The moons hung high in the sky as Delila locked the door to the bakery. It had been a long day and she found herself nodding off as she walked down the deserted streets to her home. Not really paying attention to where she was going, she was suddenly jolted awake when she tripped on a lose cobblestone. A sharp pain shot through her ankle and she nearly fell flat on her face, barely catching herself on the wall of a nearby building. “Ouch.” She complained, as she looked down at her foot. It didn’t seem as if it were broken, probably just twisted it the wrong way. She sighed, “What a way to end a day. At least I made some good business.”

She glanced up at the full Masser. As the clouds that had been covering Secunda from view moved aside, she spotted a strange silhouette atop a building ahead. She couldn’t make out much, except that the shape looked somehow bestial. Then suddenly, it moved. What seemed to be its head turned to face her and she heard a faint sniffing sound. That was enough for her and she ducked into a nearby alley as quickly as the pain in her leg would allow her.

She leaned against the wall, her heart racing. “Ok, calm down, Delila, that was nothing, you’re just hallucinating from overwork. That’s right, you’re just….going insane…” she shook her head, “Ahg, I need sleep.” She pushed off the wall and started limping down the alley, despite her rationalizations she couldn’t bring herself to step back out into the main street. Suddenly she heard it, it was just a whisper, yet somehow she could make out the words. “…hunger…” She stopped again and looked around, but she saw nothing. Shaking her head, she continued onward, reaching the end of the alley. Clouds had once again covered the moons as she peaked out onto another large street, looking both ways before stepping out of the alleyway. Just then, she heard a sound behind and above her, and she quickly looked in the direction. There, poking over the edge of the roof of the building behind her was a massive, furred head, with large ears, and eyes that glowed with an eerie white light.

That was when Delila panicked. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she broke into a run. Ignoring the agony in her left ankle, she dashed for the alley across the street, after this, it was only one more block until the gate out of the Market District. “If only I can make it that far-” her thoughts were cut short when a massive shape flew over her head, bounced off the right wall of the alley, and landed in front of her. She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the creature, though she found that in the dark she could make out nothing other than the shape of a large head, those glowing eyes, and pearly white, six inch long fangs coming from its mouth. It had in fact opened its mouth, and it uttered in a deep, growling voice; “Hungry.” Delila stood frozen with fear, despite a small voice in the back of her head, screaming at her to run, to do something, she was no warrior, or mage, just a baker’s assistant. She felt a strange sensation, and heard a rushing in her ears, as the world seemed to dim, and her legs started to shake. As darkness claimed her, she saw the face moving towards her.

Hah! Sweet start, reminds me of The Beauty and the Beast.....Welcome to the gang of writers here.....Keep it coming please!

Nice story there. You mentioned she needed to get to the market district, doesn't that mean there would have been guards near by? Just wondering.
Otherwise great work, keep it coming!

Yeah, fictions like this remind me about when I joined up last fall not so long ago. You're stories intriguing..... so far, keep it that way!

Actually, get out of the Market District. Yes there would usually be guards around, but let's just say she had the bad luck to miss all of them. Now I know what direction I'm going to take this next, but after that I'm not sure, oh well, I guess I'll just start writing and see where I go. Things are not as they seem, to say the least. Bearing that in mind, any criticism?

Woah! Interesting start. Gets right down to the action: right away the reader is pulled in by the question "what happens next?"

Your style of writing reminds me of mine.

Good job!

I can't wait to see how the title relates to the story. Mmmmm, cheesecake. Do werewolves like cheesecake?

Well this was originally going to be a one part story with a silly twist at the end, that werewolves do in fact like cheesecake. But I decided to change it while I was writing, and by the time I finished I was very tired and couldn't think of a better title. Truth is, I'm not sure what I'm going to do beyond the next chapter.

Sorry, this one is much shorter. That's because I haven't gotten any farther than this in my own head, as the how the story will progress.



Be’Ghir watched the human woman expectantly. Waiting for some sort of reply, instead all he got was a soft gurgling noise. His ears twitched in surprise as the woman suddenly started to fall. The young Senche dashed quickly forward, catching her now limp form under his face, and lowering her to the ground. “Oh no, she’s dead! What did I do?! Oh no oh no oh no oh no! Oh Master, where are you? How did I get here? Wait, wait, I need to calm down.” He looked around at the quiet streets; no one was coming… yet. He lowered his head near to the woman’s; he could feel her breath on his wet nose. “Oh thank the moons! She’s alive! I’m not a murderer!” *gurgle* “Ow, oh, I’m so hungry. And she smells so nice, like cake.” Be’Ghir whimpered, “Oh what am I going to do now?”

