If only I had known...
On the 23rd Sun's Dawn, I entered a cave to the south west of Winterhold. I had heard stories from the locals, of a cult named the "Silver Hands". They were said to brandish silver swords. Silver. The lunacy. However, being Thane, my duty was clear.
I apologize. One should always introduce thyself before speaking. I'm still not sure of etiquette. Skyrim is still a foreign land to me, and while Winterhold is now my home, I long for my homeland. I am Lokir Indoril, of House Indoril. My father was a Nord, and my mother a Dunmer. I don't know what to consider myself. My skin is gray, but my heart calls out to Skyrim.
Anyway, I entered the cave. At first, I was surprised to find anything. The cavern was well lit, and looked like it was lived in. Bedrolls littered the floor. In the distance, I could hear howls. It sounded off a wolf... but it was inside the cave. I drew my sword, and got down on my knees as I heard voices.
"Beasts won't shut up..." A Redguard complained. "How are we supposed to get any sleep?"
"Maybe if you didn't stay up torturing the thing all night and put it down like you were told." A Nord replied. His gruff tone held no pity, for the man, or the poor beast they had locked up. I had heard enough. Running from behind my cover, I took them by surprise. The Redguard barely had drawn his bow when my sword pierced his chest, and he fell to the ground. Leaving my sword in him, I swung my arm, and hit the Nord. I brought my other hand back, and in one motion, a bolt of lightning shot from my hand. The air cracked, and the smell of burning flesh was in the air. The Nord clutched his stomach, and fell to the ground. Removing my sword from the Redguard, I stood over him.
"No," He gurgled, spitting blood. "Please..." My sword pierced his neck in one downward motion, and left the right side of his chest. I spat on him, and kicked his body to the side.
Normally, I'd respect the dead. It's customary in Morrowind. But I also respect animals. As a boy, I had a dog, named Sparky. He was my best friend (I was a very shy child), and I loved him. One day, the Telvanni thought it would be funny to use him for target practice. I held my the charred remains of my dog in my arms as he died. The howls of the wolf almost sounded like him.
Making my way through the cave, I came closer and closer to the sound of the beast. The poor thing was in so much pain, I wanted to move as quickly as possibly, but it was too dangerous to rush. Finally, in a cold, ice filled cavern, I found the beast.
On two legs, a hulking wolf-man stood. I stood in awe, at this horrible, yet beautiful creature. A werewolf, the Nords called in. We had nothing like it in Morrowind - and I had never seen such a majestic creature before. My awe was interrupted, however, by the state of the beast. Caged, and bound, the poor thing was nearly dead.
Running up to the cage, I found the key nearby, and opened it. The beast didn't even move as I did. Who could hurt such a defenceless animal. Such a defenceless person. These things, according to the Nords, were no more evil than I was.
I stood, looking at it, and whimpering, it lifted it's head, and looked back at me. Looking back in it's eyes, I saw a man. Falling to my knees, I opened it's ankle and wrist bindings.
"You're free." I muttered... just in time to be knocked off my feet.
Flying across the room, I hit the icy wall of the cavern. I heard my arm crunching, and I knew it was broken. Jumping out of it's cage, it crossed the room towards me. Looking into it's eyes, I still saw the man. I still saw Sparky. Raising my bloody arm, I threw a fireball towards it, and the beast erupted into flames. I threw my sword, at him, and he fell to the ground, howling.
I crawled towards it, as it burned, making sure it was dead. It wasn't. It was still bleeding - still burning - still dying. And looking into it's eyes, the man was back. Sparky was back. I drew my dagger, and with a tear falling from my eye, I stabbed the beast in it's heart.
I wish I had never entered that cave...
If only I had known...
