P.S., Farkas doesn't actually wear the armor I described, at least not at this moment in my gameplay. But what if he did O.o?

The monster arose from the pile of dead bodies. I stepped back and screamed.

The monster looked at me before growing loads of lumpy flesh, then desizing into a human being again. I wanted to close my eyes but kept them glued open. He picked up a human being and took off their clothes: back facing me, he dressed. I bit my lip, really wanting to see more than his back.

He turned around, the clothes not fitting too awry. I pressed harder into the wall.

And he advanced. I screamed and asked him not to come closer. He arched his brows downward.

Then he spoke words: real live words. "I'm a werewolf. Yeah. Sorry."

I pushed off the wall and cradled the bars in my hands. "Get me out of here."

He walked to the other side of the room, out of my view. The creak of a mechanism led to the raise of the bars. I stepped out and Farkas was a good meter away from me, and judging my disposition on his race.

"Thank you. Now, for all this trouble you put me through, you must strip again," I said, hopefully.

Farkas gave me the really confused, innocent look and I just pffted. "Forget it," I said, defeated.

He told me to pick up some silver off the Silver Hand. "That's what they're called?" I asked him, glaring at the members that tried to dismember my shield-brother. "Why did they...oh," I noticed my question made no sense in the presence of what just happened. It should be obvious.

"Yeah, they're werewolf hunters."

"Why would you want to be a werewolf?" I twirled a silver sword in my hand. It put a little strain on my midsection to do so but not too much. I placed it in my loose mace hilt, so the sword was hanging by its handle.

"Because...I'm a special Companion Member, a part of the Circle. We were blessed with this...curse."

I noticed from his hesitations that it wasn't something he really cared to speak on. I left the circle of doom, the group of piled bodies, and the stench of blood. I looked back on the stupid cage (of course let up already, but I'm imagining the cage still there) I let myself inside in. I found a lever that was in the entryway of the hall we were now entering. I looked to him. "Can I pull it?"

He smirked. "Yes."

I tried. It wouldn't budge. "You lied."

A small laugh. "I blocked it."

My eyebrows arched downward this time. "How?"

"Magic!" he said, and pulled my arm roughly along with him.

"I can see what your brother meant by you didn't inherit the brains of your elders."

"Is that what he said?" he was more distracted. It made me feel weird and yank my arm back, but he wouldn't let go.

"Dude." I tried again.

"Hm?"

"What's up? You won't let me go."

"'Cause you wreak havoc."

"Says the werewolf everyone's after. What about that armor they talked about?" I glanced him up and down and didn't see anything too...special.

"It's werewolf armor. I wore it as a symbol against the Silver Hand today."

"No wonder why they attacked you, dunce."

The things scattered on the floor didn't help us sound less loud whatsoever in this cairn. We were a cacophony of sounds, tripping over ancient pottery, stepping on ancient dead rats and some bones. Bones that obviously didn't come from the embalmed dead: maybe they were from trespassers, before. I ended up pushing him down almost from tripping into him accidentally since he didn't want to let me go.

"What do you mean, today? You don't wear that armor always?"

"No," he laughed. "I'm not trying to attract them 24/7."

"Definitely a dunce," I calculated, still notably in his rough hands and not fearful of his probable-coming backlash. "You are definitely stronger than your brother," I said as an afterthought.

"Humph," he said in a renewed sense of pride.

He let go of me eventually, because the tunnels were getting small and we had to balance ourselves. "We need to be careful in areas like these -"

An arrow flittered past his head and I crouched, taking him down with me.

"Shh," he sounded and then motioned with his finger to make sure I got be quiet down. And I showed him my silent abilities with a slight roll of my eye.

His sneak was so incognito that when he crept behind the guy that had shot the arrow, he didn't even notice Farkas was behind him, and neither did the guy's partner who was in an enthralled conversation with the guy: hundreds of of pounds of Farkas' broadsword went crashing into the man's skull. Only then did I know things were about to go down.

The cry of the man made me jerk and yell to Farkas. He could only react enough to yank his sword out of the man's head - I yelled again, knowing it wouldn't be enough time. The battleaxe of the other bandit went for Farkas' head and with a strangled battlecry, and I, unknowing of what to do, went to cradle Farkas' head.