Suddenly an orange light appeared around the corner and turned onto the street, the bearer of the torch was a human in metal armor with a large shield. “What’s that, a soldier maybe? Maybe he can help.” The cloud covered moons and Be’Ghir’s dark coat meant that the soldier did not notice him, until the light of the torch reflected off his eyes. “This…one…hungry.” He said. Looking down at the woman he continued, “Need…help.” The armored man replied by screaming very loudly. Be’Ghir, roared in shock. The man drew his sword and yelled some more. Be’Ghir grabbed the unconscious woman by the back of her shirt, leapt onto the roof of a nearby building and bounded away from the mad man.

****

As consciousness returned to her, Delila had the strange sensation that she was flying, no, hanging. She was hanging in the air by the back of her vest. She heard yelling in the distance, and the clatter of metal boots on cobbles. And there was the pain in her left ankle… Slowly she opened her eyes and then nearly passed out again when she realized that the city street was at least fifty feet below her. Then the flat roof of a building came up beneath her and she was jolted as whatever was carrying her landed and continued to move. “What?” She thought, groggily. “What’s carrying me?” She tried to look around, and then noticed two large black paws running beneath her. “Huh?” she muttered. Suddenly memory flooded back to her like a slap on the face. She immediately started panicking, struggling to escape whatever it was that had her in its grasp. There was a sound of ripping cloth and the creature suddenly stopped moving, and started lowering her to the roof. Despite this she still continued to struggle; there was another tearing sound, and she suddenly fell, landing on her injured leg and collapsing, tears streamed from her eyes at the pain. She let out a cry, and then the growling voice she had heard before returned. “You… hurt?”

Delila froze in place, had she really heard what she thought she had? She turned and stared up into the face of a cat. A gigantic cat. “Guh!” she exclaimed. The cat cocked its head to one side as if curious. “You… hurt?” It said again. Delila couldn’t think of any way in which to react, she just sat dumbfounded. “This one… Be’Ghir... Sorry… clothes.” “What?” she murmured. She looked down and realized that her vest had been ripped clean through in the back and was hanging from one arm, the only thing keeping it in one piece were the ties in the front. “Uh, that’s alright.” She said, looking back at the cat. The last thing she wanted to do was anger it. “Sorry… this one…carried… you. Crazy men… chase… Hungry.” Said the cat. Her eyes widened with fear again as he mentioned his hunger. Oddly the cat seemed to notice. “No… Khajiit… eat… human… silly…” the cat shook it’s head as it continued “What is… human… name?” “Uh, my name? It’s… Delila. Y- You’re a Khajiit?” the cat cocked his head again. “Yes… Khajiit… Be’Ghir.”

Suddenly Be’Ghir tensed and his ears perked as he turned to look off behind him, “Crazy men… come.” Delila listened and she could hear the sounds of metal booted feet coming closer. “Crazy men? It sounds like the guards. Don’t worry, I’ll explain… Er… Why were you carrying me?” The massive Khajiit squinted in what must have been a thinking expression. “You… fell down… then… man in…armor… came… screamed and… tried… to stab… thought… he was… crazy man…” Be’Ghir explained, in his broken dialect. “Carried you… and ran…” “I… see.” said Delila, unintentionally mimicking his manner of speech. The sound of the guards’ footsteps had come to the bottom of the building they were now on top of. “Must leave…” said Be’Ghir, his ears folding back against his head. “Don’t worry; I’ll explain it for you.” Delila reassured him. “Just tell me, how did you end up in the imperial city?” “Don’t… know… hungry…” Just then the roof access door opened and a whole squad of guardsmen led by a captain came streaming out, quickly surrounding the pair. Delila stepped forward, her arms raised diplomatically, “Hold on, he’s not-“ The captain drew his sword, with a look of surprise on his face, and pointed it at Delila. “Don’t move, Black Cat!”

That captain sure loves to jump to conclusions, doesn't he? Well I love it so far. Continue whenever you've finished playing out the next scene.

By the way, playing out scenes in your head a few times before writing is indeed a really good trick.

Ah, nice addition. I like the way this mysterioud Khajit talks, gives him a sense of individuality, and definately tells the reader he's different.
Can't wait for the next one!

