meadhall’s doors and stepped towards the group of Nords. They turned towards him, and were shocked to see such an unusual creature so far up north.

“What are ye, an overgrown Argonian?” the first one, a tubby, dirty blond headed male Nord interrogated him, cocking his broad head at the half-Rapthyr. Zarrexaij calmly, too calmly, answered, “No. I am a half-Black Rapthyr.” A second Nord, a tall strawberry blond with a little bit of facial hair, lifted an eyebrow.

“Ne’er heard of such a thing.” Zarrexaij laughed. He wasn’t surprised at all. Not that he thought they were completely incompetant, it was just that Black Rapthyrs were a dying breed. With an offended look on his face, the second Nord then riposted, “What’s so funny, eh?” Zarrexaij looked at him square in his blue-gray eyes. “I’m not surprised that you have not heard of the Black Rapthyrs before,” Zarrexaij replied ,“I just find it amusing. I apologize.” The Nord gave him a slow, pensive nod. The Nord’s eyes darted around for a few minutes before asking the bundled-up Rapthyr, or, rather, half-Rapthyr, another question. “What brings ye up this far, half... Rapthyr?” Zarrexaij thought for a second. Why was he here? Oh, that’s right. “I’m up here because,” Zarrexaij paused, gathering his scattered thoughts together in an organized way, “I like the forests and snow. It’s a bit of a ‘vacation’ for me. This place reminds me of Blacklight with the snow and all.” He chuckled heartedly, smiling at the memories that were more than five hundred years old.

“Oh, ye are from mainland Morrowind? Interestin’,” the Nord said it sincerely, swallowing saliva in his throat and causing his larynx to bob a little. The half-Rapthyr obsessively smoothed out his thick robe he bought from a trader in Khuul. Supposedly, it was made from furs of wolves. He thought the robe was a little... soft to be wolf fur. “I take it you don’t get much action up here? You Nords seem a bit bored,” Zarrexaij spoke loudly. His oddly beautiful voice jingled in the room as bells. The Nord gave him a half smile, “Not much. We drink. We be merry. Occasionally, we get a werewolf sightin’ or two back near the Moestring Mountains. I think it has to due with the Bloodmoon. So many bad omens have appeared here and there. It’s worryin’. Now, all we need is some damned witches and we’ll be complete.” The Nord chortled nervously. It was almost as if they were suffering greatly. They probably needed a good laugh.

This all happened a few weeks later when Zarrexaij had noticed something odd about the moons. It just so happened he was, unbeknowst to himself, about to be a part of something important again

[Zarrexaij]

Zarrexaij slowly lifted his eyelids.

Not much to surprise, he found himself face to face with the Daedric Prince. Quite literally, too. The first thing he saw were His eyes, those clear, cerulean blue eyes. The half-Rapthyr was caught off balance and surprised. He fell backwards, landing with a soft oof. The Daedric Prince had been bent over and staring at him. Zarrexaij held his long arms towards his chest, his claws inwards so he looked both non-threatening and submissive. He didn't wish to offend the Prince at all.

"Did you call for me for an actual reason, Zarrexaij?"

Zarrexaij blinked, looking up at Him with his strangely beautiful eyes. Clearing his throat, he peacefully replied, "Of course I did, Sheogorath, why would I ever do that for no apparent reason? I'm not blockheaded. I realize that binding you to Mundus for no good reason isn't astute or polite at all." He stood up, rolling his neck to crack it. His tail started twitching violently, and his hands begun to tremble. Sheogorath grinned lopsidely at him. "My sullen tone was false, mortal," the Prince replied with amusement, who now stood at a normal level. Zarrexaij was still significantly taller. Zarrexaij half-smiled. He felt more than a bit foolish. "Oh," he interjected sheepishly.

"I called on you for more than sheer grins and giggles. Wanted your unorthodox wisdom. And why did you call me by my name...?" he interrogated curiously, staring unblinkingly at his Lord. Sheogorath shifted His weight to the right side. Then, the Prince caught a glance of the scarred arm. He stepped towards Zarrexaij, catching ahold of it and examining it.

"I suppose thee got thyself into a dispute? If thou can't find a way of calming that wretched temper, I know that thee will be cornered with opponents much stronger. Though, it does look like..." He was stopped abruptly as Zarrexaij tried pulling back his arm. Sheogorath glanced at him hammishly. Zarrexaij lied, "I was bitten by an alit." The Prince made a strange noise, and dropped His cane to the ground so He could fold His arms. "You are an atrocious liar, Zarrexaij. Tell the truth, and I might not have to correct the problem."

"All right. I was bitten by a werewolf this morning. Hurts like hell," the half-Rapthyr explained grimly. His eyes lowered. He was expecting some kind of biting retort. "Did I hear you right? You were bitten by a werewolf? In Vvardenfell?" He questioned, lifting his left strawberry blond eyebrow. Zarrexaij sighed and nodded. Sheogorath lifted the other one and remarked, "Outlandish. Very much so. Mortal, have you been meddling with the Hunter Hircine?" Zarrexaij withdrew his muzzle. The Rapthyr felt prosecuted.

"Well, I made Him angry, but that was weeks ago." Uncomfortable, Zarrexaij felt, standing up. He moved towards his desk and sat down. Sheogorath followed him. It was intruiging that Zarrexaij was bitten. Was he lucky enough to have immunity to diseases? "Look, I'm going to get it checked out by a healer soon. I don't need you acting like my mother, dammit," he snapped abruptly, and shut his muzzle, realizing what he just said, and how much he could have insulted his Lord.

"Zar, I believe it's time for you to get cured anon. You're more irascible than usual. Normally, you're very cordial t'wards I, but that werewolf that rended your arm's flesh affected your mood. It's plain to see you've either contracted it, your precious 'security' is damaged, or both. It would not offend me if I stayed here while you found someone to check it out, today," He stood over Zarrexaij and declared very seriously. Zarrexaij let out a deep, long, gruff sigh. His fists clenched. "I'm NOT going to go in town to find a stupid healer. I'm foine. I'm FOINE! Nothing is wrong with me! I'm perfectly foine!" he exclaimed, standing up and raising both his hands exasperatedly. Sheogorath frowned. Zarrexaij was much more ill than He previously pondered.

"Zarrexaij, I suggest you calm yourself down before I lose my own temper on you, my stubborn mule. As much as I probably could not care less about it, it's for your own good if you actively seek out someone to take care of you, instead of opposing it," He paused, watching Zarrexaij's face changed from an angry one to a very terrified one, "There's something you desired to ask of me?" The half-Rapthyr felt a lump grow in his throat. He didn't feel so well. That was certain. He felt weak compared to usual, and his head ached. Silently, Zarrexaij collected his thoughts.

Finally, he got the courage to say, "I... I... I... I juh-juh-juh-just wanted tuh-to ask yuh-yuh-you if wuh-would help me with suh-suh-something."