Farkas growled in dissatisfaction and struggled with his sword a bit more 'till it loosed, then swung in an broad direction. The clang of metal made me open my eyes and yet I still froze at the sight of the two pairs of strong (one burly, one lean) arms blocking with steel and iron. Farkas ducked and sent me sprawling. I hit the floor with my shoulder, hard, and he exhaled hard as he began to lift his sword, the bandit copying his movement.

"Arrg!" I sprinted forward from the ground and rammed the bandit to the cool, stoney floor. Thanks to his unsteady weight disposition from the rise of the axe of course : now he was in a disadvantage.

I tusseled with the guy who wouldn't let a woman wearing an incomplete set of Dwarven armor take him down to Sovngarde. Well, I'm sure that was on his mind. I pasted his hands to the ground, both under one of my hands and above his own head, and I took the mace out of my hilt and cried, "Companions rule!" and began to pummel his head.

This mace made every attack more brutal than I could imagine: I'm glad I took it - the pull on my stomach didn't urge me to stop smacking his gelatin face with my stone-hard tool. The flesh emitted was white and red, and the blood splurted every way but I didn't care: it was my honor to spill his lifeblood. I got up from him, and my eyes watered, not from his blood though.

But when I did get off of him, I guess he still was alive: he kicked me hard in the calf since I'd turned away from him, and I ended up falling backwards from the awkward bend of my knees that concurred and striking my skull hard, sideways, against the cold floor. Farkas croaked my name once, I noticed, before I shifted to my back and stared at the ceiling, inactive.

I could see Farkas spring forward from before me while I was down here and land a punch on the bandit's already-deformed face. The bandit's face smashed against the cave wall behind me and Farkas growled and yelled which mixed into the bandit's yelling.

The sound of mushy skin against firm, hard knuckles did sound gorey to my pleasure, and when Farkas dropped to me he could see me smiling, and he shook me, thinking I was dazed beyond comprehension. "I, I understand everything find. I'm just happy you served wha wuz coum to'm..." I began to slur words and he shook me harder. I receded from the blackness that started to corner my mind.

I held his arms firmly as he raised me up, and we decided to camp here. He told me to wait as he scouted out a little further. I couldn't fear for him. I went to sleep, and my unconscious noted him back. He sat near me and cradled my arms. Ad he snoozed.

"It's time for us to continue -"

I opened my eyes and rubbed my head. I felt noticeably better, hours later - my eyesight was clear and I felt refreshed. Maybe I needed a nap.

I got up with his help, and my arm over his shoulder, I looked into his grimy face, the dried blood still crusted in his beard, and at the shiny metal he wore. It did have some detail unlike the normal steel armor we mercenaries wear. Its warm brownness blended with the mahogany fur lining beneath, which stretched over his man parts like a loincloth. His boots were plain and matching steel: though a furry mahogany tuft emerged from the crown of each of them, reminding me of his wolf side. It was the honor of the Companions, I guess, for Eorland to make a whole armor set based on it. As the werewolf-head lining the neck of his breastplate showed: and whatever face I hope was a werewolf that existed on the raised steel of his gauntlets also did.

I continued fighting more enemies, left and right, and was feeling fine. The enemies packed a punch with their load of silver swords and I had to let Farkas take some of the damage. He was fine, wiping the blood off of his brow from a sword-pushing-against-sword round with a now dead Silver-Hand member. Why did they live in caves under cairns, anyway?

But we came to a tunnel that not only had a man pop out of a coffin - nearly scared Farkas to death - but that once I went through, I had to shield Farkas from the firing of arrows. I swept past afterwards and into the deeper depths of the tunnel. People, many people. I pulled out a scroll from my sack and summoned an atronarch with the words written on it - the fiery thing that was the mirror of a similar creature the cultists that had encountered me long ago with now came to my aid and blasted fire in the Silver-Hand faces nearest. I shot arrows with ditance between me and them all, and eventually, I noticed it was not enough to hold them down. I pulled out another scroll -

"Farkas," I said to the main hauling damage, "I'm going to paralyse you all."

"Wha?" He said before I chanted the words and the bodies before me fell back and forward and down with horror stricken on their faces. I didn't think about how much that hurt - I just ran.

Into a corner. The men and woman facing me were over their paralysis - and the door aside me was locked.

