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It took Shadow the better part of half an hour to bandage his shoulder, and after that he didn't feel much like sleeping. But the choice was taken away from him as he stared up at the stars, and he eventually passed out from blood loss and pain. In the morning, he was feeling well enough to tell Ralas what had happened. Surprisingly, the mage was awake- and as Shadow had guessed, he was not happy with the choices the Master Assassin had made.

You realize that Hircine will be able to read your thoughts when you transform. This scheme is ill advised.

Would you try a new spell on Nenya without trying on yourself first? The Dark Elf mage and the High Elf healer had an on again off again relationship, a well known fact to the higher ranking Shadowswords.

No. But that doesn't make this a good idea. You will be testing your will against that of a Daedric Prince, and even if you can resist the urges then your health will suffer for it.

Is there anything that would prevent me from killing other werewolves? There was a long pause after that one. Shadow had actually thought this through a little bit, and had some idea of what he would do once the transformation took hold. The witches might be sure of their magic, but they had not said a word when Shadow had requested three cures- it wasn't their loved ones that needed saving...

Finally, Ralas wrote back. How long are you going to keep this up?

Three nights,_Shadow responded. _That will leave a week until the Bloodmoon.

Then I wish you good luck, Ralas responded after a long moment. No one since your ancestor has attempted to match wills with the Lord of Werewolves.

Shadow closed the Black Book, and put it away. He had three days to make preparations, and he knew that he would need all of that time to prepare for the contest with Hircine. Midnight had written about the contest he had had when the Grandmaster had bitten him during that particular escapade. Hircine had attempted to take control of Midnight when he transformed, but the black Khajiit had managed to resist the Daedric Prince's efforts and managed to avoid the random killing that werewolves were known for. For almost two weeks, Midnight had struggled against Hircine before managing to find the witches and the cure for lycanthropy. It gave Shadow hope that he could stand up to the Daedra for at least a few days. He would not waver on this: he had to do this for Grubak and Raven-Eye. Compared with what they were going through, anything that Hircine could throw at him would be nothing.

That thought sustained Shadow through the three days that it took for the infection to take hold. He had felt the darkness enter his body from the moment that he had bitten, and had the uneasy experience of feeling it spread throughout his body over the next three days. He did not understand why he could feel the infection spreading as Grubak clearly hadn't- nor had many of the others that Shadow could find. Of course, Midnight had- making Shadow wonder if his family had some sort affinity (or lack thereof) for the disease. But with the third nightfall approaching, Shadow's confidence was beginning to fade- but it was too late for anything to be done about it. Shadow had tracked a pair of werewolves through the woods, seeming to head for the farms between Skingrad and Kvatch. This was at least somewhat good, as it would minimize the number of people that the Khajiit could possibly encounter. His prey settled in to wait for nightfall, and Shadow did the same some way off. He took his armor and weapons off, and secured them with his pack in the bough of a nearby tree with a trap that would take out anyone who disturbed them, than, dressed only in cheap cloth pants and shirts, went to the edge of the woods to keep an eye on the other two werewolves. As the sun went behind the hills to the west, he faded back into the woods to wait for the inevitable.

He did not have long to wait, as his senses began to heighten- he could smell the dew gathering on the fields, the wood burning in the houses, and the two brothers several hundred yards away. Brothers? Was he really that far gone that he was having an affinity for the other werewolves? If that was what Hircine was counting on, he was going to be sorely disappointed. Instantly, a stabbing pain in his side hit him, causing him to drop to his knees. If anyone had been close enough those, they would have seen a pained smirk on the Master Assassin's face. Shadow could feel the Daedric Prince trying to assert control over him, and for whatever reason, he seemed to be failing. Shadow knew that this just might work.

The bloodlust was the worst, as that more than anything else impinged on his ability to think clearly. The animal urges where hard to resist, and Shadow began hyperventilating, then he watched as the fur on his hands and arms grew courser and darker. His claws popped out and thickened, and his fingers grew and lengthened, and the pain was incredible. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the transformation was over, and Shadow stood up straight, letting the shreds of his clothing fall away. He felt even more powerful then he usually did, his senses even more alert, and everything seemed to be strangely distorted, as though he was looking through water. But at the same time, everything seemed heightened, and ready for the hunt. Suddenly, it felt like his head like it was about to split in half- he grabbed his ears and fell to the ground howling in pain.

