The Wobbly Goblet Playground Options

[King Coin]

Abiene gave her a quick and excited hug. Aravi smiled and thought shouldn’t I be hugging her?

The healer had a lot to say on the subject and Aravi listened. When she seemed to be done, Aravi spoke up.

“I want this. And I know this isn’t something simple. If you need to discuss this with Darnand then do it. And if you need his help… then I don’t see any other choice.” She knew she would be nervous anyways, and modesty would be the least of her concerns. Still, the thought of Darnand seeing her like that…

She wants a year. Seems so long, and yet so close!

“If this works, and I become pregnant, would I need to stay in Chorrol? Oh and what were you saying about soul gems?”

[Grits]

Abiene

“If this works, and I become pregnant…” The hope in Aravi’s voice brought longing back to Abiene’s heart. One of many paths not taken.

“I hope in a year’s time I’ll still be in Chorrol,” Abiene said. “I’ve been ordered away from the chapel for a week. But my troubles can wait.” Abiene passed a hand over her eyes.

“When the time is right we will go forward with the full expectation of a healthy pregnancy and delivery. That said, I would move mountains to see this through with you. Or rather move over mountains. Let us see where each of us is when the happy news comes. Then we’ll make our plans.”

When the time is right. Abiene knew some about the ja-Kha'jay, but much more study would be needed. Khajiit cycles and forms were influenced by the moons in a way unlike any other race. She wondered if Khajiiti mothers tried to choose the form their child would take by timing the pregnancy. It might be common practice, or the very notion could be offensive. This was not the time to ask.

Aravi’s lycanthropy might also be a factor. That would require even more cautious inquiry.

She pressed Aravi’s hand with hers. “About the soul gems. I’ll need them for some of the experiments. It will take some time before I’m ready for that part, though. And of course we’ll want extras on hand for your treatments, just in case.”

[Darkness Eternal]

Irvana liked the words Kayla threw her way. Less imposing than others, she reflected. She was inclined to agree with that statement. Many who walked with her always were impressed and curious about her with an array of questions that were spoken behind her back and to her; That Irvana always walks with bodyguards. She's rich, why she can't afford a proper lesson in fighting? If she has two swords why does she bother wielding them if she is so terrible? She's too shy for politics, why does she walk in the Imperial Palace anyway? She's intelligent for a woman her age but why does it seem she lives a double life?

It was true, she certainly did not threat others or try to impose on them anything and she wouldn't dare raise a sword to anyone in just any circumstance. That is the folly of the young and proud . . .

She preffered the quiet life, the simple things or at least the shadow of such. To live a life like those imposing would be problematic and a concept she wasn't willing to adopt.

Irvana exhaled deeply, and grabbed Kayla's hand. "Come, come, I will show you the town. It has been years since I've been here but I still remember a few things. So much has changed since the Oblivion Crisis."

This post has been edited by Darkness Eternal: Aug 2 2013, 12:53 PM

[King Coin]

Abiene didn’t directly answer her question about needing to monitor her pregnancy. It sounds like a ‘yes’ though. She felt comforted in the fact that if it does happen she will have help.

I wonder what Kharjo is going to think of this. She winced in her mind, she didn’t consult with him at all about this. He’ll understand.

The question on the soul gems was clearer. “I will get the soul gems that you need when the time comes.”

She leaned forward and hugged the healer tightly. “Thank you so much for doing this for me,” she said.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Kayla willingly followed Irvana.

[Grits]

Abiene

Aravi’s strong arms wrapped around her in a warm hug. Abiene’s heart filled with hope and her own gratitude. She squeezed back, Aravi’s cheek soft as velvet against hers.

“I’ll keep trying to reach Darnand about the map,” Abiene said as they separated. “Thank you for your trust in him. I’d like wait to explain your situation to him in person, if that’s all right with you. I have to admit sometimes when I’m tired I don’t get my message through the crystal very well.”

Abiene rose to her feet, rubbing her palms on her leather trousers.

[Darkness Eternal]

As Irvana laed Kayla through town, showing her the history and some of the to-go-places, and during their strides through Chorrol. Though Irvana had plenty on her mind, there was one thing that she needed to know and that was the location of the map and why was it worth something to the vampires. This was her responsibility and while the vampire hunters can search the location, Irvana had to first grasp the knowledge of what they would be dealing with to consider if its worth going alone or not.

