Darnand nodded. “Indeed, and I do not care for bloody meat so soon after today’s events.” Besides, whatever Aravi and Vera killed would need cooking. Darnand did not want to wait for a deer to roast, nor could he stomach the thought of it rare.

Back at the campsite Darnand realized that Vera and Aravi had left their armor behind.

“Would you mind guarding the camp?” he called to Kayla. “The hunters have left a fortune in armor here. I should hate to explain how we let some thief walk off with it while we went fishing. I could leave a summoned daedra here to do the job, but they tend to misbehave when not directly supervised. Unless they are actively engaged in killing something, of course.” He considered for a moment while he yanked on his leggings. “To be fair they do not always follow my explicit instructions in any case.”

An easy stroll brought him to the base of a sheer waterfall. As he anticipated a deep pool lay at its base. Life detection magic showed him the shapes of several large fish lurking under the shallow ledges at the pool’s edge. Something else huddled under a shrub.

He squinted through the magic glow. A fox. No danger.

Water conducted shock energy very well, but unfortunately it tended to skim across the surface, penetrating to a shallow depth only at the point of impact. He needed to lure the larger fish within his spell’s reach.

There was one easy way to lure a slaughterfish. Darnand rolled up his leggings, tucked his robe up under his belt, and stepped into the water. He cast a spell to fortify himself and prepared to time his jump.

One of the big fish angled toward him. Darnand flexed his knees, waiting. When it made its lunge he leaped backward, stunning it with a bolt of energy as soon as his feet found dry sand. The big fish floated up on its side, drifting away toward the riffles where the pool drained into a small river. A quick telekinesis spell allowed him to land it, and he quietly ended its life with a summoned dagger.

His stomach rumbled. This should feed at least two of us on a normal day. Tonight I should think we will need a few more. He turned back to the pool.

Kayla sighed and pulled some clothes out of her pack.

That mage is surrounded by women, and not even a twitch. She furrowed her brow. I don't think he likes women. Unless he likes those soft Cyrodilliic women who faint at the sign of danger.

She dug through her pack to find some clothes that sort of matched. She dried her thick socks out and put them on under her boots and finished dressing.

Maybe it was my scars.

She absently touched the scar across her chest that damaged her skin and muscle across her breasts and collarbone.

Well, either way, no matter how much you admire him, it'll never go anywhere. It's one-sided.

She began to daydream of Nordic mage in Winterhold, and she found the campsite a bit warmer.

Aravi and Vera returned to the camp with their prize, a large ram that Vera shot and killed. Vera wanted to continue hunting, but Aravi convinced her to return with their single kill. They were only staying a night, one animal should suffice. More, and they would only be leaving the meat to rot.

And, Aravi wasn’t sure how much her turbulent stomach would allow her to eat.

I’m going to have nightmares no doubt.

At least they won’t be like the others.

Fatigue was quickly catching up with her as well. If they hadn’t found prey so soon, she would have had to turn around without Vera.

She spotted Kayla before the High Elf spotted them.

“We’re back. Where’s Darnand?”

"Fishing," Kayla replied, stirring the embers. A pile of firewood sat beside her, and she tossed another stick on and raised her brows. They killed a ram. Nice. "He asked me to guard the camp, since everyone's armor and belongings are here. Not that he gave me much of a choice, just walking off before I could even move."

Careful, you're starting to sound bitter. No doubt they heard the tone of her voice change from earlier. She offered a smiled to them.

"Since I'm a glorified watchwoman, I'll gut and skin the meat, if no one objects."

Fishing? How? she wondered.

She didn’t miss Kayla’s tone. Kayla didn’t like being left while everyone else went off.

Aravi glanced at Vera and saw no objection. They unshouldered their burden near the fire.

“Thanks Kayla. For watching our things, and offering to clean the animal. Though it was probably not necessary to leave someone here at the camp. Darnand is overly cautious. In many respects.”

"Hmmm." Was all Kayla said before cleaning the ram. She hoisted it up on a nearby tree with some rope borrowed from Vera. She skinned it first, then carefullly slit open its belly, letting the hot entrails slide out. She yanked them out and cleaned the inside thoroughly before beheading it and tossing the entrails far away. When she got back, the ram was already on its way to being cooked. She rinsed her hands, arms, and legs off in the springs.