What? the voice of Hircine sounded in his head. You think that you can resist me Shadowsword? You serve me now, Khajiit, and you will have no secrets from me!

How long this contest of wills went on, Shadow had no idea, but after some time, Shadow got up and began to head for the two werewolves he had smelled earlier. Hircine continued to hound his thoughts, but the hatred Shadow felt for them kept the Prince from becoming anything more than an annoyance. The other two werewolves were preparing to attack a farm just at the edge of the forest, waiting for the lights to go out in the cabin. Shadow came up behind them, and took them both out before they could respond- clawing one across the chest, before ripping the other's throat out with his jaws. Instantly, the bloodlust and the feeling of his energy seeping away were both gone- but Hircine began to try and reassert control over him again. Shadow managed to dive back into the woods when his pained howls drew people out of the farmhouses. The rest of the night was a blur of pain, staccato images of his silver locket (which somehow stayed around his neck), and self inflicted injury as Shadow continued to struggle against Hircine's attempts to gain control of him. But sunrise put an end to the contest, leaving the Master Assassin nude and clutching his locket in the middle of the woods, laughing over the fact that Hircine had not been able to take control of him.

With that first night behind him, Shadow retrieved his gear and headed southwest towards the Gold Coast. He met no one all day and did not manage to find any other werewolves either before nightfall. Once again, he stripped and hid his gear before the transformation came over him. This night was the worst, as Hircine spent the whole night attempting to exert his will over his new hound. For Shadow, the night was nothing but pain, broken by images of a silver locket in his claws. In the morning, Shadow was completely exhausted; as the bloodlust faded, the Master Assassin found that he was chewing on a stick that he had no memory of finding. With that trial behind him, Shadow once again retrieved his gear and headed north to the farms on the Gold Road. This time, he did encounter a small pack of about four werewolves just before nightfall. He went through his ritual again, and this time Hircine made no attempt to force himself on Shadow.

You think you have beaten me Shadowsword, but you are my creature now. Sooner or later you will realize that- and the secrets you keep will be mine. And that was all that Shadow heard from the daedra that night: nothing when he tracked and killed the four werewolves, nothing when he snuck up behind a guard at the Skingrad west gate and knocked him out, nothing when he spent the rest of the night running up and down the Gold Road, four paces ahead of the Imperial Legion. He lost them about an hour before dawn, and he had just time to make it back to his gear before sun came up. That sunup found him lying on his back staring up into the sky and laughing. After a nap that lasted until midmorning, Shadow retrieved his gear, and pulled out the scrolls that the witches had given him.

"My student has been taken by Hircine," Shadow repeated, now in the presence of three witches. "I need to be prepared for the worst."

The witches looked at each other, then back at the assassin. Melisande was on his left, her sister Elvira was in the middle, and Olana- who seemed to think that the Khajiit was "cute", was on the right. Shadow wasn't sure if this attraction was sexual in nature, or (more demeaning from his point of view) an extension of the love of little girls for stuffed animals- and Shadow strongly suspected the latter. While no words were exchanged audibly, Shadow suspected that an exchange had taken place. It was Elvira who responded.

"So, you require a cure for lycanthropy- and you think that we might happen to have one."

"Oh stop toying with the poor child," Olana said. "He clearly knows that we provided the same service for his ancestor- although he was less cute then this one."

"That is a matter of taste," Melisande replied. "You seem unfazed by my sisters, Shadowsword."

Midnight had indicated that he had come to the conclusion that if witches had not obtained immortality, then they had found some way to extend their lifespan greatly. In fact, Midnight had recorded dealing with both Olana and Melisande. Elvira cut in before Shadow could reply.

"We all know what to expect from each other, and so the time has come to do business. Have we decided to help the Shadowsword? He has not been entirely forward with us."

"Does he really need to spell it out, Sister?" Olana asked. "If Hircine has taken his student, it is clearly to gain an advantage over him- he knows he is pursued."