I do this as well: I can't write otherwise.

I can't wait to see what happens next!

Another shortish one. Sorry for the giant text block look but I couldn't find an approprite spot for a paragraph break.


IV
His ears and whiskers folded back against his head, Be’Ghir growled softly as the armored men formed a circle around Delila and himself. “Well this is just great.” He thought, “If I were alone I could just plow my way out of this and escape, but I can’t leave her behind with these crazies.” Behind him he sensed Delila moving away, and he shifted himself so that he could see her. The clouds moved away from the moons again as she spoke. “Hold on, he’s not-“ She started, but she was cut short as the captain drew his sword and pointed it directly at her chest. “Don’t move, Black Cat!” Several of the other guardsmen suddenly looked un-easy, and glanced nervously at their captain. “S- Sir?” One of them uttered. “Did you forget it already? Just this night we received new information on the burglar known as Black Cat. She has a tattoo in the shape of a heart on her left- stand back you bullock brained moron!” The captain suddenly shouted. The younger guardsman had started inching forward, presumably in an attempt to get a better look at the evidence, and was now standing between the captain and Delila. “What is happening?” wondered Be’Ghir as he watched the strange scene unfold, unsure of how to act. Delila moved forward, towards the guardsman, placing her hands upon the loose neck of her blouse. The guardsman came even closer until they were less than a foot apart, and then Delila suddenly slammed her left knee into his midsection, at the same time shoving him backwards towards the captain, who was forced to lower his weapon to avoid impaling his subordinate. “Delila quickly turned around, half running, half limping back towards Be’Ghir, who stood in shock, his eyes wide, his ears perked forward, and his mouth slightly ajar. “Be’Ghir, we have to leave! Please, give me a ride!” “Mrrow?” Was all the Senche could think of in response. Still, he quickly lowered himself to allow her to climb on and once she was aboard, charged forward, knocking aside a pair of dumbfounded guards. He leapt from the roof and started bounding away. “You scamp brained idiots! Pilums!!” Shouted the captain from behind them. A second later, several wooden javelins with long iron tips fell around them, most of them clattered off the roof, and a few of them stuck in it. One of them nearly struck them, instead hitting Delila’s skirt, and tearing a long gash in it. “Oh no, these clothes were new!” Delila groaned. “This is a terrible night!”

Another great chapter, it makes this innocent Delila look like she has some secrets! I love the way you've developed it from the Khajit looking like the bad guy, and now it seems Delila is the real villan! Keep it up!

While I don't want to draw my conclusions just yet, I do wonder. Who is the source of this new information? And just what is so serious about the Black Cat? Is the Black Cat a Khajiit, or not? Somehow I think that tattooing is hard with fur, or at least hard to see. But who knows.

well, as a rule in lituaracy, you should start a new paragraph for every new person speaking. So one paragraph has Be'Ghir speaking and the next has a guard's/Delila's responce to Be'ghir's comment. It help the reader/writer when reading/checking for errors.

On another note, keep up the good work!

Your story has been an excellent read so far. In just the little bit that you've written, there's all ready been a nice assortment of twists and turns that keeps a reader fixed upon the work. Even now I want to know more about these characters and the secrets some of them seem to have.

I also like how your characters instantly have a unique personality. Thumbs up for me. Continue please!

As a rule in literacy, you should start sentences with a capital letter and also use proper grammer and spelling.

Sorry, I couldn't help myself. Seriously though, I'll try to take your advice into account when I write the next piece.

Here we go, thanks to Tulustan's story for giving me the idea to set mine after Oblivion.

V
“Hide here, I’ll be back.” Delila said to the massive Khajiit as she took a key from her pocket, and approached one of the many doors surrounding them. They were in a small grassy area, surrounded on three sides by two story apartment buildings and on one side by a stone wall with an iron gate in it, somewhere in the Temple District.

“Who… are… you? …Really…”

Delila paused, the key in the lock. “I’m Delila Eclise; I’m a baker’s assistant.”

Be’Ghir growled softly behind her, his tail flicking violently. “You… do not… trust… me?”

She felt a pang of fear and slowly turned to look at him. It seemed that she had misjudged him; at least he was not a stupid oaf, as she had taken him for. “Alright… The truth is I also have a small side job; I obtain certain items from those with no need for them, and redistribute them. However, the guards don’t particularly like the way I do things.”