Darnand caught a second fish and prepared it for the fire. Lack of practice made his hands slow with the task, but the time alone restored his energy better than a night of sleep. He would need more time to thoroughly reflect on Aravi’s situation, but for now his mind was quiet.

He looked down at his handiwork. Two cleaned slaughterfish neatly wrapped in grape leaves and tied with thin vines, ready for the coals. He filled his waterskins before climbing back up the hill.

At the campsite he found that the hunters had returned, and their kill was already cooking. He placed the fish at the edge of the fire, turning them as he had seen others do so many times. If his observations had been accurate the fish should steam in their wrappings, emerging tender and flavorful from the leaves and the smoke.

He sat back on his heels. This was the difficult part. He supposed he should say something. Making conversation was not his strongest skill. That uneasy feeling crept through his chest.

Darnand cleared his throat. “You caught a goat,” he said.

Aravi was barely awake at this point. She was laying on her side next to the fire, with the smell of roasting meat reminding her just how empty her stomach was.

The others took her transformation much better than she expected, except for perhaps Salyan who left without a word. She honestly didn’t know how she would have reacted to someone transforming, had she been in the other woman’s position.

Even with that, she was feeling apprehensive. They all saw what both she and Vera did. It was horrendous. Would they feel like they have to prevent another massacre like that from happening again? Aravi would have been conflicted, if she were in their position.

Darnand returned with some fish and began cooking them rolled in leaves. “You caught a goat.”

You caught some fish, was what leapt to Aravi’s mind. Instead she said, “Vera got it. I wasn’t very helpful on the hunt.”

Kayla burst into laughter at Darnand's observation.

"Good job, mage. What's next, am I an elf and does Aravi have fur?" She teased with a grin. She turned to Aravi and smiled slightly.

"Well, you're kind of tired, anyone can see that. I was going to just let you sleep and wake you when the food was killed and cooked, but," she shrugged.

"I'm thinking of heading further north," she said casually, adding a few sticks carefully to the fire. "Maybe towards Winterhold. There's a Destruction mage there who says they'll help me hone my skills better."

And a handsome mage who's offered to tutor me.

She didn't realize her cheeks were red.

Aravi’s eyes were closed, so she didn’t have the opportunity to wonder what Kayla was blushing about.

She yawned. “Winterhold. They wouldn’t let me in the last time I was there…”

“Winterhold.” Darnand glanced up at Kayla. “I have— Kayla, do you feel unwell? Perhaps it is the fire’s heat, but you may be feverish. Do you suppose you may have picked up an illness during your ordeal with the Falmer?”

He immediately regretted his words. In his experience women rarely appreciated the suggestion that they might be diseased, no matter the good intention in making it.

“Er… that is to say…” He summoned a dagger and sliced open one of the steaming packets. “Look, this is ready! May I serve anyone some fish?”

Kayla felt her cheeks go even redder at Darnand's observation.

"It's called a blush, Darnand. Maybe one day a woman will do it when she thinks of you."

Oh...gods, that was cruel...

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so sensitive." She apologized. She grabbed the fish from Darnand.

"Did you fail the initial spellcasting test, Aravi? They're a bit picky about who they let in. But not picky enough, considering they've let me in."

Aravi opened her eyes when she heard Darnand and Kayla’s comments.

Kayla was indeed fiery red in the face.

“That day might have already come,” she said, referring to Kayla’s scarlet face. She did not realize that her comment could be interpreted in another way in her tired state.

Then she answered Kayla’s question. “Yes, I failed their little test. I asked to learn more of restoration and illusion. They wanted me to prove my ability by summoning an atronach. I do not know how to do that.”

“That day might have already come,” Aravi said.

Darnand’s felt his own cheeks heat. With an effort he kept himself from looking at Kayla. Then another possibility occurred.

Does she mean..? Darnand glanced at Aravi in surprise and then quickly away again. Surely not. Can Khajiit even blush?

