D.K.R. Year 3 Omega Part 4 Tale of the Wolf

  • Drujeeta looked from her children to the throne, upon the throne sat Sheogorath. Drujeeta advanced upon the throne like a

    mad dog. Drujeeta's eyes were on fire as she stared at the prince of madness like he murdered one of her children. "What the

    hell were you playing at Sheogorath?" Sheogorath just sat there grinning like an idiot. "Well? Say something you damn fool!"


    After minutes of silence, he spoke, clearly amused by the lizard's dumbstruck expression,

    "Poor deluded mortal, haven't you figured it out yet? I'm Sheogorath, the prince of madness? Ring any bells?"


    Drujeeta interrupted him, jabbbing a clawed finger in his chest, forcing him back "Listen 'prince of maddness' I don't give a damn

    who you are and what in Oblivion you do, but why in the hunting grounds do you torment mortals? Do you like it funny? does it

    amuse you?" She asked, her temper slowly rising like a tide 


    Sheogorath eyed her with utter contempt while walking around her like a hawk circling its prey

    "Well, little Argonian, it's in the title, isn't it?" He said laughing, much to Drujeeta''s displeasure


    He stroked his grey beard as he thought of something,

    "Do you know what happens to mortals who make me angry?"


    Drujeeta shook her head, she hadn't the foggiest. Sheogorath sat back down at his throne and smiled while his cat-like eyes


    "They get sent to the hills of suicide and suffer a nasty 'accident'." To make his point clearer, he made the sound of a slide whistle

    followed by a sound of vocal flatulence.


    Drujeeta did not flinch at this nor did she turn away; she just stood there, looking at the grinning daedric lord. Thinking of

    something, she fixed the prince with a stern look,

    "Sheogorath, did you place a curse on my pack?" She asked, even though she did not know where the questioon had come from


    The madgod just sat there gawking at her,

    "Why mortal, what would give you that idea?" He asked


    Drujeeta shrugged and slowly sauntered toward his red and black throne,

    "Oh, I dunno, I seems like something you would do," She said, walking over to a wooden table by the throat and stabbing it with her

    dagger. "Just like trapping me in that hellish illusion." Sheogorath knew she was talking about the fake hunting grounds he had sent

    her to.


    She wrenched the dagger free and advanced on Sheogorath, smiling evily as her tail batted the air like a whip. The daedric lord did

    not cower behind his throne, instead he sat there in quiet comtemplation, 

    "So what if I did? It's not like your tiny, innsignificant mortal mind has the power to do anything about it."


    Drujeeta's forehead broke out in a cold sweat, she could feel the wolf prowling just beneath the surface of her mind; no matter how

    hard the beast hammered, she managed to kept it contained. Sheogorath got up from his throne and grabbed something that

    Drujeeta could smell but not see,

    "Careful little mortal, you wouldn't want your kids to suffer an accident, do you?" 


    As he led them out, she could see that Milsha and Tulen had collars around their necks-and not just any collars: silver collars. She

    managed to control the wolf inside her lest her two remaining children were harmed. Tulen, unlike Milsha, who was calm about this,

    transformed into his wolf form desperately trying to extricate himself from his sliver collar. Despite the burns the collar was giving

    him as it cut into his skin, he continued to fight against his bonds: he bit and clawed at the collar, but nothing worked. His head

    sagged as he admitted defeat.


    The daedric lord looked menacing at the Argonian while the 'prisoners' stood to the left of the throne. He told the Argonian that if

    she left go of her anger then he would release her children. Drujeeta groaned and begrudgingly agreed. Her body slackened as if it

    was releasing years of built up tension. She knew the daedric prince was toying with her as a wolf would with peice of meat. 


    She watched in fringht as Tulen,  or Tulen's wolf, kept clawing at the silver chains trying to get at Drujeeta. Red liquid squirted forth

    like a sprinkler from hiis neck where the collar cut in. Drujeeta began to cry and Sheogorath finally caved after five minutes of

    hearing the bawling argonian. He unlocked the two silver collars, much to Drujeeta's delight. Milsha ran to her mom bawling her

    eyes out as she poiinted to Ironclaw, her face a mask of shock.


