Cold...Everything's so cold. My eyes burst open, and my hand shot to a weapon that didn't exist. My body was saturated with sweat, yet I was shivering like a wet dog. That's because you are a dog. Right... I realized that I was still in the lycans' cave- in my cave- but it seemed that no one was home. The usual ruckuss and rioting that went on in the halls of this bleak hole in the earth had fallen silent. Now it was only me and my frantic imagination left to wander.
Footsteps! Quite instinctively, I cocked my head into the air and started sniffing madly, searching for any trace of my unknown visitor. I felt like an idiot, sure, but it worked. It was another lycan, thankfully. Still, I was terrified at the prospect of being visited by one of the rougher of the lot, like Jyral. Surely ol' Jyral wouldn't have any qualms about tearing through my 'fragile' self.
Kerric entered the door to my left, dragging along a pale corpse. I bolted off of my makeshift bed and looked curiously at the carcass. "This," he muttered bitterly, "is the enemy." He dropped the body and kicked it over so it lay on its back. The eyes were swollen and white. The mouth was stretched open to reveal a row of perfect teeth- marred only by two fangs.
"It's a... vampire?" I asked nervously.
"No, you idiot! It's a dwarf!" he snapped. "And this dwarf sprouted fangs, and developed a very acrobatic pair of legs, and decimated several of our brothers!" I lowered my eyes, suddenly ashamed of speaking like such a fool. He does have a point. Not many dwarves have fangs like that. "No it's time for your initiation, kid. Are you ready to be accepted into our ranks with open arms?"
I looked back up at Kerric, trying to hold his steely-eyed glare. 'No' probably wasn't the right answer. "Yeah, I'm ready. What do I do?"
"Curiously enough, that's what I was plannin' on telling you!" Kerric's attitude was really starting to bother me. "You're the newest of us. For that reason alone, most vampires don't recognize you as a werewolf. Your scent," he gingerly tapped his nose, "is not strong enough-yet. That's why you're going to Anvil to hunt down a rogue vampire."
"A rogue vampire?"
"By the Nine! Is there an echo in the room, or are you just repeating everthing I say! Yes, a rogue vampire. A rogue doesn't live by the rules of the other clans. He makes his own way throughout immortality. Yet, he still ravages the ranks of us lycans. So, we are sending you after one in particular. Name is Philipe."
"When do I leave?"
"Not so fast. Philipe is a well known member of Anvil. You can't just walk up to him and tear his head off. You have to watch him carefully. Observe his habits. Figure out where and when you can get to him alone. Even then, he's a powerful little beast, so watch your back. You leave right now. You'll be traveling on foot to Kvatch, and you can arrange pasage from there by wagon. And- one last thing- I have a ring for you. Sort of an initiation gift. It is one of the many artifacts that transforms the wearer to a werewolf at will. You will need it. Also, it supresses your tendencies to change during a full moon, so you needn't worry about that."
I nodded, and scurried out of the cave, almost excited for my new mission. Sure, it was still as bad as Oblivion itself being what I was, but maybe, just maybe, I was warming up to the facts. Outside of my cave, the sun seemed to be brighter than ever.
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