He stood up and dispelled his dagger, then knelt back down again. Then he stood back up.

Do not even think about it. Kharjo would kill you. And you would deserve it.

It was too late to not think about it. Unlikely scenarios including all of the present company had begun to present themselves. Darnand blamed Jerric’s stories for providing the inspiration. Hopefully Kharjo could not read minds. Wherever he was.

Aravi and Kayla were discussing the College of Winterhold. Darnand wished that he had the skill to teleport himself there. Or anywhere.

“That seems a poor test of your abilities, considering your intentions,” Darnand said to Aravi. “Abiene is a Restoration trainer. She has permission to teach spells from the Skyrim school as well as the ones taught at the Arcane University. Though I hesitate to speak for another, I am certain she would share her knowledge with you.”

An image of the Breton in her healer’s robe rose in his mind. I should like to speak with Abiene tonight. Perhaps she will see if I use our crystal balls.

Darnand sat down and picked up a portion of fish. “What spells do you seek in Winterhold?” he asked Kayla. Destruction magic was a fascinating subject, and he tended to get carried away. He hoped he did not sound too eager.

Vera sat idly by the fire as Kayla offered to take care of the meat. She didn't object. She's done enough already.

The meal was savory enough. Between Kayla's obvious blushing and the talk of the College, Vera really saw nothing to be irritated about. It was awhile before she decided to go and tear into the goat meat. After she was done, she expected to return to Cyrodiil and get the rest of her payment for a job well-done.

The Breton's lack of social skills made her groan inwardly. Then again, who's to say she was any better? Well, she's an Imperial. Having a sharp tongue was in her nature, even though she never made it her primary talent unless it had to do with hunting. And money. Or both at the same time.

She wasn't too caught up in the talk of summoning. She never summoned an atronach before. Or any daedra for that matter. The only thing she's been able to pluck from Oblivion was a skinned bone-wolf to aid her in her travels. She wouldn't make the display here. There was no reason for it, and besides, she didn't want to go about revealing more than she already had to.

They did just see me turn into a giant beast . . .

Vera pondered on that she held part of her meat to roast. She waited too long and the flames not only licked the goat meat but the tip of her hand. She pulled back right away, biting her lip suddenly at the hot feeling. As she took a bite off her food, and drank down water, her pink injuries suddenly began to turn white and her burns faded away after a minute.

"Join the College of Synod," Vera said after awhile. "You get in quick, learn what you can and go about your life."

"Healing," Kayla answered Darnand. She blew gently on a bite of fish. "And more Destruction, of course. I feel like if you have the power to hurt, you need the balance of a restorative magick. Something with less scarring."

She turned to Vera and raised a brow. "The Synod is more reigned in than even the Mages Guild. You can't even use Conjuration with the Synod, and they like to use their powers to influence politics. I'd much rather study in a more relaxed environment, where learning more is the main goal. The College of Winterhold holds no bars against certain magicks. Not even Necromancy."

Darnand looked at her in surprise. Something she said made him uncomfortable… What? I’m so tired, I probably did say something odd…

She yawned again.

Aravi listened to the others discuss magic, and schools. Magic was something new to her, and her skill with it was lacking. In Morrowind she had worn a bracer that stunted any magic, preventing her from casting anything had she known any spells. She had only begun practicing after she escaped to Cyrodiil.

She knew simple healing spells, but she practiced them enough to be able to do a lot with them. There were many situations though, where they simply were not enough. Like Vera’s eye. She felt cheated after she was denied entrance to the college.

Though perhaps she could try getting in again…

“They allow necromancy?” She frowned. She hadn’t met a necromancer yet that didn’t try to turn her into a corpse.

"Well, they allow anything as long as you clean up your own messes, don't blow anyone up, on purpose, at least, and are there to actually learn for the sake of learning. I wonder who was watching the gate that day. Did you get the Altmer woman? She's a little...racist." she looked a bit ashamed, not for hr own sake, but for the discrepancies that plagued her race. Their own xenophobia would be their downfall one day, she knew it, and she wasn't willing to be lumped in with them and take a fall as well.