"And he knows why," Melisande added. "The Bloodmoon will rise soon. Given that he knows of it already, I propose that we offer him the Scroll of the Wolfender_."_

"Agreed," Olana replied. "This is a dark hour, and no time for ritual. Hircine has not made such a fuss over his silly game like this before, this may be the time when he stays in the mortal realm."

"I will need three copies," Shadow interjected, drawing the stares of all three members of the coven. "One to be used on the self, and two to be used on... unwilling targets."

That declaration shocked all of them into a moment of silence, which Melisande broke.

"So, you know about the Orc then?"

"He says he was never bitten."

"And what does that cute little nose of yours tell you?" Olana asked with a smirk.

"I need three copies," Shadow said again, much more forcefully. "I will pay the price."

Another long silence, and Olana and Melisande looked to Elvira for guidance- while all three presented themselves as middle aged or slightly more mature women, the cues that Shadow had been reading lead him to believe that Elvira was the senior member of the coven.

"It is a dangerous game you play, Shadowsword. To think you understand a being that has existed since before this realm began," she said finally.

"I have no choice but to play the game by the rules I know," the assassin replied, a slight edge of desperation beginning to creep into his voice. Midnight had said that the witches were skilled at reading those that sought their aid, and they had seen things that Shadow had barely had the courage to admit to himself. This was no time to cover his thoughts and emotions, his family was at stake, and the entire world might be at stake. "I will pay the price."

"There is no price," Elvira finally said. "The test you have set before yourself will be payment enough. What you seek to do has never been attempted before, but you welcome it. You shall have the three scrolls. May your courage and love see you through the darkness that is to come, and may you see your love and student again."

"It will take us a few moments to prepare the scrolls, handsome," Olana explained as her sisters moved farther in to the cave. "But perhaps in the meantime, you can explain to me just what makes this Grubak so special."

Shadow reached into his pack and pulled out the three scrolls, he sorted through them until he found the one stamped with the map of the Shadow constellation- while it was not his birthsign, it had been Midnight's, and that was how he had gotten his name- and Shadow had been named after him. Shadow unrolled the scroll, and read it aloud as the witches had taught him. He finished the spell, and for just a second nothing happened. Just as Shadow was preparing to try and read it again when the scroll disintegrated in his hands, and as the ashes drifted through his fingers the dark feeling that marked the werewolf in him vanished. It had worked! Shadow grinned widely, his teeth exposed and gleaming in the midmorning sun. Now he knew, even though the witches had said no one had ever tried to cure an unwilling werewolf, he knew that he could put his little family back together again. It was time to tell Ralas.

Later that night, three werewolves attacked one of the vineyards outside Skingrad. One was moving through the lines of grapes when suddenly it was snatched by a slender but powerful arm. As that arm wrapped around its chest, the werewolf looked up to see that his captor was a Khajiit in black leather armor. Hircine took control of his hound.

"You! What have you done to yourself?" the Daedric Prince shouted.

"That's for me to know," Shadow said as he drove the Shadowedge into the werewolf's throat.

***

It had been a long day at Fort Daggertail, and the afternoon sun beat down on Ralas as he returned to his house. The Dark Elf mage had spent the day teaching the more advanced Dagger-Tails magic, and the exhausting trials had left the mage feeling every one of his sixty-five years. As he turned the key to his home, his mind was on a long soak in a warm bath. But that was delayed as he entered his bedroom to hear a load snoring sound. That was odd, and there were two swords and a pair of boots lying in the corner. As the mage stared at his bed, he realized that there was a Khajiit in his bed, snoring, with the covers pulled up to his head. The lock to Ralas' home was heavily trapped to prevent any of the more misguided students from plying their newly found lock picking skills- and only one Khajiit in the Shadowswords had the key to his house.

"Shadow?" Ralas asked, putting his hand on the Khajiit's shoulder. Instantly, the Master Assassin was awake, and the mage jerked his hand back quickly as the Shadowedge appeared in the sleepy assassin's hand- but Shadow instantly recognized the mage, and the dagger vanished as the assassin dismissed it, he murmured a hasty apology. Ralas looked at the Khajiit with an incredulous expression. "Since when do you snore? Since when do you sleep soundly enough to snore?"