    Ironclaw fell to the floor, bleeding from his neck; Drujeeta smelled the blood and ran to her son's side,

    "What have you done you bastard?" She yelled at the grinning daedric prince


    He just sat there and did nothing. The amber Argonian yelled in anguish at the prince once more. This time, the prince heard her

    and snappped his fingers lazily; the blood that flowed from Ironclaw's neck slowed and seconds later, stopped. It congealed, turning

    the same shade of red as his fur. He got to his four paws and rounded on the mad daedric prince; The daedric prince grabbed the

    wabbajack, hanging onn a hook within arm's reach of the throne-though he could have easy willed in into his hands-and pointed it

    att the iron-red wolf. The red wolf lunged for the grey three-faced staff whcih caused the the red beam of light that shot out of the

    wabbajack to hit the column tthat the female Argonian leaned against; she had to shield her face with her hands as rubble rained

    down upon her.


    Ironclaw was successful in his tug of war with the daedric prince. In a few moments, the wolf suceeded in prising the staff out of the

    mad god's grip and flung it; the staff spin across the floor, stopping only as it bumped into the pillar.


    Ironclaw gave one last cold glance at the daedric prince beofre he gave a loud howl and transformed back in his reptilian form.

    Drujeeta ran over to her son and wrapped his arms around him, 

    "Tulen, I thought you had died." She cocked her head at him, "H-how did you come here?" She asked as she looked him up and



    He told her that he was at the makeshift camp fifteen feet from the city of Balmora when he felt a strange sensation as the camp

    swam before him and seconds later, was replaced by the palace of New Sheoth. He turned and she saw two marble-sized fires

    burning in his eye sockets; he pointed to the daedric lord and snarled,

    "Not one second after I came here, that damned daedra caught me and forced me into... that," He pointed to the broken silver collar

    at his feet. "The stinking skeever must've jumped me when I was still getting oriented." 


    The dark green Argonian creased his forehead as he pondered on why Sheogorath would do such a thing; maybe he thought it was

    entertaining or amusing. Tulen's eyes went wide and as he had a rather unnerving thought Oh Hircine, what if he was working with

    another daedra? He glanced worldessly at his mother


    This took Drujeeta by surprise, She fumbled in her brain for an answer,

    "Well, erm, the hist trees dotting blackmarsh empregnate our species, it decides how and when we give birth."


    Drujeeta paused,

    "Except Juleen and I are not Hasir's birthparents, we were entrusted with the egg, this is true, but, his dad is of the bright-throat

    tribe in Murkmire."


    She stopped speaking for a moment and a sadness passed over her,

    "His mom died, traversing the treacherous waters to find us, gods rest her soul."


    she waved a hand dismissively in the air,

    "Anyway, during Hasir's procreational period, I must've gotten a small bit of Juleen's curse."


    She looked at her son with loving eyes,

    "There you have it, that is why I transformed into a werewolf." She smiled while giving Tuleen a hug.


    She bent lower to her children, who sat is a circle,

    "Who wants to hear how werewolves came to be?" 


    Three clawed hands pierced the air,

    "Well, okay then." She smiled, clapping her hands together


    Drujeeta cleared her throat and began her tale,

    “Long ago when Tamriel was but a rock floating through space, beings of immense power called daedra came into existence and

    helped form Mundus.” She looked at her kids’ confused looks. “That is what they call our world.” She added. Milsha was about to

    ask a question when his mother shushed him and told him not until after she finished her tale.


    “Anyway, when Tamriel was young, a primordial force known as the Et’a came into existence. The Et’a gave birth to the daedra,

    beings that originated from deep in a land known as Oblivion which is situated in the molten core of the planet.”


    Drujeeta saw that her kids were getting bored, so she cut to the chase. She skipped all the extraneous details.


    She cleared her throat once more.

    “Hircine is the daedra responsible for the werecreatures he gave birth to and wanted a place where they would feel at home, Think

    of it as a garden of eden."


    She paused, looked at the three small blank faces around her and then went down a new route with her thoughts,

    "Erm, think of it as a paradise where wolves will serve Hircine for enternity."


    Milsha's eyes teared up, 

    "Does that mean you not be joining with the other Argonian spirits?" 


    Drujeeta knelt down to quiet down the second youngest, who was nearly in tears, 

    "Sadly, I will not be joining them, I will either go to coldharbour or the hunting grounds when I die. Most likely, I will go to the

    hunting grounds to hunt forever alongside your father.


    The young argonian wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her blue dress,

    "Okay, that makes me feel a bit better, but, if as you say, daedric princes are bad, why does that make Hircine any different?"


    Drujeeta smiled warmly at Neesha,

    "Hircine is the father of manbeasts, if he were evil, I am sure that his wolves would sense it, we werewolves are good at leading

    with our noses." She punctuated this point by lightly touching her daughter on her nose. 


