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 had taken a bath, and was naturally soaked. He was sitting on a stool with his dripping feathers behind his shoulders. The servants were cleaning up the bath. They weren't heeding him at the moment. Zarrexaij's eyes were staring off into nothingness. The naked Rapthyr was just sitting there, shaking slightly. Then, he fell forward, limp. His body started trembling, until it became a violent fit. The youngest servant, a dainty Dunmeri lass, had seen him fall and shrieked. All the servants turned towards their master, his eyes rolled back in his head with his tongue lolling out of his mouth lazily. His face was parallel to the ground. Naturally, the oldest of the bunch went to fetch his daughter.

The young Dunmeri inched towards his body. She was afraid for his life, and hers. His trashes made her very uneasy. The girl sat down, and propped the Rapthyr's head in her lap. His head felt very heavy. Verunollo finally entered the room, and her eyes were wide. Behind her was the curious Sheogorath, gazing over her shoulders. Veruna's eyes filled with rage. "Someone get my a blanket, a towel, anything! He needs to be warm," she demanded furiously, dropping to his side and staring at the servant. Verunollo/Veruna looked askew at the rest of the servants as another one went off to fetch a blanket.

Sheogorath was no longer in the doorway, and had tooken a position close to Zarrexaij's daughter. He held a pensive countenance. He gripped his cane tightly with his right hand. Veruna winced as Zarrexaij subconciously dug his talons into her, and she looked up at the Daedric Prince numbly. "He's been having these fits more and more frequently," she explained in a soft voice, "He started having them three years ago. We have a healer to deal with this, but I'm afraid they're a bit a-ways from here." The Daedric Prince watched a servant put a blanket over the slowly calming epileptic body of the Rapthyr. Zarrexaij opened his eyes briefly, and uttered softly, "I'm here." The rolled back in his head, but his violence had stopped.

"Watch over him while I fetch the healer," Veruna said to no one in particular. She headed out the door. Sheogorath eyed the Rapthyr. His eyes were now focused on Him. They were dull and glazed over, a very pallid shade of blue. Helpless eyes. Terrified eyes. An expression of confusion entered his face. Startled, he sat up, looking around him frantically. "Where am I?" he interrogated. His muzzle darted around. The Daedric Prince almost pitied him. Zarrexaij had became a little lost child. In a low voice, He replied, "You are home." Zarrexaij twisted his head around.

"Who are you?" Zarrexaij looked even more bewildered. Sheogorath looked at him dumbfounded for a few seconds and shook His head briskly to shrug it off. He could lie to the confused creature, but he chose not to. That would be exceedingly cruel, and He wasn't exactly the Daedric Prince of Treachery. "Sheogorath, Zarrexaij," he replied blandly, masking a bit of amusement. The Rapthyr curled up in the blanket. His eyes had a lost a little of the puzzled gleam. They suddenly lit up.

"Oh, you're the Daedric Prince of Madness. I think I have summoned you before," he commented with an unsettling smile. Sheogorath nodded slowly and arched a gentle light eyebrow. "You had a bit of a fit there," Sheogorath remarked gently, deciding to sit down next to the tall, blanketed creature. Zarrexaij had a faint grin creep across his narrow, elongated face. He said drolly, "It won't be my last."

About an hour or so later, Veruna appeared. With her was a Khajiit healer. He was taller than Veruna, and wore a simple brown robe with a pack slung around his shoulders. Dro'rasha was his name. Dro'rasha stepped towards Zarrexaij, and barely paid attention to the Banker. The Khajiit hmmmmed. He was scruntinizing the Rapthyr. "His eyes are a bit dilated. Give him a trama root paste. Make sure he doesn't go to sleep for about four hours, and don't let him exert himself. If he strains himself, he'll have another seizure," the Khajiit informed Verunollo. Zarrexaij peered at his daughter anxiously. Veruna nodded obeidiantly, and paid the Khajiit.

"Sometimes, Zarrexaij, you are a real bother," said his daughter, a relieved look on her face.