Her mind wandered from possible underground cattle cells to an subterranean vampiric nest. If they are spreading, they must be destroyed once and for all lest they spread their parasitic disease over to the local farms and settlements and that simply, simply will not do.

This time, Irvana reflected, I'll pay a visit to them myself.

In fact, she seldom ever ventured out beyond her castle or the Imperial City or towns to go into caverns. As a woman of her station and status she could not be seen, let alone even suspected of going out gallivanting into forts and dungeons. Her brother took on the more confrontational tasks and was much more "adventurous". She always preffered sitting in a comfortable place. But he is not around and it is up to her to do something about it. Or, she thought, Kayla and Aravi could be sent into the fray once more. Aravi has many years of experience, and her ferocity is no mystery even to Irvana. Kayla has Dawnbreaker, and despite her slights she still had the favor of a Daedric Prince. That enough was indication of her capabilities. They can do their job.

"Kayla," Irvana began. "You mentioned you did not remember anything from that map? Not even a hint of it?"

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Why on Nirn is she so curious about a damned map?

"Nothing. It was dark, and we were in a bit of a hurry. Once we got back to the Goblet, all of us were too tired to care about the map. I plan on looking at it again tonight, but that's if I don't fall asleep early tonight."

I won't.

In fact, I might end up staying up late again.

Kayla smiled at Irvana. She'd most likely end up patrolling the area tonight, if only to make sure nothing had slipped by them in the cave.

"If you remind me later tonight, I'll give you the map so you can look at it. Aravi has a friend she's trying to get ahold of to look at the map. Maybe you two can look at it together?"

She grinned inwardly. She remembered the cute little bow Darnand had given her when they first met. No one had ever bowed to her before, not even out of sheer politeness. Darnand was probably the first man to not clap her on her back or give her a death grip shaking her hand.

It was nice.

She shook herself from the memory and took a deep breath.

"Is there any other spots I should know about?"

[King Coin]

Aravi looked up at the healer and nodded. She had no idea how long this would be for Darnand to come to Chorrol. Abiene has been unable to contact him.

I really don’t have a reason to stay around here now. Even after she discusses this with Darnand, she said it could be a year before she is ready to heal me. With that she decided.

“I am going to pack for Skyrim,” she said. “Unless there is anything you need me to do now. I understood that the soul gems could wait.” She told Abiene where to send a letter. Hopefully it won’t take too long for a letter to reach her.

She stood up. She didn’t have much that needed packing. Her armor and clothes would need to be washed before she left.

[Grits]

Abiene

Abiene nodded. “The gems can wait.” She felt a sense of loss already, but Aravi’s life was in Skyrim along with her mate. I never even asked about him. “I’ll keep you informed of our progress. Darnand will be sorry he missed you. But for all I know he’s in Skyrim right now. You may yet see him before I do.”

The two women shared another tight hug and spoke their farewells. Abiene turned back briefly at the door for a last glance and a smile. My dear friend, I hope I have good news for you soon.

Abiene finished her business at the inn. Within a few moments she was out the door.

[mALX]

*

Honditar:


The Proprieter Bograk looked down her nose at the filthy huntsman carrying in a half dressed inanimate girl and demanding a room; telling him to take his business to the Gray Mare till Eyja popped up beside him and smoothed her ruffled feathers.

"Is Lleris better? I sent the healer in before we left. Your horse and the two I rented from your friends are back in the stables. As you see, I found my friend; but she is injured. We will need a few rooms if you have them available." She gave her a hopeful look.

Bograk shook her head, then paused. "The suite is available, only three beds; but two of them are doubles. It's very roomy, and has its own private bath. There is a full kitchen with a separate entrance for two of the rooms, or you can come through the third room. It opens to the upstairs over the tavern." She pointed a finger toward the ceiling.

"We'll take it, and thank you." Eyja gave her a warm smile. "And Lleris, does he fair well?"

The Orc woman beamed. "Your potion and the healer's visit set him to rights. You are kind to enquire after him. Tell you what, I'll let you have the suite at a discount, say ten percent?"

Eyja thanked her and paid, taking the three keys and directions to the suite. She let Honditar lead the way carrying Maxical till they got to the right room, then stepped in front of him with the key to open it.

Eyja stopped Honditar from laying Maxical down in the room's bed. "Don't lay her down here. This room is too small, and right off the main hall so all the tavern noise can be clearly heard. Let her have a bed in the suite."

