Moonlit Scales: Weakness (3)

It feels like moments have passed. I keep hearing a man's voice echoing as I slowly wake up. As I wake up, I recognize the voice. It was Sam. As his voice gets louder and clearer, I open my eyes slightly.

"Wake up." Sam said, making eye contact with me as I open mine.

I look around to find myself in an inn; the wooden structure looks somewhat new. I hear two other voices in another room; it sounds like a father and son arguing. Then I hear two other voices; it sounds like Redguards having a conversation about a certain woman. Sam stands next to the bed I'm laying on.

"Wh-where am I?" I asked. The inn looks like any typical Nord building in Skyrim.

"Rorikstead." responded Sam. I lay my head back down. "You passed out back in my camp."

"Why are we here when I should be in Falkreath?" Sam should know that I was on my way there.

"Skorvald and your Argonian friend should be outside the inn waiting for you." Sam obviously ignored my question. Something is up.

"I have stew ready." a Nord's voice came through the doorway. It's Skorvald holding a foul smelling bowl.

"Ah, just in time. Shada is awake." Sam responded. I do not like where this is going at all.

"What in Oblivion is going on?!" I glare at Sam with anger and confusion. I drank some Nord blood and now I look at him serving me stew. Skorvald approaches me as I look at him with a hint of suspicion.

"Here's your food, it's made to make you feel better." said Skorvald. I might as well comply with his offering to investigate further into what is really going on. I scoop up a spoonful of broth and carefully taste it.

Not bad.

I take a few more sips of the broth. It's a generous offering, but why does it smell so terrible and foul?

Something is wrong.

I start to cough hard, as if I have Rockjoint disease. It felt worse than the incident at Sam and Skorvald's camp. After a few hacking coughs, I drop the bowl of stew on the floor. Meat and vegetables spilled everywhere. The first ingredient that I see sparked some fear. It is garlic. I look back up to see Sam and Skorvald grinning at me. The next thing I know, I cannot move a muscle. My vision is blurred and distorted. My hearing is reduced to a bunch of echoes of voices.

Where's Forest-Lurker?

"Get me the silver sword." Sam requested Skorvald. I should have known about this unlikely execution of mine when I woke up to hear Sam's hospitality. I guess it's about time someone will kill me after my 200 years of undeath. I have accepted my fate when I close my eyes.

Then I hear echoes of yelling and weapon clashes. I open my eyes and look around, vision still blurred. Sam goes towards the doorway to the inn's main room.

As long as I die later, I don't give a damn what's happening right now.

"…..da!" I hear a different yet familiar voice. I could barely recognize it. "Sh…..da! Wh…..rr you!" The voice gets louder and more recognizable as if it's getting closer. "Shada! There you are, I'm getting you out of here!"

It's Forest-Lurker!

My vision blackens and sounds echo as I pass out.


Moments have passed, I wake up; my hearing is becoming clearer. I hear the sounds of wagon wheels and horse's hooves tapping.

"Shada?" I hear Forest-Lurker's voice again. I open my eyes, vision becoming clear. "Good that you're awake." I am confused. First thing I saw was Sam trying to kill me, now I see Forest-Lurker sitting on the opposite bench of the carriage.

"What…..what just happened?" I look around my surroundings, seeing the tundra of Whiterun hold, a river, and surrounding mountains.

"It's a long story, but I'll start with your little incident at the camp," said Forest-Lurker. "When I saw you pass out after drinking the nord's blood, your feeding triggered his beast. It turns out that the nord is a Lycanthrope, a werewolf."

"After that, how did I end up in Rorikstead?"

"I'll continue at my point of view. When I woke up to see you falling to the ground, I saw the nord transform. The redguard woke up immediately after a deafening roar. The beast ran away from camp."

"The nord's name is Skorvald. The redguard's name is Sam." I interrupted to prevent any confusion. It just sounded bizarre when I hear a man's certain race.

"Anyways: When Skorvald ran away in beast form, Sam looked at your unconscious body. You looked very pale, your large fangs were exposed. It was obvious that Sam realizes that you are…." Forest-Lurker stopped, glancing at the carriage driver. He whispers, "a vampire, infected with the dreadful disease."

"What happened after he found out?" I asked. I started to worry about Forest-Lurker.

"He looked at me straight in the eye. He asked me 'You're friends with…….this?!'. The next thing I know, my wrists were tied together behind my back. I was left to die in front of a bandit camp." I start to wonder how he lived. "However, by Azura's fate or Nocturnal's luck, Sam put me in front of MY bandit camp."

I find it interesting that Sam doesn't know Forest-Lurker is a bandit leader. "Then what?" I asked.

"Then? Then I gathered the rest of my clan men and women to raid Rorikstead." Forest-Lurker said in a somewhat accomplished tone.

"How did you know Sam was taking me to Rorikstead?"

"Ever since he started dragging me to my camp, he kept rambling on about Rorikstead."

"Okay, makes sense."

"I assumed it was a meeting place for Skorvald and Sam. It turns out that I was right. I saw both of them in the town. The raid was successful, only for distracting Skorvald and Sam. I looked in every building, then I found you in an inn's room." explained Forest-Lurker.

"What happened after you found me?"

"I carried you out of there. My only concern was your safety, not my clan. I left my clan to die in Rorikstead. I carried you all the way to the Whiterun stables. I hired a carriage driver to carry us further past Whiterun."

"Where are we going?"

"The Rift." He gets his map out from his satchel. He shows the border between Whiterun Hold and Eastmarch, then he shows me where we are going. "There are opportunities to start a new life."

"I lost track on my last adventure." I think it's been almost 30 years since I moved to Skyrim from the Cyrodiil warzone. Those Thalmor did "force" me to move up north.

Forest-Lurker smiled at the thought of adventure. "Then we shall start."