I swung my mace and then my flames - enough to run, run away and never come back.

I finally met Farkas on my way back, and I did not stop to tell him to watch out for the bodies around him - they rose and attacked for me at my heed. Purple surrounded me and the figures stared at the glow as they awoke and stood to their feet. Back, farther from my enemies that had not yet followed me back into the recesses of the tunnel, I let them come to me - and my minions and them began the fight.

~~~~

I awoke to Fakas hovering over me with a towel in hand, smudging the dried blood off my unhelmeted forehead which would be otherwise if he hadn't been around: my helmet never goes off. So whatever happened yesterday must've been a big thing, couldn't even remember what was going on, or why I'm sitting here against the floor and wall, now, with him crouched near me trying to resuscitate my previous well-being into life.

I snatched his wrist up and pushed it away from me. He backed back as I stood, and he dropped the towel. "Pick that up," I told him. He did, and I took it and put it in his pocket, mumbling about his ruining a "perfectly good towel" by dropping it on the floor. Afterwards, I explained in one sentence, "No one heals me but me, or Farengar."

He nodded. "But that nasty gash on your head, it's...needed cleaning."

"Yeah. But the blood makes me look nothing to reckon with. Wiping it off just makes me look like a sissy."

He bent his head down. "I'm sorry, sister."

I grinned a, "Thanks," and walked towards the double doors that held our alive foes, stepping over dead bodies to get to them.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm goin' a scout the area." I opened the doors. "See, they're down there pointing arrows, I bet. Yeah: I can see one of them, now. They think they've got us, but they've got a whole other thing coming."

"You sure? In this condition we are both in? They are fresh bodies, we are injured ones."

"Lighten up, Farkas. Just because you got chopped in the leg and maybe your other limbs a few times doesn't mean you can't continue. Be happy and grateful you are alive," I turned back around to face him with my pretty smile. I coughed, and before I could finish, closed the double doors so the enemies wouldn't hear. As I coughed, everything became blurry at the extent of my heartbeats, so every time my pulse sounded, a ripple effect was created on everything I saw. I held onto the door panel and breathed, then pointed to my bag on the floor near Farengar. He searched through it for what I needed and threw it. I'd be angry if neither of us had good aim or catch, but I caught his throw with ease and started to horker down the substance.

Stupid concussion. It returned after what I did yesterday, which I didn't know after all of the resuscitating and things. was too stubborn to ask what had happened.

I threw the potion bottle back at him, and I coughed again. This time, blood emerged. I wiped it on my trousers though so I wouldn't have any of Farkas' hindering precaution to deal with. I tried some deep breathing, but my vision wouldn't clear.

I noticed my blood pressure was going fast, perpetually, like a beaver's paddling feet, so I just sat down and watched Farkas rush up to me while I was hyperventilating.

He began to examine my head, and feel me for wounds. I passed out again before waking up to Farkas' water. I was rather more controlled now, as when I first woke up today. I couldn't stand having another episode. I already fainted the day before, and now, today? I could understand yesterday, though, just not now.

"Farkas," I said, groggily, "you're not supposed to let people sleep with a concussion and you let me sleep with a concussion?"

He stopped mid-way screwing his canteen closed to open his mouth for an invisible answer.

"It's okay," I cut him off. "I probably healed from the sleep anyway. Probably needed it." I took his hand and he pulled me up.

"I did kinda let you sleep yesterday, too," he began. "I should've checked to make sure you had one. I thought maybe you did, but even so, you needed rest. You were tired. And if you died or continued unrested, it would help neither of us out."

I noticed I'd been sitting on that grimy floor. Eww. I said I wouldn't even sit on it. "I'll get in one of those coffins and sleep next time than sleep on this floor. In fact, I could move one of those draugr over and sleep in one of the catacombs."

He groaned.

"Whatever, to each his or her own," I said, then began doing some basic exercises to see where I was at. My vision didn't spin, and my breath stayed steady, now. "I don't know what happened earlier today," I proclaimed.

Farkas looked at me as he did some minor stretching and cardio, too, and I smiled sideways. He looked away. "So, you ready now?" He said, quite humorously staring at the floor.

"Sure. I am." I grabbed him by his arm after slinging my satchel over my shoulder and helmeting myself and pulled him to the double doors of our enemies' fate.

