C50 Furry

He hum-growls in agreement and sits in the corner by his armor.

— —

-Bang-

The doors of Jorrvaskr slammed open with a bang. Everyone quieted down and watched as Farkas and I entered with heavy steps.

Reaching the table, we set down two bulging pouches stuffed to the brim with the Septims the Silver Hand members had, which was no small sum.

'You can't be poor and called the "Silver" Hand at the same time.'

Farkas then takes the fragment of Wuuthrad and holds it over his head, "We bring honor and glory! We have reclaimed another piece of Wuuthrad!"

After announcing that, he pushed the pouches over, letting the Septims spill out. Then leans on the table, speaking lowly, "And this week's mead is on us."

After a short moment of silence—

"YEAH!!"

Everyone, not already standing, does so and starts cheering; the feast of the year, soon to start.

Before we can be drug into it, however, Skjor comes and says, "So the scholar was right about the fragment, I see."

Farkas hands him the shard while downing a tankard.

Seeing him unable to answer, I do, "Aye—though we weren't the only ones with the tip," I point at the two packs by the door with a few silver pommels sticking out.

His eyes furrow a bit, "Hmm, I take it they weren't too difficult to handle?" Undoubtedly, he recognized who they belonged to.

-Bam-

Setting down the empty tankard, Farkas says, "Nope, not with our new Shield-Brother here. It was no different than exterminating a skeever den—well, not quite that easy—BUT, I did get to 'let loose' a bit, without any worry."

Skjor gives me the first proper look yet, "Is that so..."

After a moment, he pats both our shoulders, "Well—I'll go put this in the display and talk to the old man. You two go and enjoy the feast; you've both earned it—more like you're paying for it, hahaha!"

The feast that followed lasted a length of time I didn't bother keeping track of.

The only thing I learned is that I can out-drink anyone here. Not because my body can handle it—definitely not—but because my mind is separate from the limitations of my body, and I can cheat because of it...

And, other than the continuous drinking and feasting on badly cooked meat, I may or may not have had a little closed room 'tussle' with Ria at some point during the feast.

'At least I don't need to use magic with this body to make it 'receivable' by normal women—but—sadly, her stamina was still far worse than mine, and I was left rather unsatisfied at the end of it...'

On a side note.

I don't know if it's because of this being a 'magical world' or not, but the people here are never just average in the looks department. They're either good-looking or downright fugly—like Vignar.

'How does that even happen?'

His face must've gone through something horrible at one point in his life because it looks like an overly tanned, moldy melted block of cheese.

— — —

Once the festivities were over, my official induction into the Companions was held; it was just a simple oath made in the training yard.

Afterward, I was able to get some weapons made of Skyforge Steel. Although the Skyforge is being used by a mortal and nowhere near its highest capability because of it, it's still pretty good steel and the best in Tamriel.

Once I was better equipped, I pretty much spent my time on missions, some easy, others hard.

You're never supposed to go on missions alone, regardless of their difficulty, so I was usually with Farkas or Aela, sometimes both. There were even a couple of times I went with Vilkas or Skjor.

A normal whelp wouldn't be able to hang with the 'Big Boys' so soon, but I showed them skill on par with their own and even above, on occasion, so I was the rare exception.

That was life for a few weeks; there weren't any dragons being sighted by anyone, anywhere, either. I wasn't worried, though, as I knew I'd get 'pushed' along when the time came—which was now.

Much faster than in any realistic scenario, I found myself in the Underforge, the cozy little cave that's—under—the Skyforge.

Why they didn't wait longer so they could see more of who I was, I don't really know. I can only blame it on me being the current 'Chosen One.'

"You've proven yourself worthy; even in such a short time, you've gained the trust of many, and we've seen it fit for you to join the inner Circle of the Companions—if you agree."

Skjor was the one speaking; he seemed to warm up to me pretty quickly over this time.

'This "protagonist Aura" honestly feels a bit weird.'

My current running theory is that this 'helping force' is the will of Lorkhan; he could be responsible for this because Nirn is basically his realm.

Just as the Daedra have realms, so to do the Aedra; that's what the 'planets' are. The only real difference is that the Divines are weaker and in a permanent, half-sleeping state, with little ego of their own anymore; this is due to many reasons...