"A bad habit," Shadow said as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. Ralas was glad to see that the Khajiit was still wearing his armor, but then he was disturbed by the fact that the Khajiit had managed to fall asleep in his armor. "Picked it up from Grubak, most likely; as for when, well, it's been three days since I had any sleep at all."

"Shadow, you are the lightest sleeper I know. How have you managed to get any sleep lying next to a snoring Orc all this time?"

"It's rather comforting," Shadow replied, regret creeping into his voice. Ralas' eyes dropped as he realized that he had touched a sore spot. Shadow drew strength from his lovers, and being reminded of their absence hurt him terribly.

As Shadow explained it, Hircine was throwing a hissy fit after Shadow had cured himself and was having his servants attack him nonstop. Even during the day, he had been attacked by nude werewolves. He had worked his way north to Fort Daggertail to get some actual sleep, even though he was sure that Hircine was about to give up on the endeavor. The Bloodmoon was just over a week away, and he would likely remember what he needed the Khajiit for.

"It's just as well that you are here," Ralas said finally. "You have been looking for a cure for lycanthropy, but there are other records in the Black Book from Midnight. He seems to have hidden a weapon for use against Hircine at his house, the one south of Bruma."

Shadow's face fell again as he remembered that the desire to head to that home had been what started this adventure. Heading up there without Grubak terrified him, but if it was what had to be done, he would do it.

***

Shadow pulled his hood tighter against the blowing snow this high up in the mountains. His ancestor had built this three story house on a cliff that was accessible only by a hidden trail, far away from everything- a place to get away from the concerns of the secret world of the Imperial assassins. Three generations of his family had used the place for just that purpose- until it had become haunted during Shadow's occupation of the place. Whether the place was actually had ghosts was open to debate, but the fact that Shadow was returning home alone drove the possibility home to him. As the log house with the pitched roof with the tip flattened out came into view, Shadow reached a hand under his armor to grasp the pendent hanging around his neck. The ghosts began to press in. Let them come, remember why you are here, and let the silence hang for the moment- he would drive it back. Shadow quickened his pace and pulled his key from his pouch.

Shadow did not pause until he reached the basement, where Midnight had hidden a weapon that could be used against Hircine, and where the past became impossible to ignore. Grubak was not Shadow's first lover, not his first partner, not the first one to share this house with Shadow. That honor had gone to a Khajiit named Ra'jarr- a fellow Shadowsword, a few years older than Shadow, who had mentored the younger Khajiit early in his career, and his partner when Shadow's skills surpassed his own. It was Ra'jarr who had made it seem normal that Shadow preferred male companions, and their relationship had taught Shadow much about love and how to exist in a world that viewed his tastes as strange. Everything had been wonderful, but three years ago Ra'jarr died on a mission in Shadow's arms. The last time that Shadow had come to this house alone, it had been to scatter his lover's ashes off the roof that Shadow loved to perch on. It had not been his best moment, and he had contemplated burning the place down. Had Ra'jarr's final request not been that he find another man that could make him happy, Shadow doubted that he would have become involved with Grubak- or even remained alive. Secretly, Shadow believed that Ra'jarr had somehow been involved with making sure he met the Orc- if spirits had such power.

But the Orc was gone now, trapped in service to the Lord of Werewolves in a twisted game of "catch me if you can", and Shadow was alone with the ghost of his lost love. He could not ignore it any longer, the memories hung thick on the walls of the basement- literally. In addition to his not inconsiderable assassin skills, Ra'jarr was an outstanding painter. His work, mostly landscapes, buildings, and scenes from history and myth, decorated the entire house- but while that made up the bulk of his work, he also had a large collection of paintings of a more... private nature, works meant to be enjoyed only by the two of them, as the prudes in the outside world would find them offensive. These works had once decorated the entire third floor, which was all bedrooms, and continued to do so when Grubak had first come up to the place (the Orc found Ra'jarr to be quite handsome, if a little thin for his tastes, and was very pleased with the ones that Shadow had been convinced to pose for by copious amounts of sweet wine), but when the young Raven-Eye came, Shadow and Grubak had moved this collection down to the basement, only re-hanging a few of them. Raven-Eye had been recovering from an attempt on his life, an attempt provoked by revealing his affection to another (male) member of the Dark Brotherhood. Shadow was worried that the negative result of his first attempt at seeking love would have a negative effect on the Argonian, and he did not want his young student bombarded by the message that had had such a negative outcome. The development of the mentor-student relationship prevented Shadow from bringing the paintings out of the basement when his fears proved groundless: parent figures should not be seen in certain lights. Lost in memory, Shadow smiled wistfully.

