"You are a funny one, Krist Lindor. Wake up to a beautiful wood elf and getting sick," Belwin said, grinning as she stoked the hot coals, creating a fire. "Was it something I said, or something you did to me."
Krist was rubbing snow on his face, which was helping the nausea to pass. He wasn't even sure of what it was that came from his stomach as he emptied it, but it was very foul.
He was also not sure he ever really heard the Bosmer speak so much. He could not stop gagging long enough to even ask her any questions. He pulled the blanket from his back as his stomach churned again, but he had nothing left in him.
"It will pass," Belwin said, almost as if reading his mind. "You will need to be more picky about what you eat from now on."
Krist did not remember eating anything in particular.
"Get some more rest while I cook. We are safe enough here for the day, but we need to probably move out by tomorrow."
Krist looked to Belwin, who was now dressed in her dark leather jerkin and and breeches that were above her knees. She wore laced up black boots that covered to the top of her calves, also a dark leather. None of it was ornamental, but something about them told Krist that they were not simple clothes.
"The snow stopped, but it will be colder tonight," Krist heard her say as he climbed back under the fur bedding. "I will wake you to sup, you will need to since you have nothing left on your stomach."
With that, Krist drifted to sleep.

Belwin put more wood on the fire. She knew the kind to use to produce less smoke, and make it more white so it would be harder to detect by people. Krist would be very vulnerable right now, so she needed to protect him as much as possible while she hunted. She knew it would not take her long, but because of the fire, she would need to hunt a little further away than she wished. Keeping him alive was very important to her at this time. Her plans of revenge on the knight changed when the undead stormed the farm that Krist and the rest were staying on. While she was able to keep an eye on Krist, she had no idea if the others were even alive. She hoped Bith was, and maybe even the boys, but she really did not care if Holly was alive or not.
A part of her hoped the woman was really dead.
Belwin cooked what little dried meat she had with some herbs and onion grass she found. It was just enough for her, and she needed the energy to be able to hunt. Besides, Krist could not eat right then anyway.
Belwin looked to the furs that Krist was now completely buried under. He sure was not what she thought he would be. She expected him to be harsh, stern, and hypocritical, something most knights were that she actually met. Instead he was kind, gentle, and honorable.
Never mind that, she would stick to her plan. She would have her revenge, for what he did to her. He killed Red. While she had many lovers in her life, some welcomed and some forced, Red was the only man she ever really loved. She did not to wish to kill Krist for what he did, that would be too easy. She wanted to make sure he felt what she felt when Red died.
If Holly was dead, he would know how she felt. He loved Holly very much, and as soon as he was awake and strong, he would be out to search for her.
She also knew his secret now, something he probably spent years protecting. She was not sure how she did not know this about him until now. She needed to find a way to use that against him.
"Unless he thought Holly was dead", Belwin said really low to herself, as a smile began to form on her face. "What if he thought it was he that killed her."

Krist sat with the blankets around him, staring at the fire. Belwin told him that she was not sure what happened to Holly and her family, but that he was in no shape to pursue a people that left in a direction he would not know.
"Krist, I looked for them all day yesterday. They are gone," Belwin said, rather matter of fact.
"What happened," Krist asked, looking to her for answers.
"You know what happened. We were attacked by the undead. You saw the house burning down. I am not even sure if they made it. You collapsed from the arrows in you and I dragged you away," the wood elf handed the warrior some rabbit meat cooked with wild herbs. It was a nutritious meal.
Krist frowned, and really did not feel like eating. He took the meal anyway. His time spent as a soldier taught him not to let emotions get in the way.
"I know your secret Krist," Belwin blurted out.
Krist looked to her, not sure what she meant at all.

The moment Belwin said it, she knew he did not know his own secret. She was wrong, he was not protecting his secret, he did not know he was lycan.
"What do you mean," Krist asked, looking to the wood elf.
"You don't know," she said, and had to force herself not to smile.
"I don't know what? I do not feel like playing games, so please, just say it," Krist said, and ate some more of his food.
"You are lycan, Krist. You are a werewolf. You do not remember what happened because you changed," Belwin said, as Krist looked to her in astonishment.

