Hunter's Glade Recap - 31st Morning Star

I had thought the giant mosquito was annoying enough, but the shapeshifter’s lizard form is perhaps more vexing. It thwarted Durrin and my attempts at attack before Ingathol managed to strike it with an ice bolt. It then morphed into a copy of the Altmer, only with its arms replaced by blades.

The Reachmen made short work of it. Barrett and Tarkuuth had some success severing its arms, while Durrin gored it against his tusks.

With that distraction out of the way, the group proceeded back to the altar we had visited on our arrival. To my awe, before us stood Hircine himself, Daedric Lord of the Hunt. We presented our prizes and were granted our freedom. However, this was not enough for some. Ingathol pleaded with my patron to be free of his blessing. Indeed, the Altmer had never made use of his lycanthropy during the hunt and seemed to scorn Hircine.

Hircine was not pleased, nor was I. Apparently the Altmer had even accepted the gift unto himself as I had, but had grown to despise it. Sickening. I awaited my Lord’s instruction to kill the false hunter and was rewarded for my patience. Retrieve his heart, we were instructed. Gladly.

Ingathol was quick to put up a fiery barrier to prevent the clan from descending on him, but such a measure was as ineffectual as the Altmer himself. Before I could strike, however, the weakened Valtani climbed atop my back. Ugh, how embarrassing. To be used as a mount in my bestial form. Nonetheless, I didn’t argue, as it seemed prudent to advance as much of the clan on the retreating Altmer as quickly as possible.

I grabbed a nearby bench and used it as a bridge to cross Ingathol’s firewall, but he managed to hold me at bay. That was until Barrett scored a hit with one of his arrows. Tarkuuth moved in, delivering a fierce punch that toppled the Altmer. With him unable to resist, I quickly tore into his chest and ripped his still beating heart out with my jaws. I don’t recall the last time I’ve experienced a kill so heady. How long have I been trapped with this blasphemous man? To finally be rid of him was a prize worth crossing Oblivion for.

The others didn’t seem to enjoy the victory quite so much. How Ingathol had endeared himself to them, I’ll never know. Tarkuuth took it the hardest, as he seems to see any packmate as a child of his.

Nonetheless, as the heart cooled in my mouth, I delivered it to my Lord. He again gave praise and offered the Spear of Bitter Mercy. A powerful artifact, to be certain, though I wasn’t confident I could make use of it. I wasn’t going to disrespect such an offer, so I took the spear with me.

I suppose we can discuss its fate back at the den. I’m eager to take a bath and will likely need a long slumber after my extended time as a werewolf.

~Zifri Mossvale