She took the second key and opened the door into the suite, searching till she found a large double bed upstairs. Honditar followed, carrying the sleeping Khajiit. The girl was tiny, but one could only carry so far before their arms went numb. His were. He was tired, and grateful to be able to put her down when Eyja pointed at the bed.

He gladly unloaded her travel pack beside the bed as well, not sure what she could possibly have in it to weigh that much; nor how she could carry it herself, with her small size.

"She must be strong as an ox to carry that pack." He showed Eyja where he'd set it. "Do you want me to wait with you till the healer gets in?"

Eyja fidgeted, looking at the pale inanimate form of Maxical. She finally shook her head no. "No, we should be fine. Abiene probably just stopped for a bath and to get fresh clothes, don't you think? Seth may be back soon too."

Eyja leaned against him in an exhausted hug. "Thank you for everything, Honditar. You have been the greatest help and comfort through this."

Honditar held her tightly to his chest. "Aye, anything for you, me darlin'"

"I love it when you do that pirate imitation." Eyja kissed him, then used the third key to open the separate entrance and let him out.

"You lock this door behind me, I've seen drunks back behind this inn." Honditar waited till he heard the click before he cut over the hill bypassing the old ruin to the road outside Chorrol. His nose wrinkled as he passed the ruin, a smell like decaying flesh clung to that site.



*

Eyja:


The room was directly next door to Seth's, but much smaller than the room he had rented. On the other hand, the suite was bigger than her own apartment in the Imperial City.

Eyja noticed the suite's back entrance let out into the back of the inn, and was directly below Seth's room window. She could look out her door or windows and see the site they buried that assassin. Eyja shook it off and turned the key in the lock. Honditar was right about the drunks behind the inn, she'd seen one herself back there peeing on the wall.

Eyja bathed herself first, then pulled Honditar's heavy shirt off Maxical and sponge cleaned her; carefully avoiding her stomach area. She wished Abiene or Seth would hurry, Maxical needed healing again. Instead of clothing, Eyja covered her loosely with the clean cotton sheet and a blanket; then lay beside her and fell into an exhausted sleep to the sound of a dog barking off in the distance.



*





This post has been edited by mALX: Aug 4 2013, 08:08 AM

[King Coin]

Aravi was satisfied everything was clean. She stripped out of her robe and stuffed it into her travel pack. Her armor went on easily. Her swords went on her hips and the quiver and bow hung from her right shoulder.

She left the inn and stood outside near the road. She looked back at the inn. She was glad of the sudden downpour that made her seek shelter here. She wished to stay longer, but she needed to return to Skyrim. Kharjo was there, and she needed to speak to him.

An easy breeze passed over her from the north. The sun shone brightly. She guessed it to be around noon. Lots of time to get started north.

A final look at the inn before she started walking at an easy pace. I’ll be back someday.

[Darkness Eternal]

“You are an irresponsible coward,” the old man at last spoke after what seemed like an hour of standing there. “A coward who knows not his destiny.”

I'm not a coward! Lycus thought. There was no point in voicing the words aloud; the hallucination was all in his mind. Speaking with it would only be a sign that his mental condition was further deteriorating. A piece of Oblivion rubbed off once more in his mind and Lycus knew he hadn’t summoned any spirits into Nirn . . .

Or did I?

“I but asked one simple task. One simple quest and you failed. You’re an impossible man. You fought the perils of the arena, slew beasts that would devour men whole, survived the Wild Hunt in His Realm all for what . . . to squander this gift with your stagnation?”

Lycus was growing weary of those words. He'd had this conversation with himself after he obtained his Lycanthropy and now he was experiencing it again and again through the delusions of his wounded mind. Yet now he refused to allow any doubts or uncertainties to cloud his mind; there is still time to complete that task. That special quest that he vowed one day would see realized.

“You stain the name.”

I am more than the man I once was, old man, Lycus thought calmly. I hold wisdom of centuries. Your mockery is wasted on me.

“If that was true,” the apparition countered, answering his unspoken arguments, "then how do you explain your life now? Your claim to have set upon the task you know you must do yet I am the only who constantly reminds you what is at stake."

You didn't need to remind me of anything. You’re just a hallucination.

“Excuses and justifications,” the old spirit replied. “You were once a fine warrior. But now you would rather retreat into a cave and not preserve the Castius legacy."

Lycus gritted his teeth as fresh pain was pumped into his skull, forcing him to clasp the sides of his head with such force that his knuckles turned white.