The movement of Be’Ghir’s tail became gentler as she he listened. “You... are… a thief…”

She frowned, “Please don’t say that, it’s not as if I pick people’s pockets on the street. I’d like to know what you’re doing here yourself.”

Now it was Be’Ghir’s turn to frown, or at least do the closest thing his kind did to frowning. “Do not… know… master… cast… a spell… there… was… a light… then… was… here… Where is…here?”

“This city is the capital of the empire, if you can still call it that without an emperor. Heh, I used to think things were bad back then… So you’re a mage’s apprentice or something?” There was clearly a hint of skepticism in her voice as she asked the question.

Be’Ghir’s head moved up and down in an odd sort of nod. “Yes…” he exhaled sharply, “Hrmph… hrm… strange…”

Delila turned back to the door and left the Khajiit to mull over whatever it was he was thinking about. She was going to have to leave the city after this. Even if they had no proof, the guards would still probably arrest her. And while they still didn’t know where she lived it would only be a matter of time now that they’d seen her face. She definitely couldn’t go back to work in the Market District. She took a traveling pack from her closet and started filling it with everything she thought she would need, or couldn’t easily replace. She spent a while trying to decide what clothes to bring, finally coming upon a form fitting black leather jumpsuit with an opening in the front. “Well, I guess I should get changed, I can’t go out looking like this.” She stripped off her battered and torn clothing and, remembering her sprained ankle, took a bottle from her shelf and applied some of the contents to the area. There was a sort of sizzling sound as the fluid immediately absorbed into the skin and soon she could feel the muscles healing. She stamped on the floor a few times to make sure the healing was complete and then started to clothe herself again, this time in the black jumpsuit. Suddenly she heard a tapping sound and looked up to see a large catlike face peering through her bedroom window.

Half clothed, Delila jumped back and crossed her arms across her chest embarrassedly, her cheeks reddening. Be’Ghir however only seemed surprised by her reaction. Still covering herself, she walked to the window and threw it open with one hand; “What are you doing? I’m changing!”

“Guards… coming.” Was all Be’Ghir said in reply before dropping back down to the ground.

Delila quickly returned to the room and finished dressing. She could now hear the telltale sound of armored boots on cobbles, and it was quickly growing closer. She hurriedly replaced the stopper on the bottle of healing ointment and tossed it into the bag. Hastily, she found the rest of her gear and donned it. Boots, fingerless gloves with padded knuckles, her tool belt, and of course, her mask. It was a rather silly idea she’d had, wearing a masked hood over the top of her face that resembled a cat’s face. It of course was how she’d gotten her nickname, the Black Cat.

She had taken too long and now she noticed the guards were entering the courtyard, Be’Ghir was no where to be seen. She could only hope he’d hidden on the roof before they’d come. Then she heard a familiar voice.

“Captain, I can’t believe this! Delila wouldn’t-“

The first voice was cut off by a second, one that sounded very exasperated “Guardsman Heris, we have a picture! You identified her yourself! She’s the Black Cat, and not only that but she somehow has a large beast assisting her. If you really want to help her, you can get her to come quietly so that she isn’t harmed. Otherwise, this conversation is finished.”

Delila was struck with a wave of guilt, “Oh no, not Steffen”. She had to get out of there, now.

“Which apartment is it Heris?” She heard the captain say.

Delila moved to her back and took out a grappling hook with a long rope attached to it. Leaving the end of the rope in her backpack, she slipped the bag over her shoulders and rushed to the window. She poked her head out and looked up at the roof. It wasn’t all that far, but she couldn’t have reached it if she’d had to jump. She quickly glanced down into the courtyard one more time before heaving the hook up and onto the roof. Giving it a couple tugs to make certain that it was secure; she leapt out of the window and started climbing hand over hand up the side of the building, while pushing against the wall with her legs.

“She’s up there!” Came the voice of the captain. Delila looked down for just a moment to see a number of soldiers staring up at her. Then she reached the top. “Damn! Does this building have roof access? Seggius, Talbot, get me a ladder!”

“You… took… too… long…” said a familiar voice. Delila turned to she the Be’Ghir getting to his feet.

“I’m sorry, thank you for waiting; we had better leave now huh?” She replied.

Be’Ghir again gave his funny looking nod. “Yes…”

Looking back as Be’Ghir carried her away, Delila whispered; “I’m sorry Stefen…”

Aha, so she is the Black Cat. Hmm, now questions have been raised regarding Be'Ghir.