    Drujeeta's eyes suddenly misted over. The palace seemed to swin in front of her like a ripple in the water. The argonian saw, in her

    mind's eye, her son, fully grown, and beside him stood two wolves, one white with blue eyes and one black with yellow eyes,

    Drujeeta let own a loud gasp,

    "Oh Hircine, my nephew..." She backed into a pillar and slid down it.


    As she hit the floor with a soft 'THUD,' the palace came back into view, they ran over to her wearing shocked expressions on their



    Tuleen bent down to help his mother to her feet,

    "Mom, you gave us quite a scare, what happened? You were talking to Neesh and the next thing we know, you were slumped against

    a pillar." 


    Drujeeta began to open her mouth and then promptly shut it again. She could not tell her children about Hasir's fate, about his soul

    being a pawn in a tug of war between daedric princes, How could she? They'll never understand.


    Sheogorath smiled to himself as he knew what Drujeeta saw in her mind as he too knows of her nephew's fate as a puppet being

    puppeteered by two daedric princes. He just sat on his throne grinning broadly like an idiot, one who knew something about Hasir's

    fate that she didn't. At once Drujeeta sat up straighter, she had heard something.


    The palace doors imploded and four silver hand members came though the opening. At their head was a nord outfitted in daedric

    armor. He was wielding a silver sword. The leader and his men charged their prey. Drujeeta transformed into her silver

    haired, blue eyed wolf form and charged on all four paws at the leader, whose name was Krev the Skinner.


    Both sides rushed towards each other trading blow for blow. A silver hand member was torn apart from Silver's powerful claws; she

    tore into his chest and ripped the heart free of the chest cavity. The other two members of the silver hand turned to run, however,

    silver sensed their movements and reacted, running at them and she knocked them to the floor. Their hearts were ripped from their

    chests as well.


    The leader of the silver hand screamed as his joints and bones broke and reformed, he seemed to grow in height and his body grow

    longer, his muscles became more defined, white hair sprouted all over his body, his mouth and nose lengthened into a wolf muzzle

    and his eyes took on an amber hue; a powerful wolf muzzle.The werewolf used his back legs as a springboard and lunged at silver,

    the she wolf tried to dodge the wolf's mighty jaws, but the jaws tore into the silver werewolf's stomach, causing her to yelp in pain.

    Silver finally managed to shake the huge wolf off of her and, blood dripping from her stomach, and slashed at the creature's

    face, causing a huge gash to open under his right eye. His wound healed immediately. The wolf snarled at Silver.


    The werebat saw the Argonian and tsaesci before they saw him. The werewolf stalked the particularly tasty meals that were mere

    inches from its muzzle. Silver tried to run tried to protect to two creatures in front of her but the pain in her gut was making her feel

    light-headed. She finally collapsed from severe blood loss and slipped in unconsciousness.


    Serana and Quinchal realized the danger too late as the werebat was upon them. He knocked them both to the ground. The tsaesci,

    however, was not going to give up that easily, he trained too hard to be beaten this easily. He was on the ground only for a minute

    and then just as the werebat was just about to finish him off, the Tsaesci quickly spun around and unsheathed his nodachi and in

    one quick motion he slashed the creature's stomach wide open. The creature did not fall over, light emitted from the spot where

    Quinchal had wounded the wolf. Quinchal gasped as the wolf's stomach seemed to magically sew itself up much like a seamstress

    would sew a torn shirt. The creature backhanded Quinchal with one paw, which sent he spiraling through the air. He collided with a

    stone pillar, knocking him unconscious.


    The wSilver hand leader blanked Quinchal's limb body and focused his attention on Tulen. Claws met as they attacked each other,

    the vampire tore at the wolf's chest with her claws. He transformed in Ironclaw succeeded in ripping large gashes in the werebat's

    chest, slowing his attack. The vampire then summoned two gargoyles, they immediately attacked their target. The gargoyles

    slashed viciously at the wolf, causing it to yelp in pain.


    Tulen transformed back into his reptilian form and gasped as the werewolf seemed to regenerate, gashes scabbed over and fur

    grew back, she turned away from the werewolf and walked over to the unconscious forms of the Tsaesci and wolf hybrid and opened

    scroll, words danced in front of her for second and then were gone. She cast the spell and vanished, leaving the dead snake

    alone in the palace. The wolf slashed at them, missing Serana by mere inches. She could hear the white wolf's howling of rage as

    she spun through space and time


    The werewolf, Tulen realized, was but a distraction, the real threat was watching them, biding his time so he could find the opportune

    time to attack. Serana wondered who this 'threat' was and what his purpose was and why he would send lackeys to do his dirty work

    unless he was just toying with them, sitting back, carefully planning his next move.