“You’re an irresponsible man. More so, you are a coward.”

Lycus swore under his breath, doing his best to ignore the ramblings of the spirit conjured by his head. How many times had he heard this exact conversation with himself in the past day? Twenty? Thirty? Fifty times?

The pain only intensified and blood continued to pour from his nose down to his beard.

“If you do not set upon the task you will fail to continue the legacy and you will bring shame to the bloodline. It is your responsibility! You will be haunted for the rest of your days. Your past deeds will not excuse your present guilt.”

“Silence!” Lycus screamed, no longer able to contain his rage. “You do not exist in this realm anymore, old man!”

He lashed out at the spirit by the door with his own body, determined to push the offending vision into oblivion. The old man did vanish, but Lycus’ victory was short-lived when he collided with the door and out into hall. Splinters flew and the door swung aside and broke off its hinges. The Imperial hunter fell to the floor with every growing agonizing pain.

He wheezed and coughed out loud and rolled to the side. He lifted his hand to heal himself but all of his strength was sapped, and his consciousness fled soon after.

[Darkness Eternal]

"I will be sure to remind you," Irvana said after awhile. "I am only concerned. If you did not get all of them, if there are more out there, I worry about the people. I want to protect them from those creatures in any way possible." She said with force. "I would be honored to aid you two in bringing down those nosferatu if there are more."

And slaughter them all before they can spread their infectious disease . . .

Irvana walked on with Kayla until she asked if there were any spots of interest. Irvana regarded the high elf woman with a look, and wrinkled her nose in an act of uncertainty. "Well, nothing that is comparable to the likes of Bruma, I''m afraid. The Grey Mare is owned by a Nord. Perhaps you feel more welcome there? I am certain they have dishes from the north. Emfrid makes some quality food."

Irvana then thought about how much she liked the dish of the north. Not like the cuisine from Orsinium which are mostly rich and brothy. There was something distinct about her Nordic meals that she couldn't compare it to any other plate. Paradise for the tongue . . .

[Grits]

Abiene, mid-night

Abiene woke to light in her eyes. Riad stood over her holding a candlestick. The door to the hallway stood open.

“Wake up,” he growled.

Abiene blinked at him. “Yes?”

Riad gripped her upper arm and boosted her from the bed. “You’ve sickened another guest with your disease. He’s tearing the inn apart in his fever. Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Abiene looked over her shoulder at the door that led to the suite. It was still closed. She pulled her chamber door shut as they passed into the corridor.

Dar’muktah stood in the hall lifting a massive door slab back into place. Splinters of wood floated up from the floor and fitted themselves together around the broken frame under Hethilion’s spell. These doors must be Muffled or we would have a crowd of guests out here, she thought. Both men glared as Riad escorted her past and into the guest chamber.

Bograk was dragging an unconscious man across the floor. Riad let go of Abiene and helped the orc sling him onto the bed.

Lycus, Abiene realized.

Riad jabbed a finger at Abiene as he stalked back out into the corridor. “Fix this.”

Bograk looked annoyed, but it was difficult to tell with an orc. She started after Riad.

“Wait!” Abiene called to them. “What happened? Where is the blonde woman? Could you just—”

The door closed behind Bograk. Small noises from the hallway told Abiene that they were cleaning up the mess.

Lycus lay running with sweat, blood trickling from his nose and ears. His breathing sounded painful.

Abiene quickly sat on the bed’s edge, casting the spells that prepared her for a healing. Then she reached out to begin identifying the source of his distress.

Her discovery made her snatch her hands away in shock. He’s a lycanthrope! Her pulse pounded in surprise, but her thoughts remained calm. This man could break her in half in his mortal form, so there was no use fearing what he could do as a beast. She would be just as dead either way.

Abiene took his hand in hers, beginning the spell again. He was certainly not ill, though she would tell the inn staff that he had been cured of a fever as an explanation. His high body temperature somehow seemed normal. She healed the broken blood vessels around his sinuses and brain, but then she stopped to consider.

His blood was strange to her. Had he ingested something to cause such a fit? Or perhaps it was the Daedric influence. She glanced around the room, hoping to see a clue.

[Grits]

Abiene, continued

This guest chamber was much larger than hers had been. Abiene glanced over the arming racks and travel clutter looking for clues. She could smell something acrid under the odors of vomit, sweat, and urine. Abiene was not bothered by anything a body could expel, but the hint of smoke was concerning. What had he been doing?