Yes indeed. There's still much more to find out about these characters I think. I look forward to finding out more. Strong work so far.

Heh, this my longest one so far, but hardly anything happened did it? It's just all the paragraph breaks I added. Oh well.

I'm trying to think of a better title for this since the story really doesn't prominently feature cheesecake.

This one was actually supposed to be longer but if I had continued I wouldn't have found a good stopping place for a while. The good news; I'm much farther ahead in writing Be'Ghir's story than I need to be.

VI
“This is worse than the time I knocked over master’s alchemy table! At least he only transformed me into a rat for the rest of the day. These guards are really trying to kill me! No wait, they’re after her. Why am I even helping her?” truthfully, he couldn’t say. “I hope master finds me soon.” Be’Ghir tilted his left ear towards the woman riding on his back. “Where… now?”

“We need to get far away from the city, and the quickest way to do that is with a ship. Take a left here. We need to get to the Waterfront.”

“Yes.” Replied Be’Ghir as he headed in the direction indicated. Leaping from roof to roof, he could see the closed gate ahead. “How we… get… out?” He asked, looking back over his shoulder.

Delila looked worried, “Uh… Well… Do you think you could jump it?”

“Could… but… you… too heavy.” “Well maybe I could but she’d probably get hurt.”

“What? Are you calling me fat!?” Delila snapped.

“No.” Be’Ghir calmly replied. “Humans are strange.”

Delila frowned; “What do you mean? Oh never mind. So you can’t make the jump with me on your back...” She sighed. “Well I guess there’s no choice; we’ll have to split up… There, stop by that grate.”

Be’Ghir dropped down to the street and came to a stop next to a grate imbedded in the ground, off to the side. He felt Delila slip off his back, and saw her crouch down next to the grate. She took the pack off her back and pulled out a short metal pole with thinned ends. She slipped one end under the grate and levered it up, pushing it to the side. “There we go.” She said, returning the lever to her bag and slinging it onto her back again. Delila looked up at Be’Ghir; “Well, I guess this is where we say goodbye. Once you get fast that wall you’ll be out of the city. You should probably cross the lake and get as far away from here as you can, watch out for slaughterfish. Sorry I can’t help you find your way, but I’ve got my own problems. Good luck, Debilla’s blessings.” She winked at him and, climbed into the hole. “Oh, and can you close the grate for me?”

Be’Ghir slid the grate back into place with his paw, and started moving again. “Slaughterfish… I’m so hungry.” Be’Ghir looked up at the lightening sky. His advantage in the darkness was almost gone. He heard shouts ahead and looked back to the gate to see a group of guards forming a wall of spears in front of it. “Oh well, I never meant to use the gate.” He thought, as he half ran, half leapt up the side of a building. The guardsmen watched speechlessly, even more so when he jumped from the edge of the last building, soaring through the air, and landing squarely atop the wall. A soldier stood next to him, apparently frozen with fear. Be’Ghir looked back at him for a moment and then dove off the other side, landing softly on the ground, finally free of the city. He took his time looking around. Down by the lakeshore was a small pier with a wooden dingy tied to it. He walked down and examined it. “I could probably use this to get across the lake. Hm…” He bit through the rope and then flopped down on top of the tiny boat, his leg dangling off the sides, “Well at least it’ll keep me mostly dry.”

Hmm, Be'Ghir is quite the acrobat. I like him alot, especially with his comments all the time. One line really got me, though it wasn't said by Be'Ghir.

“What? Are you calling me fat!?” Humans, always jumping to conclusions.

Though it was a short update, there was plenty of character in it. Good work!

Well while I have a really long chapter of Be'Ghir's side already written, I just finished this one from Delila's side. It's about the same length as the last I think. Sorry if it sucks, I'm actually having a bit of trouble coming up with stuff to write for Delila's plot, combat scenes make things allot longer but Delila isn't much of a combatant..

VII
Delila dropped down to the walkway and looked up to see the grate being pushed closed above her. The stench was not so bad this time of day since most people had been asleep all night, and their waste had been washed away with the current. Delila pressed forward, it would be better if she were on a ship before the sun rose.