"What's wrong?" I said.

"You were coughing up blood.

"How do you know?"

He gave me the you-know-what.... mouth. I gave him an angry stare, and ignored him. "Whatever. I'm going to use my resources before we go."

"Which ones?"

I glowed my hands in violet and let his expression fill me with some same mischievous feelings of yesterday. The dead Silver Hand and Restless-class Draugr rose in unison and moaned inexplicable horrific things towards the dank ceiling.

"Okay," Farkas seemed to jerk a little in fright.

I ran towards the deeper end of the tunnel, him explaining to me that I was knocked out again yesterday, and I having downed some of the archers outside the double doors. I was going back to take revenge: I didn't care what happened yesterday. We all began fighting the Silver Hand, again, that existed in the middle of the tunnel we ran through last time to get to other rooms. They fiercely parried my followers' attacks, and my grip on my Nordic Bow increased as I aimed at a Silver Hand in want of killing him. Another Silver Hand came out of my blindspot (where I was closing one eye), though, and pushed me down. I pummeled the man's head with my hands and took his neck in a split second and swiveled my hips so that I was on top of him, and smashed his head repeatedly into the earth. He, unconscious, was left so I could attend to more important matters.

Farkas was holding off his share of villain well, and I decided to go swinging with my mace, no talk of yesterday of what happened. It didn't matter. Heads jerked to the side from the force of it, now. That included split lips and cut eyes. For the most part, I only had two villains left to kill since my team handled well the others; what I liked to revel in.

Farkas gave me a high five and squeezed my hand and we shook each other's hard, then continued down the tunnel. Upon entering an empty room, I was able to actually loot some containers. I used my last lockpick trying to open up a mysterious door, though, and Farkas came around the side of me stuffing his face in an ancient apple to cringe at my unresolved curiosity. "I'm quite unhappy this happened to you but we need to continue -"

"Sure. You get an apple and I get a few stray poisons and health tonics -"

Here," He waved his hand at a sack held up by the wooden desk I'd plundered.

"I don't want no apple," I said at his suggestion, then continued into the next room. It was actually the room that I'd ran away from, yesterday. I stepped in it cautiously enough to get an aim at one of the Silver Hand, and Farkas did the same. I ended up head-shoting and Farkas hit one man in the crouch. I guess it was as deadly. "Good job, Farkas," I said, and smiled and let out a battle cry as I drew my mace.

There was violence. Blood spilled on the floor and caught on fire like gasoline as I spread flames in several directions to kill the opponents. I kissed my mace and put it back in its holster since I could very well use my fire as well and not have to swing the duration of my fights. Once the fires died down from the blood being charred, we wiped the sweat off ours brows. I noticed, looking around, and disappointed, that my followers had returned to littering the ground. And were the items that were actually still on fire rather than the blood. And now that practically everyone in here died, they could all be my followers, too.

I got a raggedy burial cloth off the staircase that raised to one side of the wall and began patting out the flames. "My bodies," I said, endearingly, kissing each of their foreheads after I put out each of their flames.

Farkas got a burial cloth in hand but stood ultimately still at my efforts...like he wanted to but couldn't participate. His hands shook, and when I looked to him after smothering all the body-fires, he dropped his cloth on the ground. "I would demand a reason for your hesitance," was my response.

Farkas began to stumble over his words and, blushing, walk to the door that would lead to the next room. I followed him, and pasted my hands to his shoulder pads. "Peachface."

"Get off me with your icky hands," he shoed me away.

I bit my lip and understood that maybe he didn't like my mechanism for fighting. But more manpower was what would get us through this tunnel, "Or they'll run us through," I said aloud.

"Who? The Silver Hand? Well isn't it ironic you're using them to fight each other?" His breathing sped, and I stepped away, removing my hands from his armor.

"Farkas, you're here to test me. This is what I do -"

"We're trying to test Companions, not magicians."