The term "Lycanthropy" is incorrectly used to refer to any sort of were-creature instead of solely werewolves. Lycanthrope comes from the Greek "lykos" meaning wolf and "ànthrōpos" meaning human. The correct term is therianthropy.

- From the pages of "On Lycanthrope", found in the world of Elder Scrolls

You, you put me to shame. Whatever little nonsense I wrote pales in comparison. m(_ _)m

Our greatest strength is the adversity we have overcome. Our resolve is glacial, our might is forged in fire, and our courage, cultivated by the beasts of the jungle. We are Ebonheart. We are as one. And by this, our victory is assured."
―Blood For The Pact!, Jorunn the Skald-King

Blue Road Keep loomed over the hill. Maybe he had the nightmare of it the night before because this was their destination. He wasn't sure, but it stuck with him still. The Keep itself looked a little different, as repairs had been made and some things added.
It was the closest Keep that was actually occupied by members of the Ebonheart Pact, which would be easier for them to get into. While Belwin was a wood elf, and her people not a part of the Pact, she was more likely to be let in to a Pact controlled Keep than Krist in any of the others.
"Make sure no part of your armor can be seen," Belwin reminded Krist.
Krist nodded. He had already tended to that. His armor was still Imperial, and he would not be tolerated in a Pact controlled Keep.
"We need supplies, this is our best bet," Krist said, though Belwin never did complain. She figured he was questioning himself.
Krist was also in hope that it would be mostly Nords in control of the Keep.

" 'ello brother, what's yer business," the big Nord called from the wall. The postern door was small and thus less manned. Krist hoped this would aid them in getting in, considering there would be fewer people to argue against it.
"I am here for supplies and maybe buy some horses," Krist called back.
The soldier look to him a moment, then looked to the elf.
"And you?"
"She is with me," Krist said. That was not uncommon to see, as adventurers of all walks of life came together.
"I am with the Fighter's Guild," Krist added.
"They aint done nothin' to help us here, but I wont hold that against you," the soldier replied, then looked to someone below him and nodded.
"Come in, the commander will want to talk to you, see if you seen any movement out there of the enemy," the soldier said.
Krist just nodded then entered the postern gate.

"I think we should leave tonight, Krist," Belwin said, obviously not happy about being cooped up in a room.
They were fed, as promised, and shown to their quarters, then told to stay in their quarters until morning.
"Get some sleep Belwin, may be the last night we can sleep dry for a bit. Rain is coming, probably will be here by morning," Krist said, changing into some bed clothes. He was beyond being shy around Belwin.
"I don' like being cooped up," she said, but complained no more.

Lt. Im-Kur did not like something about the strangers, especially the Nord. Something about his smell made the Argonian nervous. His commander was use to his intuitions being right, so naturally she decided to keep a close eye on the two, telling the Argonian to watch them from a distance as they made their way with their things to their room.
It was while watching them that he saw the Imperial armor peeking out from the furs the Nord carried on his back. No one with less than his great knowledge of armor and steel would have even noticed, and Im-Kur himself pretended not to notice until they were in the small room the commander afforded them. He then set two guards to watch over it, and had them command the two to stay in their rooms until they left in the morning.
That was not odd in Keeps, to keep strangers from walking the grounds.

Belwin moved closer to Krist in the bunk they shared. It seemed to be a habit for her now, finding comfort in the big Nord. A part of her felt shame as if she was betraying her dead lover, Red, killed by the very man she now pushed against. Krist always grunted a bit, as if not pleased by her getting so close to him, but he always went back to sleep anyway. The two shared furs over many nights by camp fires, but the furs were all that was shared. He made no move to get closer to her. He had no idea he killed someone, the only one, that she was ever close to.
Belwin heard the thunder start, and she knew it was near day break. They would leave soon enough and she would be back out in the open again, where she liked it. It wasn't her wood elf heritage that made her so much hate being cooped up, it was that this was usually when bad things happened to her. In the open she could run. In the woods she could hide. In the mountains she would find high ground. In this room, she was stuck, and at the mercy of others.
These thoughts were in her mind when she heard the door of the room open. She was dragged from the bunk, even as Krist sat up. She heard the scuffle, but there were a half dozen soldiers and she heard Krist when he fell with a grunt. She hoped he was not dead, even as two soldiers bound her hands in front of her. She tried to resist, but they were Nords, and much bigger than she was. Without her knives and her bow, she was no match for them.