"She only asked me to make a small fireball, something nearly every Altmer has an ability to do from childhood. Why don't you come with me? I can teach you conjuration on the way, or make it to where she doesn't expect you to do something unfair."

“I don’t remember who it was,” Aravi said, though she did remember it was an Altmer.

“I think I would like to go to Winterhold with you.” She smiled. The whole wolf business didn’t seem to bother Kayla anymore. Aravi remembered the look of horror on her friend’s face…

“You have the soul gems needed, correct? Do you need me down in Cyrodiil right away?” she asked Darnand.

She finally sat up and picked at some of the roast goat.

Darnand attempted to answer Aravi’s question without inadvertently sharing any details with the group.

“Indeed, we have exceeded our goal for the gems. I am most pleased with the results of this expedition. I will deliver them, if you like. It will more than likely be months before you need return to Cyrodiil, though I am certain that you will receive reports in the interim at your home in Skyrim.”

He guessed it had been Faralda who had treated Aravi badly at the College of Winterhold. The Destruction trainer was hungry for advancement and sometimes took her frustrations out on applicants. Her willingness to tolerate Darnand was directly proportionate to the amount of coin he had spent learning spells from her.

“True necromancy is not taught openly at the College, or at least it was not when I last studied there. Raising undead in the Winterhold manner is more akin to summoning. The soul of the deceased is called back to animate the body. This of course brings back a person’s awareness. As a result the practitioners…”

This was probably one of those subjects ‘not suitable for mealtime discussion.’ Darnand changed the course of his remarks.

“It is prudent to understand the weapons of one’s enemy. If one has studied Conjuration and has enough power one might wrest control of the zombie away from the necromancer as the body is being raised, turning it against them.” He gave the flames a grim smile, remembering. “I must confess it is most satisfying to do so.”

Darnand tossed the empty leaves into the fire and glanced around at the others. “You have noticed that junior members of a cult often occupy the outer fringes of a cavern system? If you kill them first and then raise them, they often in turn raise their own minions to serve at your side in the battle against their leaders.”

Of course the opposite side of that coin did not bear discussion. He had more than once awakened in a sweat having dreamt of unwillingly killing his friends, either as an enthralled corpse or as the last survivor of a misadventure fighting for his life.

He looked up at the darkening sky. “I suppose we should stand watch. What do you think is most likely to attack us during the night?”

Influencing politics with magic and the arcane. Kayla's comment on the College of Synod brought her back to when she worked for a man named Draken Decumus of the Imperial Palace. A known spellcaster, a bit of a mystic, and unbeknown to most, a vampire dressing as a mortal. With what she's seen in his office, she didn't want to imagine how long he's been playing that game. Everything was organized, covert and clandestine. She was glad not to be part of that world, as much as it tried to affect her.

The wilderness is bad enough.

The conversation went on about necromancy and other things but Vera kept mostly quiet until Darnand looked up at the shadowing sky and said, "I suppose we should stand watch. What do you think is most likely to attack us during the night?”

Vera tossed a bone into the flames. "Me. If you guys snore during your sleep." There was just a hint of a tease in her voice. But only a bit.

She got to her feet, brushed off the scraps of food on her lap, and looked out into the horizon. "You can get some shut eye. I'll stand watch."

She didn't doubt the mages ability to keep watch, or Kayla's. Hell, she didn't even doubt Aravi's, as she was a khajiit and a lycanthrope. But Vera never got much sleep anyways, and she liked to think and watch things.

"Trolls. Sabrecats. Wolves, maybe."

She would mention werebears, but they were driven away by the werewolves. Bastard's are taking up residence in Solstheim. She didn't think one would stumble here, but there was always that small possibility.

"Vampires," Vera said. "Sadists, rapists, cultists. You'll find just about everything at night here."

The list went on. But she really didn't think anything would come by, and if it did, it would either be cats or wolves or trolls. The other specimens were too spread-apart and localized in other areas of Skyrim.