"We are all just damaged souls," he said to the empty air. "We were brought together as kindred spirits, and given the opportunity to make the best of it."

He lit the lantern, and moved to the north wall. From that wall, Ra'jarr's yellow eyes stared out at him as the lighter furred Khajiit leaned back on one of the beds that was still upstairs. Above his head hung a painting of Fort Daggertail, back lit by the full moon, a painting that now hung in the front hall. Ra'jarr was smiling, as he often did, a slight, playful smile- an inviting twist of his lips that just showed his teeth. His black tipped ears were tilted slightly outward, another hint of his playfulness, and his tail was wrapped loosely around his bare leg, while his hands were tucked behind his head, which rested against the wall just below the painting, his short brown dreadlocks covering his arms down to the wrists. He wore, if that term applied, only a pillow in his lap. It was Shadow's favorite painting when the artist was alive- even though there were other self-portraits of Ra'jarr that featured him completely nude; there was just something about this one that caught Shadow's fancy, even though he was moderately sure that he had been the one who posed for the initial sketches of this painting. If that was correct, Ra'jarr had covered it well, as it was his slighter, leaner frame and lighter tan fur that was on display- not the slightly bulkier frame and somewhat more orange-brown fur and hair, which Shadow kept the same length as the rest of his fur so that by the standards of the Khajiit he was bald, of the Master Assassin that were so evident in the paintings that they were in together. Shadow found himself smiling again as he studied the painting, a bittersweet smile that was a marked improvement in his mind. He was remembering the good times, tinged now only with the sadness that they had come to an end, rather than the soul crushing hole in his chest that had enveloped him when he thought about Ra'jarr for the first year after his death, and Shadow didn't think at all about the actual event itself- for which he was grateful. He reached up and opened his locket to reveal another portrait of Ra'jarr, this time offering a warm, friendly smile, absent of sexual playfulness- it was the first painting he had done after the beginning of their relationship. So I can always be with you- no matter how bad things get the inscription facing the portrait read, something that Shadow had taken very much to heart. He closed the locket and looked back up at the painting.

"Sorry love," he said aloud. "But I am going to have to take you down for a little while. You are guarding something for me that I now desperately need so that my new partner doesn't follow you too soon." He had expected that to hurt to say, but somehow it didn't. Ra'jarr would understand, and Shadow couldn't shake the feeling that on some level, he approved.

As he took the painting down, the wire that allowed it to hang caught on the head of the nail. Shadow gave it a hard tug, and was almost knocked to the ground when the whole board came with the painting- the hollow space that he had assumed he would have to spend a long time looking for lay revealed. He looked incredulously into the eyes of the painting.

"You're still looking out for me aren't you?"

Shadow had been expecting a small space behind the wall, but what he got instead was a tunnel that went into the hill behind the house, far enough that he could not see the end of the tunnel. He could not see any tool marks on the walls of the tunnel, but that didn't surprise him greatly- Midnight had clearly had a mage assist him in building the house; the clearest example was the fact that no food stored in the pantry ever spoiled- even things like milk, eggs, or vegetables. So Midnight had had the place enchanted, and then had the mage come down here to cut this hiding place at the same visit. The tunnel made a turn and Shadow saw a wooden door, though it had no lock. Odd. He turned the knob and pushed the door into a small room.