"I am a Companion." At that, he wouldn't look at me. I didn't care. I nudged past him, and ended up emerging through to another area of the tunnel that included catacombs that I searched and earned a Dwarven dagger from, and then a bridge where some draugr were involved. I moved away as he dealt with the first skeleton, because if he was afraid of dead bodies, I was afraid of draugr. The next draugr that popped up I showed my Ancient Nord Bow from long distance and the weird being dropped down off the bridge, then, the waters of the waterfall's water beneath us washing over it. Yeah, the creature needed a bath, I could tell all the way from over here. I neared Farkas on the bride and he pointed to the bottom of the bridge. We went down there and noticed something that surprised me. Gargantuan eggs.

After Farkas sitting in the corner, post-him-trying to fend off the smaller spider that existed over here, I swaggered to his side and dropped my mace. "Whew. What a load of spider that was."

He looked at his wrist, held it, his glare so strong that I nudged him in the shoulder with my knee. "What's wrong?"

"Th-e spider, it almost hurt me."

My eyes grew cynical. "You're afraid of spiders?"

"Of poisonous ones, yes." I just dealt with the biggest one, the mommy one I believe, and its creepy legs and mouth did not phase me. I was just...a little surprised of its "entrance" from behind one of the larger blue-veined eggs of its offspring.

"That's what they all say," I squatted in front of him. He looked up from his invisible spider scratch and his frown sagged beyond belief. "Are you serious, Farkas? Are you that upset?"

He pushed me out of the way so he could rise. When he did, he silently walked to the next part of the Cairn - a door he detected and didn't tell me about. "Ah, nice entrance," I said, and went through the tunnel it led us through. The tunnel led to the catacombs we just left. I was extremely confused. "Um, Sir Farkas, how will we find our way out of here?"

"Go where we haven't," he said almost immediately. We opened a door that led to a room of an enchanter's desk and a load of dead, rolled up in death cloths, corpses. A screech made me touch my mace hilt and then I set the threat on fire while I was struggling to get my mace unsheathed. Several skeevers, or gigantuan rats (as big as wolves), jumped at my face and I stepped back into Farkas as I made distance between me and the skeevers. Farkas shouldered past and slung his sword at one. He caught on fire thanks to my off-guard way of handling these things, and yelled as he tried to pat himself off. I knocked the flame gig off and unsheathed my mace finally and knocked the last skeever in the jaw - it was thrown into the wall opposite me. I aided Farkas in de-firing himself, finally. "So sorry Farkas. I won't use my fire anymore."

He grunted a "Mm-hm," and I folded my hands properly in shame. Began to scrutinize the wrapped bodies - and then my hands began to work. I carefully unwrapped them, knowing that putting my back to him as I did it would probably make him feel less weird. The stench of these mummies didn't bother me as much as I thought it would - the mummified dead were nothing less of the smell of a draugr which permeated the very cairn. Gold - it was the first thing I found. Next, I found a ruby. I took them both and kissed them and hug them close, then packed them in my satchel. Everything here was sacred. These were Skyrim's warriors, buried in the dust.

Eventually, I was able to experience the glory of fighting with Skyrim's warriors: at least, almost. I was being protective and didn't put up that much of a battle. Headshots, arm shots, and whatever shots rang through the walls of the crypt that housed countless draugr as I pulled my bowstring. The numbers were sometimes cornering me and huddling around Farkas, where he'd swing his sword in wide circles to rid them. I could only block with my bow it became so bad, and then, pushing them out of the way via it, I pulled out my mace and began to crack open the Ancient Nordic skulls. The bodies fell lifeless to the ground as if they had a brain, and that control center was defeated. Gods be praised the draugr bodies didn't have some sort of hand-still-crawling-around-on-the-ground effect.

"Farkas," I said, aiming my bow in front of him while my radius was clear. I got his attention, but humorously he thought it proper to duck: then I shot the draugr down, some of whom began to turn towards me and attack. They didn't get as far as that last word. 'Cause some of them were missing heads and others of them were suffering from critical wounds which stole the life out of them, immediately by that time. I did once hear in a novel about draugr, it's clear that the draugr carry only the barest whisper of life in them. Farkas arose from the crypt floor and rubbed some warmth into his arms. The source of life was taken from all of the draugr that rested here. Hopefully, they'd rest in peace. And pieces.

Farkas roughly ejected the lid of the coffin in front of us, and for a moment it startled me: but the exit to another tunnel existed in the coffin, instead of what I thought. "Farkas, how did you -?"

He flipped the fragment of Wuuthrad in his hand - yes, what we came here for - and said, "It's all in the legend."