Her eyes fell on a drum standing next to a statuette. Of course, Hircine. An offering bowl sat before it. She tasted the ash but didn’t experience a reaction. Was he Void-walking? By himself? The thought made her shudder. Abiene was an inexperienced mystic. If his soul wandered the planes of Oblivion she would not be able to reach him.

But she could treat his body. Abiene sorted through items that had been thrown to the floor, no doubt in the course of whatever fit had sent Lycus crashing through the door. She found no drugs or poisons, only bundles of herbs, leaves, and petals. Sage was easily identified, and the tiny buds of pale lavender. She picked up a large, dried flower petal. Its rich purple color seemed to glow in the candlelight, as vivid dry as it would have been growing. She remembered that color from an illustrated book of Herbalism. A rare flower that bloomed in the snow on the highest mountain peaks. Wolfsbane.

Abiene knew little about lycanthropy, but it was known that Wolfsbane was fatal to werewolves. Had he ingested it accidentally in a daze, trying to recover from a trip through the Void? Perhaps he used it in some potion that aided his Hircine worship, or even burned it as an offering and then inhaled the smoke. It was likely that he was suffering from poison.

A long, rattling sigh came from the bed. Then silence.

Abiene scrambled back to Lycus’ side, her analysis of the situation suddenly secondary. Lycus’ heart barely fluttered under her hands. He wasn’t breathing.

She tipped his head back and covered his mouth with hers, strengthening his pulse with her spell as she breathed for him. One hand pinched his nostrils closed to force the air into his lungs. The other kept the contact that allowed healing light to flow into him.

His life’s energy had all but departed.

Abiene had walked far down the path to the Dreamsleeve in her time at the Arcane University, hidden away in forgotten chambers where her dangerous experiments would not be discovered. Her foolishness had nearly been the end of her, but now she knew part of the mystery. The soft song of pure light calling her spirit home. The relief of all suffering slipping away as the concerns of her mortal life were lifted from her. Once a soul began its journey it was all but impossible to tear it back to this realm, and doing so was not always the right course. Abiene fought death as if it was an enemy. She had to nearly experience it herself to accept that it was once in each mortal’s life simply a passage to the next state of being.

But not this time, not for this otherwise strong and healthy man. Not while she had the strength and will to stop it. If Lycus had intentionally tried to kill himself with Wolfsbane, he would just have to try again.

Abiene sent a spell through his blood to fight the Wolfsbane. She felt his heartbeat strengthen as the poison lost its grip over him. Damaged vessels closed, and the pressure eased inside his skull. But she could not call him back from the Dreamsleeve’s beacon. His soul did not walk that path.

Time lost its meaning as Abiene drifted in her healer’s trance. Her pulse became one with her patient’s. His chest rose and fell with her breathing.

She returned to herself feeling empty, her magicka spent. Lycus breathed on his own. His heart beat slow and steady again, and his body held the tension of animal strength.

Abiene brushed tangled hair out of the way and placed her palm against his cheek. “It’s up to you now,” she murmured. “Lycus. Wake up.”

[Darkness Eternal]

Death wasn't at what Lycus expected. He was aware of it, in a way, even if that conscious was of a dark, nebulous sort. His consciousness went and returned in waves, floating here and there in unfathomable tides. He sank and surfaced at the whim of powers he knew he would one day see. All he could do was ride with them and hope that death wouldn't be like this forever. But he knew.

There was a surprising amount of pain in his body, considering that it was being damaged from the inside. He felt as if he was lurking at the precipice of his consciousness like a reminder of something important he had left behind. Was this some kind of punishment for the actions he had performed during his life? Were the countless people he killed and even devoured getting their revenge from a more privileged position in the afterlife?

This is nonsense, he told himself. While there is payment for many bloody deeds, his eternity is paradise. To hunt at the master’s side forever in an unending hunt. As a Nord spends eons in Sovngarde, a moon-born warrior of the wild is given honor when serving their Lord after a lifetime of living as a beast. This pain he felt was only temporary.

And then it all changed. Dying, Lycus observed with mild surprise that death was turning out to be not only peasant, but wonderful.

So, even as he lay gasping around the what felt like barbs piercing his lung, the soul of Lycus smiled. Even with the fighting and rattling in his body's last reflexive rebellion against the coming of eternity, even as his organs began to shut down one by one to maintain the final pieces of light and life within the vast and large intricacies of his mind, Lycus never imagined he would feel this way.