The room seemed empty at first, but Shadow, having noticed the signs of mage-craft in the tunnel, was not overly surprised. As he entered the center of the room, the door closed on its own, and suddenly, on a rock in front of him, a small figure of a black Khajiit dressed in the same armor he was wearing appeared.

"Hello fellow Shadowsword," the figure said in greeting. Shadow squatted on his haunches to be eye level with the figure. He was already pretty sure that he was looking at some sort of magical recording, as he was just as sure that he was looking at an ancestor that was three generations past away. He also noticed that like himself, Midnight shaved his hair to the same length as his body fur. "As you have probably guessed, my name is Shadow. If you are here, then you are having problems with the Daedric Prince Hircine- and you have my sympathies. I have had my own troubles with the Lord of Werewolves, and I truly hope that you have not had the experiences that I have had with him. But my misfortune will aid you in your time of trouble."

How do you know I am not a thief? Shadow thought to himself.

"Since you are high up in the Shadowswords, you are likely wondering how I know that you are not a thief. If you were, you would already be dead." Midnight's eyes looked over Shadow's left shoulder, prompting the assassin to follow the recording's gaze. In the back of the doorframe, he saw a dark crystal- exactly like the ones that could be found in Aleyid ruins. He couldn't remember their proper name at the moment, and Grubak's name for them was an obscenity, as they were magical traps, shooting out fire, frost, or lightning at anyone that came in range. This one seemed to be controlled by another gem underneath it. "The only reason is you are alive is because you have the Shadowedge bound to you. If you didn't you would be ashes by now. But on to the reason you're here: Hircine is extremely powerful, and under this rock you will find a weapon to use against him- but it is not without cost. Take it, and may it serve you well."

Several hours later, Shadow walked out of the house with a firm grasp of the weapon his ancestor had hidden and felt ready to take on the Lord of Werewolves. But it was still a week until the full moon that would signal the start of the Hunter's Game. Hircine was going to regret coming after him for his foolish games. The daedric Prince had unleashed his servants to hunt all over the Imperial Province, and Shadow was going to cut a bloody swath through those rampaging werewolves until the Game began. As he watched the sun begin to set, Shadow felt a feral, predatory grin spread over his features. It was time to hunt...

In the meantime, Ralas was called to the Imperial City. The Emperor called in the mage and the Grandmaster and demanded to know where Shadow was. The Emperor was receiving reports of werewolves attacking settlements all throughout the Province and he wanted his personal assassin to investigate the reports. The Grandmaster had brought Ralas in to explain the situation to the Emperor. The mage explained that Shadow was already looking into the situation, as the werewolves had come looking for the Master Assassin. The Emperor listened intently with a worried look on his face as Ralas described the attack on Fort Daggertail, and the arrival and departure of Shadow and his partner after his kidnapped student. The Emperor asked if anything had been heard from Shadow since. The report that Raven-Eye and Grubak had been turned into werewolves, and that Shadow had for a time suffered the same fate, troubled him greatly. Ralas concealed exactly how Shadow had come by a cure, but assured the Emperor that the Master Assassin would not rest until he had thwarted the Daedric Prince's scheme and rescued his partner and student. With Ralas' report finished, the Emperor said nothing, and left the meeting without saying a word- but clearly still very concerned. Ralas reported the meeting to Shadow, but expected no reply- he got none. He had heard reports of a Khajiit hunting the werewolves that were attacking the settlements around the Province. The Bloodmoon was only two nights away...

Shadow kept no fire in his camp; he needed none, even in the long cold hours between midnight and dawn. He had killed four werewolves attacking a farm earlier in the night, and now he was waiting for Hircine's response. He knew that the Bloodmoon was only days away as even now the moon was bright enough that he see as well as during the day. He sat hunched over one of his swords, his eyes closed, his breathing even as he waited for the dawn. But he suspected that the dawn would not come before Hircine made one more attempt at him. He didn't wait long.

His eyes opened briefly as he caught two scents on the wind. They were werewolves, two of them, but they were coming from up wind- something that the previous attackers had been careful to avoid. But another second proved to Shadow that this was being done out of deliberate malice on the part of the Daedric Prince, and the Master Assassin straightened up to glare out into the gloom. Two pairs of eyes appeared in the tree line, and two werewolves stepped into the clearing. One was much bigger and bulkier then the other and both had the glowing yellow eyes that proved that they were being controlled by Hircine directly. Shadow understood only too well that he was in the presence of his partner and student.