It would have been practically impossible to memorize the layout of the massive network of sewer tunnels and ducts running beneath the imperial city, so the only way to keep from getting lost was to follow the tunnels that went in the right direction until you reached you destination. With that in mind Delila took out her compass and started heading towards the south west. After several minutes of walking she heard the sound of wind in the distance, “I must be getting close now.” She thought, hurrying forward. In her haste she failed to notice the figure waiting in the darkness until it stepped forward and revealed itself.

“Well if it isn’t Miss Black Cat.” Said a familiar voice. Delila nearly jumped out of her skin, as she whipped around to face the source of the voice. A Bosmer with sandy orange hair was watching her.

“Quarril? Wha- uh, what are you doing here?” She stuttered in surprise.

The Bosmer raised an eyebrow, “I could ask you the same thing, I thought you preferred the sewers to be beneath you… But then again, it doesn’t really matter, does it? My business is mine and yours in yours. Whatever you’re doing here, you ought to be careful where you come up, there’s quite a commotion amongst the watch up above.” He paused for a moment, looking at her with a scrutinizing gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”

“Uh… well…” Delila started.

“Don’t tell me you got caught again! I… am… so… sick… of… you… With the Council’s new policies there’s no room here for childish amateurs who want to play dress up.” The Bosmer snapped, advancing towards her.

Delila was startled by the sudden outburst, and she stumbled backwards, nearly causing her to fall into the channel. “Quarril, I… I’m leaving the city today, hopping the next ship to Bravil.”

Quarril stopped, and smiled at her jeeringly “Oh? Is that so Miss Black Cat? Well then by all means, please continue. Don’t let me stop you…” Quarril stepped aside, still smiling menacingly.

Delila watched Quarril warily as she walked past but then broke into a run, continuing down the passage as quickly as possible and away from him. She had known him for several years, and had come to think of him as a friend, she’d had no idea that he felt that way about her. Still, now was not the time to get emotional, she had to find that exit.

After a while she saw sunlight up ahead and continuing on she found what she had been searching for, a drainage pipe leading out of the sewers, it was about two feet in diameter which made it easy for her to get through, though Be’Ghir certainly wouldn’t have managed it. Finally she found herself squinting into the early morning light. Once her eyes had adjusted to the light she looked around trying to get her bearings. A ways to her right was the harbor, with many ships docked at its piers; a few looked like they would be heading out soon.

Delila removed her mask and stuffed it into her backpack before heading towards the docks. Without it she looked more like just another adventurer looking for passage down the Nibenay. Still, she was careful to avoid the eyes of guards; it was only a matter of time before word reached them about the events in the city, if it hadn’t already. She was passing The Bloated Float, docked at its usual spot next to a sign advertising cheap rooms and meals when she noticed something quite odd. It was moving away from the dock. She stared for a moment, wondering if she was experiencing some sort of illusion, but no, it was indeed moving. “Well, where ever it’s going it isn’t here.” She thought, running after the ship and catching a rope dangling off of the side. “Hm, I sure hope we stop in Bravil.”

Ohwell, it's short, but it was still interesting. This Quaril character sounds intriguing. Keep it going. I'm looking forward to your longer Be'Ghir update.

LOL!


A question: what was "quite odd" about that ship?

I agree with Blockhead. That Bosmer had some amusing lines already.

And the odd thing is that the Bloated Float was moving, I think. Normally it is docked, right? Like a ship turned tavern that never moves.

Yes, the odd thing about the Bloated Float moving is that it's usually permanently docked and is used as an Inn. If you've played Oblivion you can probably guess some of what happens next. But first, Be'Ghir. Sorry if one of the characters in this chapter seems like a bit of a rip off of one of yours Jack, call it a tribute to my favorite character in that story. Though I really wish I was a bit more creative.



VIII
Morning had come by the time Be’Ghir finally reached the far shore of the lake. On his way across he had managed to catch a few slaughterfish that had foolishly tried to bite his paws, and even though they had each been barely a mouthful, they were enough to take the edge off his hunger. He continued inland for a short while until he reached a road running along the bottom of a cliff. He turned left and started following it away from the massive bridge leading back to the city. After several minutes of walking he heard sounds around a bend in the cliff, stopping and perking his ears he recognized the sounds of fighting. “It sounds like someone’s in trouble.” He thought, hurrying forward.

