Inheritance Chapter Three Options

[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.

[milanius]

I've read a little part (the beginning, actually) and I like the idea of an Argonian werevolf - very exotic... the language and form seems to be decent (read: I LIKE IT ), so keep up the good work.