Focusing back on the Underforge, I see that Farkas is the only other person here, though not in human form.

'Makes sense it would be him.'

We've been on quite a few missions together, so it's more likely for Farkas to do this instead of Aela.

Skjor motions to him, "Farkas has agreed to be your forbear. I trust you still recognize him, as I believe you've already seen him in this form—" he gives Farkas a small glare, "on more than one occasion."

Farkas acts oblivious while looking at an interesting crack on the wall.

I nod to Skjor, so he continues his little speech about how Kodlak doesn't like this 'curse' and that warriors like us deserve better than just drunken feasts.

Eventually, he offers me a place in the Circle by sharing in the blood of the wolf.

I obviously agreed.

He cut Farkas's wrist and let blood fill the fountain—which actually took some time. Unlike in the game, fountains don't instantaneously fill here.

Once it was filled enough—

"The blood calls, brother."

Stepped up to the fountain, I took the largest swallow I could, 'Mmm, nothing like a mouthful of blood at midnight to help with indigestion...'

Then, I let my body do what it wanted—which was collapse to the ground, convulsing violently.

"Hmm, it seems he isn't taking to it too well," I hear Skjor say.

"Grr," and Farkas.

Of course, the reason it's so intense is because of my own tampering.

Over the past weeks, I've been studying my Dragonborn blessing, and since lycanthropy is essentially the blessing of Hircine, just more physical, they both have many things in common.

While, to me, it's a new 'magic' of sorts, I have come quite a ways in understanding it.

With what I've learned, I should be able to repair, or better yet, upgrade this werewolf bloodline to the same level as my 'Dragon Soul,' which was directly given by Akatosh.

'Maybe even go a bit further...'

By the time I'm done, I'll be to werewolves, what Vampire Lords are to normal vampires; a Werewolf Lord.

'Huh, if I recall correctly, there was something like that in Elder Scrolls Online.'

The only thing I have to be careful of is getting caught.

If I blatantly tamper with the blessing of a Daedric Prince, especially with my own energy, I'll practically be sending a signal to everyone that an alien intruder is here.

As a solution, I'll instead coax my Dragonborn blessing to do the work for me. It's actually pretty easy since it's attached to my soul, and I'm pretty good at soul stuff.

And since Akatosh himself isn't much better than a program running on autopilot at this point, I'm safe from discovery as long as I'm just a little careful.

The only side-effect is that my lycanthropy will be influenced by my Dovahkiin-ness. But, that shouldn't change much since being Dragonborn doesn't affect the body and only the soul.

'Well, technically, all Dragonborn have the soul AND the blood of a dragon, but the blood doesn't do anything; not even basics like preventing diseases or poison, so—it shouldn't affect much—I think...'

"Is he doing alright?" I hear Aela's voice.

She and Vilkas entered the Underforge as well. Probably because I'm taking so long.

"No. This is the roughest change I've ever seen. If it gets much worse, I fear he won't make it," Skjor says.

'Ah, right. Maybe I should stop delaying before I kill my own body.'

Focusing on my soul, I see two contrasting 'things' on my soul; one side is covered in gold, that's from Akatosh, while the other is light blue.

After coaxing the gold side, tendrils reach over to the blue and start altering its 'structure,' so to speak.

If Hircine's blessing is like a brick house, then right now, the bricks are misaligned, and everything's dilapidated.

What I'm doing is akin to fixing the walls, roof, furnishing the house, etc.

The only trouble comes when parts are too destroyed to tell what it would've looked like, and I have to reference Akatosh's 'house' to come up with something.

After a few minutes—to the outside world, at least—the blue side turned much darker with a few specks of gold.

'I'm surprised Hircine's blessing is blue and not something more sinister like black or red.'

Aside from the dark blue and gold, there were also some bits of gray. But these weren't part of the blessing, and instead, were from somewhere else.

'Probably the witches that gave the lycanthropy to the Companions in the first place... I'll leave it for now and take care of them some other time.'

With everything done, I stop halting the transformation and open my eyes—

"Wait! Look."

Skjor was about to pierce my throat, ending my 'misery' when Vilkas stopped him.