He felt as if he were falling in all directions, into a black hole that exploded with stars. The Wobbly Goblet was no more. He was not in the floor of the hall near a shattered door. He was not in a tavern. He was nowhere in Nirn. He was standing in a canyon where he saw a vague silheoute of a man with branching horns of a stag and a spear in his hand. And a great wolf at his side and an old man . . . all images he recognized, for he had been here before.

His own death was once foretold, entirely inevitable, and it would be the end of his legend. His fate was certain.... but Lycus began to suspect. Suspect that this wasn’t how he was supposed to die. This wasn’t how he was meant to fall.

“By the sword you have lived, and by the sword you shall fall.” Words spoken to him foretold.

And with that new consciousness beyond death came the very thing Lycus was troubled with all of his life; doubt. I failed, he thought as he dared to take a step forward. I failed to bring an heir of the legacy into this world. I failed to raise a child . . . I failed to become a loving father I once promised myself and my wife to be.

And now he would chase prey forever. Unless . . .

Lycus turned back and felt somehow, impossible at is seemed, that he had a choice to return. A choice . . .

He was never good with choices. Most were taken from him, and the ones he made in life simply resulted in the death of others or the death of aspects of himself and as he did forward he dared to step back.

No, now is not the time, he thought. Not yet. Not yet. My woman needs me, my child will need me. And he felt it, clear as crystal and yet obscure as shadow. He felt that he could return, that his own body, as strange as it felt, was calling to him saying: You can come back.

And so Lycus did, and as he did the wolf in the horizon snarled and chased him, surely saying: You belong to this realm now. You are part of the pack. There can be no going back.

Lycus did not care. He had all eternity to be part of this pack, but he had a lifetime to be part of a family. And he wasn’t ready to die just yet.

The wolf bit at his heel and the soul of Lycus turned and kicked, and he was being dragged away by the power of this lupine spirit. Lycus fought against the beast, his own companion. The battle went on and during this fight a voice came from somewhere, but he did not know where. He could hear it from beyond, loud and clear.

“It’s up to you now,” a voice murmured. “Lycus. Wake up.”

He crawled and ran and stumbled into nothing but into something. A light, perhaps? A portal? A door to another dimension? Another realm?

Or my body?

Lycus dashed through the light and fell and rose and tumbled in all directions as he felt lighter as if was floating now. Bright illumination entered his vision and the wolf was gone, the red moon and the forest were no more and Hircine and the old man were not in sight.

It came as less of a surprise and more of a relief when he finally awoke. His first clue that he had come back from the dead came when darkness truly fell. The sights evaporated, and the voices and snarls with them. For a very peaceful period, there was nothing to see or hear, or even smell.

Then the veil of shadow was lifted and Lycus opened his eyes. He could breathe now, but as he did before he died. There still was the sense of confusion and bewilderment, and there was a loud sound of a heart thumping within one’s chest and it wasn’t his own.

The blur dissipated and a figure standing over Lycus became more clear. He saw her with clarity now. For a moment he did not recognize her, as if she was someone who came and went. An acquaintance or less until the memory of her returned as his vision.

The healer. Abiene.

“Woman,” Lycus said softly. There was no aggression here, no malice or even hate. “What have you done to me?”

[Grits]

Abiene

Lycus’ eyelids twitched and fluttered as he slowly regained consciousness. Abiene moved back slightly, still within his vision but no longer crouched over him.

His return from death would be a kind of re-birth, one that he would remember with heightened clarity. Abiene recalled her own experience, the visions and insights that had come with her awakening. She didn’t want to intrude upon whatever understanding Lycus’ wandering soul had discovered.

He opened his eyes, amber in the candlelight. His voice was quiet. “Woman. What have you done to me?”

Abiene replied in her softest tone, unwilling to break his calm with too many words. “You were dying. I heard your last breath. Though I healed your body, it was you who returned to it.”

Her mind boiled with questions, but this was not the time. So she waited.

[Darkness Eternal]

Lycus grunted as he summoned all of his strength to sit up in the bed and after much effort he swung his feet to the sides and flexed his toes on the floor. The putrid scent of vomit and other liquid mixed with the smell of burnt herbs still lingered. He realized that he unwillingly exposed what he had been doing and worst even was the small statue of Hircine not four feet from him and the woman.