The fact that Darnand knew about Necromancy in such detail that he could distinguish between two types made Kayla uncomfortable. Maybe it was that, coupled with Aravi's indirect, and most likely unintentional, accusation that someone in the came was already thinking blush-worthy thoughts about Darnand. She wouldn't lie to herself (though she'd lie to the others, for sure) that the mage with them was certainly attractive to her by the sheer knowledge he possessed. Were he a bit better at socializing, or at least aware that she was indeed a female, she'd make a better move towards him. Much better than the vague attempt she had made back at the inn.

She ran a hand through her shoulder-length auburn hair and sighed. "Vera's right, anything can happen out here, but I highly doubt anything will. With two werewolves in our midst, not much with a keen sense of smell will really dare to do much. The most we'd have to worry about, at least tonight, will be keeping the fire going."

She blew a lock of hair out of her eyes. "And maybe a few bandits." She poked the fire. "Maybe a dragon." She laughed. "We're gonna be fine."

Tonight while everyone's sleeping, I'll be thinking about Onmund. I wonder if wolves can smell when someone's aroused. She felt even more uncomfortable at the thought. Maybe not tonight. I've waited four years before ever relieving myself of stress. I can wait a few months.

Darnand reported that they had gotten more than they needed to proceed. Aravi was relieved. After everything that happened this time… she wasn’t very eager to go again anytime soon.

“Yes, please do deliver the gems for me. If I am going to Winterhold, then it would be best to start from here than to go to Cyrodiil and back.”

Aravi knew Darnand had some knowledge of necromancy. With someone else, she might have felt uncomfortable with the depth of knowledge he displayed.

Darnand then suggested someone stand watch. Vera volunteered. Again, Aravi was relieved. She was close to collapsing as it was. If she kept watch, she would be in for a long, hard night.

Vera seemed to have boundless energy after her transformation, as if it rejuvenated her. She might have even been in a good mood, if that was possible.

Aravi was sore and tired, she felt like she had been in battle all day. She assumed this was normal for a werewolf, until she saw Vera. Now she felt that there was something off with her.

Then again, she embraces it. I push it away until I can no longer stand it.

Today’s fight should keep it under control for a long while… maybe even a few months if she was lucky…

She agreed with Kayla about the likelihood of encountering something in the night. “I’ve passed through this area before,” she gestured in the direction of the road. “It’s relatively quiet.”

She got up from her spot and got her bedding. She spread it out on the ground near the fire and crawled inside. Fatigue tugged at her, but bhe remained awake and looked at the stars for a while. She saw the sign of the Lord in the stars. Her sign.

"Do you watch the stars?" she asked the group.

Kayla followed Aravi's lead and prepared for bed. She slid between the covers of her knapsack and smiled at the Khajiit.

"Sometimes. I don't know what starsign is mine, but I think it's The Lady. It's nice to just sit and make shapes."

A dragon? I should very much like to see one.

Darnand decided against sharing that thought with the group. He nodded his acknowledgement to Aravi and finished his preparations for the night.

“I will take second watch,” he said to Vera.

Aravi asked about the stars. Kayla seemed not to have been affected by the sign that marked her birth. Perhaps their influence is not as strong in Skyrim.

“In Sun’s Height I look to The Apprentice,” he replied. “My stars are both a blessing and a curse. I would have become a mage had I been born under any sign, but it was the gift of The Apprentice that allowed me to pursue summoning along with Destruction magic. If I did not have such a well of magicka when I first began to learn spell-casting I suppose I would have focused more on my studies and stayed out of the field.”

Darnand lay back and looked at the stars. He had no concerns about returning to Cyrodiil on his own. Without a friend watching his back he would keep his focus on the road and its dangers. Soon he would be back among his books, sometimes with Abiene at his side. He wondered how she had fared with her preparations.

She listened to the others with curiosity. She loved the stars and the moons.

“Is there some reason for the sign each person gets?” she wondered aloud.

“They are so pretty. They seem brighter in the sky the farther north you go.”

Kayla leaned on one elbow and looked at Darnand. "My sign is only a guess. And growing up with no other Altmer around, I don't know what's normal for abilities or not. I think my Ma only gave me The Lady as a sign because that's when they found me." She looked back up at the stars.

I wonder what it's like to be so certain of your birth sign. Do you feel a tug in your heart when you see the constellations? Her brow furrowed as she put her arms behind her head. I wonder how people like me find out their signs.