"Well, is this the only thing you have to try, bastard?" Shadow asked through clenched teeth.

"It is time," the larger werewolf said, in Hircine's voice.

"You will come with us," the smaller werewolf completed, still in Hircine's voice.

Shadow stood up and sheathed his sword. "And what happens at dawn?"

Both of the Hircine controlled werewolves chuckled. "Then, you have a new problem to deal with."

At the edge of his vision, Shadow saw movement- werewolves, even larger the Grubak in his current state. They stayed just outside of where he could focus on them, but he was sure he could identify them. They would be the Hounds of Hircine, the daedric servants of the Lord of Werewolves. Unlike mortals that were became werewolves, these were born (if that term applied to daedra) as werewolves, and like other daedra when they were killed they were eventually returned to the service of their lord- they could not be killed in a permanent sense. And, as Hircine was implying, they did not change back to their human form during the day- as they did not have one. Midnight had recorded that they were also more powerful then mortal werewolves.

"Well," Shadow said as he shouldered his two packs. "At least we will not get lost. I don't suppose that your servants brought extra pants for these two?"

They took off into the night. The previous week of hunting down Hircine's servants had taken Shadow back into the Imperial Reserve, and the camp that they were leaving was located just northeast of Skingrad. The direction that Grubak and Raven-Eye were taking was to the southeast, in the general direction of Leyawiin. They had almost made it Bravil when the sun finally came up. As Shadow had expected, the Hounds did not have pants for their mortal relatives.

The sunrise reunion was rather restrained, as Shadow quickly realized that Hircine was still able to exert some sort of influence over both of them- especially Raven-Eye. The Argonian was behaving strangely, somewhat more aggressive and assertive, and he was calling Hircine "Master" rather than Shadow. Shadow never insisted on his student calling him by his title, except on the two occasions where the Argonian had gotten into very serious trouble, but Raven-Eye usually did anyway. Raven-Eye expressed surprise that Shadow had briefly been a werewolf himself, and expressed disappointment that Shadow had rejected the Lord's offer to join his family. In addition, Grubak and Raven-Eye were displaying open affection for each other and almost none at all for Shadow himself. This was not as off putting to Shadow as the personality incongruities, as he was very sure that this was completely manufactured by Hircine: while Grubak was attracted to Raven-Eye, Shadow knew that it was a strictly physical thing for the Orc- what Raven-Eye's feelings where, he did not know- but as he had taught them both to not be so open with their feelings with strangers around, and both were aware of the Hounds. In this, Shadow saw Hircine attempting to drive a wedge between the three of them, and Grubak had a few brief moments of lucidity that confirmed it for the assassin- he also seemed desperate to confirm that he and Raven-Eye had not had relations, in spite of Hircine's efforts to get them to engage in such. His anger at the Daedric Prince slowly began to boil again. Both of them were curious about how Shadow had cured himself, but the Khajiit kept that information to himself- even though it ripped his heart out: if he cured them now, Hircine would just kill them- now though he had them to hold over the Shadowsword.

Finally, Shadow had had enough. He told his partners to wait for him in the clearing where they had stopped, and had them put on the pants that he had brought for them. They expressed some concern that he was heading west, instead of southeast, but Shadow assured them that he was not going far. In fact he was going just far enough to be intercepted by the surrounding Hounds. Two of them met him just out of ear shoot from Grubak and Raven-Eye.

"So, are you going to tell me where we are going? Or am I just going to have to count on us not getting separated?" Shadow asked sardonically. The two chuckled.

"Not get lost," the one on Shadow's left growled.

"Youngsters know where to go," the other added.

"I suppose," Shadow mused. "But you know that they are somewhat unstable, I do not want to have to place my trust in them."

"Throw them away so quickly?" the first Hound chuckled. "Our brothers now. They not need you anymore."

Shadow turned to face the Hound on his right. "How many of you are there out here?"