Rounding the bend, Be’Ghir came upon a startling sight. A massive humanoid, half again his size in both width and height, was doing battle with a group of four people. The strangest thing about the creature was that despite its humanoid body it had the head of a bull with long sharp horns. In its right hand it carried a large battle axe that a normal person would have wielded in two. One of the combatants, a Dunmer man with a spear, lunged at the creature, but it caught hold of the shaft of his weapon and pulled him towards it bringing down its massive axe and severing his arm in one blow before kicking him aside. A tall, fair skinned human in chain mail came up behind the creature with a claymore, screaming a battle cry but it swung the spear around and smashed the half against her head. She went flying backwards until she skidded to a stop and lay still, her iron helmet clattering to the ground several feet away. Now only two other combatants remained; a pale, brown haired human male in dull brown robes who seemed to be throwing anything he could find at the beast in his panic, and a black haired Dunmer woman who wore a hide tunic, rough leather pants, and leather boots and continued to back away and fire with her bow. Be’Ghir decided that if he was going to help anyone it had better be now, or else there was not going to be anyone alive to help. He broke into a run towards the creature, just as it started charging towards the Dunmer.

The Dunmer continued to back up and fire until she reached for another arrow and her fingers met nothing but air. She went into a close combat stance and backed up a few more feet until she ran into the cliff wall. “Curse you to Oblivion, monster!” She yelled at the top of her voice, and awaited a painful and gruesome death, but just then Be’Ghir slammed into the side of the monster sending it crashing to the ground with him on top of it. He pinned its arms with his paws and buried his teeth in its throat, pulling back with all his strength until he felt something come free and a spray of warm liquid hit him. He spit out the chunk of the beast’s throat distastefully and looked down at his handy work. The creature was definitely dead or would be in seconds, half its throat was missing, and there was blood gushing everywhere as it continued to spray from the jugular artery. He licked his chops idly as he waited for the blood to slow. The Dunmer woman was staring at him in shock; still holding up her fists in front of her as if they were some kind of deterrent. The robed man had run to check on the unconscious woman who seemed to be bleeding from a head wound, and the other Dunmer man lay clutching at the stump of his shoulder and groaning softly. Suddenly the Dunmer woman’s arms dropped and she ran to the other elf’s side. “Raan, say something!”

The male Dunmer known as Raan muttered a bit and then sputtered; “Vel…” he trailed off and passed out.

“Baric you boat! Get over here and help Raan!”

“Aye aye, I’m comin’. Hold yer horse meat, Velsa. Linde’ll be fine by the way, just some shallow cuts an of course she’s out cold.” The Breton man hurried over to the elves, giving Be’Ghir a wide berth, and examined Raan’s wounds. “Oh… well… This in’t good, is arm’s off!”

Velsa scowled at Baric “I can see that you boat! Do something about it or you’ll be wishing it was your arm I’d ripped off!”

The Breton jumped back a bit at the threat, but then returned to examine the wound. “I could reattach it if I ad the time, but I think we better git out of ere fore the big fella tires of the Minotaur.” He said, glancing up at Be’Ghir and then letting out a shriek as he realized that Be’Ghir was looking right back at him. He started scrambling backwards, tripping on his own legs.

Velsa turned to see what Baric was reacting to and reacted in much the same way as the Breton, but then she looked at Raan and stopped, instead standing up protectively in front of him.

“Wait.” Said Be’Ghir. The other two froze in place and stared up at him, he stared back. “Not… enemy.” He continued, calmly.

“Uh- Velsa, the gian cat is talkin ta us.” Muttered Baric, slowly staggering to his feet. “Think it’s tellin us ta let our guard down so it cin eat us.”

“Damn your endless talk Baric! Shut up and heal Raan!” Velsa stood up and shoved the Breton in the direction of Raan’s severed arm.

“Y-yes ma’am!” He stuttered, and scurried over to where the dark skinned arm lay bleeding on the grass.

Velsa turned back to Be’Ghir, watching him warily, “Thank you for saving us, but what- uh… Who are you? And why have you helped us?”

Be’Ghir sighed inwardly, “Human language is so confusing to speak. I really hope I don’t have to explain myself to everyone I meet.” Still, he did his best to answer. “Khajiit… Bh’Ghir… Helped… because… you… needed… help…”

Velsa looked somewhat skeptical, “You’re a Khajiit huh? Well I guess I have heard stories about giant cat Khajiit… So you’re saying you just wanted to help us?” At first she looked a bit confused but suddenly she seemed to get an idea. She gave Be’Ghir a friendly smile. “Well, since you’ve helped us, I guess it’s only right that we help you as well.”