"I'll take third watch." she said absently.

“I don’t know if the Lady is different, but the Lord is the same for me as it is for other races.”

Kayla turned her head towards Aravi. "What do you mean, the same?" It was a genuine question. "As in, you get the same abilities that the other races do?" She chuckled at the thought of the gods piking favorite races. Then again, she didn't know much about the gods. Perhaps they did have favorites. All she knew for certain was that daedra did choose favorites, and were often unfair in doing so, lumping each individuals of a race together as if they all had one thing that made them the same. Besides general appearances, of course.

"The sign affects me the same way it affects everyone else that is born under it," she said while absently playing with her earring.

She realized it was the same ear that was ruined and Abiene healed. She felt the surface of the ear for any signs of its former injury. None.

On the Road South, Some Time Later

Darnand shifted uncomfortably on the wooden plank. The wagon lurched over a rut, sending him sliding into the side rail. Another bruise on top of bruises. When it was time to renew his life detection spell he also healed his aching hip and tailbone. A few moments’ ease at least. The next spell I craft will be Summon Seat Cushion.

Signing on as a spotter with a caravan had been a stroke of good fortune. Not only were his ride and meals free as far as Bruma, but he would be paid for his efforts. So far they had encountered one group of raiders. With the caravan guards obviously alert to the danger they had passed through the would-be ambush without incident. Darnand wondered if some of the guards would circle back and attack the bandits. He had heard that clearing out camps was a large part of their job, and the loot they recovered an important supplement to their income.

The hills and hollows ahead were free of any life signs larger than a fox. Darnand gave the signal to the lead rider. For a few moments he was free to let his mind wander.

The expedition to Lost Knife Hideout had been a success, as he had expected. They had harvested enough magicka to fuel months of experiments. Abiene had not shared the details of Aravi’s situation, only the needs of her research. Darnand could draw his own conclusions.

Aravi’s lycanthropy had come as a complete surprise. Darnand had to credit Abiene’s ability to keep a secret, for surely she must know. The implications for Aravi’s future children were beyond Darnand’s knowledge. Someone must know, perhaps Aravi herself. It was not something he felt at liberty to ask her, but he resolved to find out.

Vera’s lycanthropy explained a lot. Darnand set that piece of information away deep within his mind where it would not be readily discovered. His activities often put him in mental contact with others, some of whom could not be trusted.

Another curiosity was Kayla’s bright sword. It carried the unmistakable whiff of Daedric power. Meridia, if Darnand’s sense of the Lady of Infinite Energies had not faded. Also a subject to carefully avoid. Darnand had returned to Arkay’s grace, but he suspected that Meridia would not be as forgiving. He would prefer to remain outside her notice. Though he might have much in common with another mortal who had carried her token, the connection should not be made. He had no idea what Kayla would be called to do if she actually was Meridia’s champion.

Darnand gripped the rail as the wagon tipped to the other side, sending him sliding toward the driver. The Nord was a mountain of fur, stench, and phlegm, and Darnand intended to keep contact between them to a minimum. Though he had to admit the man made an excellent wind break, and some of his jokes were worthy of repeating, so long as the audience had sturdy sensibilities.

That thought led his mind to Salyan. Darnand had enjoyed her reserved company as much as her astonishing command of Audiomancy. He regretted her sudden departure, but he could not fault her for it. The incident in the cage had shaken all of them save Vera. He suspected that most folk would not want to continue in a party with two known werewolves.

The driver took a pull from his wineskin and passed it to Darnand. “Wanna hear a joke about my stick?” he asked.

“Indeed,” said Darnand. “I have been hoping for another one.” He resisted wiping the neck on his sleeve. Any diseases he picked up on the road could be cured all at once later. The wine scalded his throat but warmed him all the way through.

“Hah!” crowed the driver. “Forget it, it’s too long.”

Darnand gritted his teeth against the elbow in his ribs. “Ha ha. That is a good one.” He scanned the road ahead and then the hills on either side. Until we meet again, my friends. Safe journey to you all.

Adventure complete. Would a moderator kindly close this thread.