"His eyes, it's successful!"

'That was a close one... I should really stop rambling on in my head so much—yeah, no—I don't think that'll happen anytime soon.'

-Crack-

My first turn finally started for real.

-Shift-

Each bone broke while changing position and size.

Muscles stretched, and fur sprouted, while a snout grew from my face, though I could tell it wasn't quite as 'wolfish' as a normal werewolf.

I didn't feel any of the pain because I didn't want to—so I didn't.

"He's so—"

"RrR(Big)," Farkas interrupted Aela with widened wolf eyes of his own.

My height stopped a little above eight feet, more than a foot taller than Farkas, and my frame was packed with muscle.

Additionally, my body was about ten or twenty percent more 'man' compared to normal. I could still run on all fours, but I was more upright and able to fight better.

'I'm kinda like Van Helsing's werewolf—but a bit more savage.'

Aside from that, my fur was pitch black, and my eyes were golden, 'What else could be expected,' but if one looked closely, they were ever so slightly slit, unlike a wolf's that's round.

Seeing that everything was done, I reintegrated all my body's senses and gave in to my new desire to howl.

"Owooo!"

It was deep and guttural like a beast my size should sound, but it was still a howl nonetheless. I could tell it affected the four in some way as well, besides just hurting their ears.

The exit of the Underforge also opened, unaided, like it knew it was time for me to go on the hunt.

Running out, with the others trying to keep up, I climbed to the top of the Skyforge's eagle. I ignored Whiterun since I didn't care to massacre normies, even if Nazeem is annoying.

Looking north of the Throat of the World, I think, 'Gallows Rock should be that way. Perhaps I can preempt Skjor's death if I take care of it now, or maybe 'fate' will kill him some other way to compensate.'

I'm going through so much trouble because I want to stick to the 'story,' as well as test its corrective ability and limitations.

I already found the Silver Hand base you wake up at after the first turn. With my new speed, it shouldn't take more than a few hours to get to.

"OWOOO!!

After releasing an even loader howl that probably woke up all of Whiterun, I jumped off the eagle and landed outside the walls. The drop didn't mean much to me in this form.

After that, I ran through the fields and farms faster than a horse at full gallop. It only took a few minutes to reach the White River that runs along the foot of the mountains, to the east.

Finding a large boulder to act as a ramp, I ran up and jumped off the end, reaching the other side of the rapids after a few seconds of air travel.

Then, I stopped and waited.

Soon enough, four other silhouettes neared the river as well.

'It seems they can't help but follow after that last howl... is it something like the Howl of the Pack, or just pack mentality like normal wolves?'

Sniffing the air, I could smell more than just them. There were also a couple werewolves in the woods steadily approaching, as well as a few packs of wolves on their way.

"Grr(Damn!)," detecting all those coming, I realize just how much sway I have over the local beast populace.

'I'll have to be careful, or I'll have a bunch of dogs dragging behind me all the time.'

Once Farkas and the other three landed next to me, I looked at them. They were breathing heavily and looked excited, just like puppies—but way more deadly and a stark lack of cuteness.

I shrugged internally, 'Already went this far, might as go the rest of the way.'

"Owooo!"

Howling again, I lead my growing 'pack' down the river. Our goal was blood—silver blood.

— —

//Note//

I just want to know if I should keep each sentence separate or have them as actual paragraphs.

I'm pretty sure most people read on their phones, so the text is squished together more.

This chapter was sorta in-between and had some single sentences as well as a couple grouped together.

If I don't get comments on this, then I'll just keep doing it how I want and won't care if readers get eye fucked trying to read chapters.

— —

I know that in the game, Aela and Skjor were all for being werewolves, while Vilkas and Farkas eventually wanted to cure themselves.

I definitely didn't forget that and am now trying to figure out how to reconcile this...

— —

Werewolf Lord wasn't just pulled out of my ass.

1) It makes sense.

2) It's in ESO. Granted, it's only a polymorph, but it's lore now.

3) There's a mod called "Night of the Wolf - Become a Werewolf Lord" by tx12001 that's similar in spirit to my idea.

4) Could the MC be anything less??

— —