“Lost… Hungry… You… help?” Be’Ghir said, “Ah, great, maybe they can help me find a mage or give me some food, that… thing… tasted terrible. You’d think it would taste like beef or something but it tastes more like sweat and dirt, and… something else… ewgh.”

Velsa continued to smile. “Of course, we can get you food, sure, lots of food. Just come with us.”

Meanwhile, Baric had set Raan’s arm against his shoulder and started about regenerating the damaged bone and tissue, “It’s a good thin ees not awake, this would urt allot.” He commented. Be’Ghir watched as the healer carefully applied restorative energy to the area, and the flesh knit back together leaving light bluish new skin behind. By the time he had finished he was sweating profusely, “There… ee, ought ta be… safe ta move now… but I’m not sure… how we’ll carry em… both back… ta the hideout.” He said, panting heavily.

Be’Ghir lowered his body. “Will… carry… them.”

Baric looked a bit concerned about the idea, but Velsa quickly said, “Alright, thanks Be’Ghir, come on Baric, hurry up and help me. We should get moving before a patrol comes around.”

“Gimme… some time… ta rest… willya…” Responded the healer. Velsa scoffed, and set about carrying her injured comrades over to Be’Ghir and placing them on his back.

Grunting under the Nord’s weight she said to Baric, “Well at least, erg, collect out equipment.”

“What… patrols?” interrupted Be’Ghir, turning his head back to watch the Dark Elf securing her comrades with a length of rope.

“Oh, uh… You know… Bandit patrols. Ever since those damned gates went away the imperial patrols have gotten smaller, and that makes it allot safer for bandits to work. Some bandits have even taken to posing as legionaries.” Velsa continued to smile warmly at the Khajiit.

“Hm, bandits… I better watch out for them, can’t let these guys get robbed after they promised to help me out.” Thought Be’Ghir, and replied; “Will… protect… you…”

“Well thank you, Be’Ghir. Let’s go.”

This is certainly an interesting party of travellers. Velsa certainly has a commanding and short-temper attitude. I also enjoyed Be'Ghir's commentary on the taste of Minotaur. Good work.

Hey, I don't see a rip-off anywhere. Same race and same choice of weapon doesn't make someone a clone. That would be like saying that Zorro is King Arthur because both use swords. And even if it did, I wouldn't mind. So relax and do whatever you like.

As for the story, it was fun again. Be'Ghir trying his first bite of Minotaur and being hungry as always. He must be a really big Khajiit to do all that lifting. Not to mention that a normal-sized Khajiit wouldn't shock everyone as much.

Well Zorro uses a some form of rapier while Arthur would probably have used a longsword or broadsword, so the styles of combat would have been completely different. (thank goodness Oblivion didn't have any rapiers) Spears on the other hand haven't changed much in thousands of years. The whole arm thing was also a tribute and if you rearrange the letters in his name... Yep, totaly uncreative.

Heh, I figured you already knew this with all the stories you've written. Be'Ghir is a Senche, a sub species of Khajiit that is quardrepedal and about the size of a large horse. Though they aren't usually black, but that's just a rip off of the jungle book.

Senche (top) and Senche-Raht.

Also, thanks for the comments, both of you.

Nice story so far, I especially like the personality of your characters. As was already said, they develop a distinct personality quite quickly. I especially like Be'Ghir, being so sefless and helping people out. I like his curious nature, much like normal animals. I also like his comments. And the opening twist was especially nice, making us think that Be'Ghir was a werewolf or something at first.

Well, as of now, I'm drawing a blank on how to procede with the story. So don't expect an update anytime soon. I'm sorry to anyone that liked it.

I understand. Creating plots is difficult. I've never been able to do it You'll note that everything you've seen me post here are adaptations of existing stories from the game or a plugin.

Still, perhaps an idea will occur to you at 2 Am or something. You'll grab a piece of paper and furiously write the ideas down.

Yeah, I'm thinking I may start writing an Oblivion story that could be a precurser to this one, and give me some ideas for what to do with it.

Then again, maybe I will just magicaly come up with an idea, that would be great too!

I never write down my ideas. They ussually come to me by magic then I remember them mentally. I also never have a pre-written plot for a story, I always write them as I go, never having a set end in mind.

I wish you luck in find new ideas for a plot. I'm sure something will come up.

I wish I could do that.