Hunter Or The Hunted? Options

[The Wolf]

Hecerilar, the altmer hunter, sat on a bar stool. He was in a bar called 'Broken Sword', in western parts of Skyrim. It had been tough to get there, but he had finally made it. He was here to hunt the wolves.

Suddenly he realized, that he was surrounded by nords. As he sipped his mead, one of them spoke.

"What's this 'ere, a lonely elf in the land of frost? Feeling a bit... chilly, eh?" First the nord seemed offencive, but then, suddenly, he smiled warmly, and patted the altmer's back.

"Sorry about that." Quick exchange of glances between the nords. "You look like a good huntsman. Have you heard of the great Snow Wolf that lurks up the hills? We've seen sometimes it's tracks, which are huge, but we haven't found it nor seen it."

There was something strange going on here, Hecerilar knew, but he already could picture the beast's pelt as his helmet. It was far too great temptetion for him. He remained silent.

"Afraid, elf?" the nord mocked. "Don't go, elf." He whispered that, suddenly looking him with a strange look in his eyes. Was it pity, remorse? "Some others have done that, but have never returned."

Hecerilar just laughed.


*****

To Be Continued.....

[The Wolf]

Hecerilar, the altmer hunter, sat on a bar stool. He was in a bar called 'Broken Sword', in western parts of Skyrim. It had been tough to get there, but he had finally made it. He was here to hunt the wolves.

Suddenly he realized, that he was surrounded by nords. As he sipped his mead, one of them spoke.

"What's this 'ere, a lonely elf in the land of frost? Feeling a bit... chilly, eh?" First the nord seemed offencive, but then, suddenly, he smiled warmly, and patted the altmer's back.

"Sorry about that." Quick exchange of glances between the nords. "You look like a good huntsman. Have you heard of the great Snow Wolf that lurks up the hills? We've seen sometimes it's tracks, which are huge, but we haven't found it nor seen it."

There was something strange going on here, Hecerilar knew, but he already could picture the beast's pelt as his helmet. It was far too great temptetion for him. He remained silent.

"Afraid, elf?" the nord mocked. "Don't go, elf." He whispered that, suddenly looking him with a strange look in his eyes. Was it pity, remorse? "Some others have done that, but have never returned."

Hecerilar just laughed, gulped his drink down and entered the woods.

Night was starting to fall. The last rays of sunlight lighted the hills ahead of him. His breath came out as big white clouds, as Hecerilar started to jog forward. Frost draw it's pictures to the hunter's clothes.

*****

Finally he found some tracks. They looked like ones left by wolf's paw, but there were something strange about them. First of all, they were huge.

But as he studied them closely, he shivered. Now he noticed the thing that had bothered him in the first place. The beast that had left those tracks, was not walking with four paws. It had runned with two.

And he realized, that one thing had changed. He was no longer the hunter, but the hunted.

For those tracks could've been left only by one creature... A werewolf.

Hecerilar got up, and took last long look at the track. He stared into the darkness, face expressionless. He calculated his chances. He had a bow, some iron arrows and a steel shortsword. No silver with him, except a few jewelry. He swore silently. This was not his fight. He turned back to the route he had come.

Suddenly, a lone howl erupted from the woods in front of him. His eyes went wide, and his nostrils flared.

A second howl, this time from his left. Then a third howl joined the choir from his right side. This wasn't just a lone werewolf. Then it became silent. And then, at least dozen howls filled the night. There was only one direction to go to. The tracks of the werewolf...

He started to run.


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Here it is as in one piece. For now on, the posts won't come so often, but they will be longer. (If there's enough tale left to tell, this wasn't originally meant to be long)