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.

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

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]

"Since you don't appear to be foaming at the mouth, I'll inform your daughter you aren't a wolfman, yet."

Zarrexaij snorted loudly. His eyes followed the Daedric Prince as far as they could, though in the corner of his eye he could still see Him. He sighed deeply. Verunollo would probably come down as well and shove pipping hot soup down his throat. No matter. The guards were at their outside posts, so no worries there. All he wanted was a little peace and quiet, though pampering was good as well.

I need a bath he thought to himself, smelling his musk and twitching his nostrils in disgust. He could probably get a servant from the barracks, a spell or two, and some soap. The half-Rapthyr chuckled in delight. Admittedly, he was hardly a modest man. In his youth, he was considered quite the lecher. Now, he could go for a sensual pleasure. He had cooled off considerably since his early days. It was now his "duty" to settle down with a spouse. Though, at his state...

In the corner of his eye, he saw his daughter step up to him, with her beautiful black hair and deep dark red eyes. She was in a modest indigo dress that he bought for her. Zarrexaij grinned ironically. With her, she brought a large bowl of scrib jelly atop of scuttle. She cleared her throat and spoke in her delightfully soft voice, "I fixed this for you. Please eat it. You look terribly famished." "Thanks for the offer," he replied in his contrasted deep, low voice, "but I'd like to eat upstairs." Verunollo nodded, and gawked at him as he stood up wobbily.

She motioned to help him up, but Zarrexaij shook his head violently. "I can do it myself," he muttered gruffly. He stood up with a bit of effort and popped his back. Verunollo tsked at him, but made no comment. And that was exactly the way Zarrexaij liked it.


Zarrexaij lazily crawled up the steps and stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. The bed had not been moved back. That he was grateful for. He stepped into the dining room, and lifted his scaly brows. Verunollo had made dinner for both her and Zarrexaij, but he suspected she had set something aside in case Sheogorath had an inexorable craving for the taste of a mortal's food.

When Zarrexaij had sat at the table, he twitched. The two were eying him. He picked up utensils, and started eating the food at amazing speed. Famished indeed. Verunollo looked exceeding ham, and Sheogorath's face was twitching, as if with a tic. That hardly caught Zarrexaij's notice.

Sheogorath commented, "Is that normal?" Verunollo glanced at Him and blinked. "To be completely sincere, no." Sheogorath shuddered, and turned away. Zarrexaij blinked, and took his mouth off the spoonful of jelly. "What?" he interrogated with a mouth half-full of food. Verunollo giggled. "For a Redoran, you aren't acting anything like one," she teased, grinning widely at him. Zarrexaij went back to practically inhaling his dinner. After he had finished every speck of food, he wiped off his mouth with a hankercief. "Veruna, care to get one or two of the servants so I may take a bath? My scales are oily, my feathers smell like wet dog, and I feel like I bathed in ash mud," he remarked, grimacing at his reflection in the spoon.

"All right."