Worshiping Hircine did not mean one was a Lycanthrope. Many people revered the Daedric Prince of the hunt for what he represented. Either for sport or survival or because they knew nothing else than hunting as a lifestyle. Many, many years ago he was still human when he worshiped Hircine.

Their reputation over the years had become something of a sour fame, especially after the Oblivion crisis produced factions of anti-daedric warriors and mages with an intense hatred of the supernatural. Anything related to Hircine would be pointed to werewolves or the sort. Lycus couldn't begin to count how many unfortunate souls who respected the Daedric prince and paid tribute to him in the wild were stoned or hung.

He looked at Abiene and decided, for that moment, that she had no malevolent intent against him. Otherwise he would be dead now.

He thought of the wolfsbane and the foolish notion that it could be ingested and inhaled without the negative and fatal side effects it could pose to his body. In any case, it was a lesson learned.

"You have my gratitude," he said. The words were faint, his voice still raw and ragged. He never liked being tended to like he was some child. Being at the mercy of others always made him feel somewhat bad, but he couldn't allow that to bitter his feelings for the healer. He was thankful for her aid, despite not knowing much about her. He also wondered why a woman would help another man she hardly knew. His sword, armor and perhaps even his demeanour did not warrant such charity. If she only knew what he had done, and what he is, would she still had saved him?

He let out a long exhale and craned his neck from side to side to crack it. He stood to his full height. To anyone else seeing him, he was two meters tall, and his powefully muscled frame seemed to reflect off of the light. It did not take awhile for him to notice that he was still shirtless and without much of his clothes, but that did not embarrass him.

His tanned hair-covered chest had many scars beneath them, fresh scars and old scars acquired after his first transformation and rebirth in his younger years.

He felt better, nay, he felt remarkably well. She had done her work wonderfully. His insides felt new and improved, he felt rejuvinated and empowered much like his mornings after a succesful nightly hunt. He wiped the smudge of blood around his nostrils and licked his lips and felt . . . something different? It tasted unlike anything he'd eaten or touched upon with his mouth. He gave Abiene a look of uncertainty.

What had she done to me while I was unconscious?

He suspected she may have used a healing spell to support his breathing with her own. It was something he had seen before with the ashlanders in Morrowind. But there was something else there, attraction perhaps? He did not ponder too much on that, his mind was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that he nearly was gone forever.

Aside from feeling hungry and thirsty, Lycus felt the need to stretch but he did not. Instead he stood there towering above Abiene. He had a savage look about him despite being healed. The beard below his chin and the hair around his mouth, adding to the long unkempt hair that fell past his shoulders gave him a rugged look of a man who had lived in the wilderness for years. This he knew.

What Lycus did not know was that a simple turn of his head, and the light of the torchlight nearby had lit his eyes. His pupils glowed quickly as if they were twin suns rather than human eyes.

"If you desire payment, I will see to it that it is given," Lycus said to her again, turning away to scavange what he could from the wardrobe. There was nothing inside but a used and tattered pants. He unfolded them, slipped his legs in them and pulled them up. They felt small and tight, much that he struggled to bring them up to his waist. "You saved my life. The least I can offer to you is coin."

This post has been edited by Darkness Eternal: Aug 6 2013, 02:59 AM

[Grits]

Abiene

“You have my gratitude,” he said.

Abiene gave him a small nod of acknowledgement as Lycus climbed to his feet. He cracked his neck bones and seemed to be internally assessing himself. Then he touched his lips and looked down at her with a thoughtful expression. Not hostile but far from friendly.

It occurred to Abiene that he might have been asking if she used a potion or spell. A potion was anonymous and would have betrayed no secrets. She wondered if he knew that she discovered his lycanthropy at her first touch.

Too late to lie about it, she thought. Her pulse was already pounding in her throat.

The torchlight flared in his eyes as he turned away to dress. “If you desire payment, I will see to it that it is given,” he said. “You saved my life. The least I can offer to you is coin.”

Abiene took a steadying breath. “I healed you without your leave and with no expectation of payment. I would do the same again regardless of tonight’s outcome. If you wish to pay me I would have you return my favor but not to me. I do not ask you to save someone’s life without judgment, for that is no small thing and not what one should ask of a stranger. Only that when you next see a need but have no obligation you might act to another’s benefit.”

There were no tales of gentle werewolves in Abiene’s experience. She hoped that Lycus would not respond to her suggestion by scooping out her entrails.

“In saving your life I do not know what I have done for good or ill,” she said. “I saw a need, and I filled it.”