Krist was shoved to the muddy ground in the courtyard of the keep, Commander Scotteta looking down to him from one of the staircase platforms.
"What is this about," he managed, though his ribs hurt tremendously when he did, from the beating he took.
An Argonion tossed his armor to the ground in front of him, as Krist got to a knee. His hands were bound to his back, and there was nothing he could do.
"That was for trade, to get supplies," Krist said, looking past the Argonian to the Commander.
"And what about the Imperials on the march this way, they were for trade as well," the Argonian demanded, kicking Krist back down.
"We don't know anything about that," Belwin called from behind Krist.
"I am Fighter's Guild, not Imperial," Krist said, spitting blood from his mouth.
"That is what he told me," the soldier that allowed him in the keep said. Obviously he was under scrutiny as well.
"All that means is you have no allegiance to anyone," the commander said.
"Which means you have no allegiance to us," the Argonian said, swatting Krist in the face with his clawed hands.
"Im-Kur, that is enough," Commander Scotteta said.

Krist's ears were ringing now, the clawed hand having cut his face open. His head was down as he was apparently trying to gain his senses again, blood dripping into the muddy puddles.
"You gotta let us go, now," Belwin said to the men holding her. They just laughed.
"You gotta let us go," Belwin now called to the Commander. "You gotta let us out of her now."
Commander Scotteta rolled her eyes, there was no way she was letting two possible spies out of her keep, especially with the Imperial army marching her way to possibly lay siege. The Wood Elf barely looked as a child as the rain soaked her tunic that covered her to her bare knees.
She kind of liked the Nord, and hated seeing him like this. He had no shirt on and was only in his britches. What a waste of a good strong man, especially with him being with a Wood Elf.
"He injured two of my men, commander. Let's hang them and be done with it," one of the soldiers called.
Scotteta was a strong commander, but she was not hardhearted when it came to killing others. She could not just order the death of the two if she did not know for sure.
"Put them in a cell until we can determine," she said.
"NO," the wood elf called, this time panic was setting in. "You will all die if you do not let us out of here."
She did not sound as if she was threatening anyone, she sounded as if she was actually scared.
Im-Kur approached the Nord who was starting to growl a bit, Scotteta thinking it was from the injuries. He looked closely then backed up, wide eyed as he looked to the commander.
The Nord began to grow, as the rope holding his hands tight broke apart. At first she thought the man was showing her some kind of great feat of strength, then she realized he was changing.

Finally Belwin was able to slip her hands free from the bindings, a trick she learned years ago. It mattered little how tight they tied her, she usually could get loose in a matter of time. She ripped a dagger from one of the stunned soldier's sheaths and cut him from his belly to his chest bone. She slit the other's throat in one smooth action, not waiting to see if it was deep enough to kill him or not. She was on the move now, heading up some stairs to an archer on the wall, who was notching an arrow to put into Krist, who was changing into a werewolf even as she moved.
She drove the dagger to the hilt in the bowman's neck, taking the bow before the man hit the ground. She took the quill and stayed on the move even as she fastened it on. It was not easy running in her soaked tunic, but it kept the others confused as they tried to locate her and keep an eye on the now full grown werewolf in the courtyard.

"Take it down," Commander Scotteta yelled, running down the steps to assist. She had seen a werewolf before, but never had the pleasure of actually fighting one.
"Pikes, bows...." she yelled, letting them know what they needed to take this creature down. A sword was of little use, as the werewolf's long arms was knocking the soldiers around. She was nearing it as it bit into the head of one of her men, the crunch marking the death of her soldier. She knew her sword was no better than any others against it, but needed to buy them time to set up and kill the creature.
It was then it looked at her, yellow eyes burrowing into her own. It's mouth was dripping saliva and blood, and gore sprayed her as it roared in her direction.
Scotteta froze, something she never did in battle before.