"Enough," the first Hound (the one that Shadow had ignored) said. "And the Youngsters will fight you as well."

Shadow was silent for a long moment, long enough for the Hounds to grow somewhat disinterested. Then, the Master Assassin moved, slashing the Shadowedge across the throat of the Hound that had spoken last, the shoved the dagger into its chest. In the same movement, he kicked the Hound's knee, shattering it and driving the creature to the ground. As the werewolf collapsed and died, the Shadowsword stepped over to the second Hound and calmly wiped his dagger on its furry chest, leaving a bloody smear through its brown fur, than the Khajiit dismissed the dagger. The Hound did not move as the assassin backed away from him.

"That's better," Shadow said, his anger cooling for the moment. Then he looked the werewolf square in the eyes. "Now, I counted ten of you last night, and I will tell you right now- that's not going to be enough."

"More will come," the Hound said calmly. He was a Daedra, and as such was immortal- but his physical form could be destroyed sending him back to the Source. And the Shadowsword had just demonstrated how easily he could make that happen. While he did not fear death, the process was painful, and to be killed by a mortal (even one as powerful as Shadow) was very demeaning and was something worth avoiding. To make matters worse, the Shadowsword knew this well.

"Southeast, into Blackwood," the Hound said finally. Giving the Khajiit what he had asked for might forestall anymore outbursts.

"Just so we understand each other," Shadow said quietly before returning to his students. His outlook was somewhat improved, and he purred quietly to himself for much of the day.

***

Two days later, they reached the border of the Imperial Province and the Black Marsh. The Bloodmoon would rise tonight, and to Shadow it seemed that they were nowhere near the Lord of Werewolves' Hunting Grounds. There should have been some sort of portal to Oblivion waiting for them, but there wasn't. By midmorning, Grubak seemed in complete control, which gave Shadow some hope- but Raven-Eye was completely under Hircine's influence, so much so that he remained nude and eventually wandered away from the camp that Shadow had set up. Knowing what tonight would bring, Shadow was growing restless, and was just considering removing another one of the Hounds when Raven-Eye came running back into the camp. Shadow stood to meet him, his back to Grubak.

"There's a cave over there!" the Argonian shouted excitedly.

"Is that where we are supposed to go?" the Master Assassin asked.

If the Argonian knew the answer, he never got a chance to respond as something hit Shadow on the back of the head. As the darkness claimed him, he saw Grubak's face with glowing yellow eyes and knew that Hircine had taken his lover from him again. The anger returned full force just before everything went black.

***

The Hunting Grounds were a large maze with walls of ice-like crystal which could not be penetrated or climbed. At the center of the maze, Hircine sat upon a wooding throne watching the walls that showed him the other parts of the Hunting Grounds. Images flickered through the Daedra Lord's consciousness, the views from the eyes of dozens of his Hounds as they wandered the maze. In dozens of points on the outside ring of the maze, mortals slept waiting for the Hunter's Game to begin. A wave of pleasure rolled through Hircine as he considered the Hunter's Game, while he would not interfere in the game itself, he had learned to predict the outcome of the Game. To the Lord of the Hunt, there was no question that the Master Assassin of the Shadowswords would emerge the victor. That his students would also do well, Hircine knew, and so the Daedra had arranged for the Orc and Argonian to be placed on the opposite side of the Hunting Grounds from the Khajiit- the first place they could meet would be the chamber just outside this one, and meet they would, the Prince knew. If he was correct, the Khajiit would emerge the victor from that conflict- he would rather kill both of them then leave them in Hircine's power- he had done it before to end a lover's suffering. A wave of excitement passed over Hircine as he looked forward to facing the Khajiit- it would be the first battle in a very long time that had excited the Daedra this much.

Hircine stood from his throne. It was time to begin.

***

Shadow's head was still ringing, even though he knew it had to be hours later. He blinked twice, sat up, and began to rub his forehead, muttering curses against Hircine. After a moment, he realized that the Lord of the Hunt was before him. Before turning to face the Daedra, Shadow checked his gear, all of which was intact- including the two Scrolls of the Wolfender. He had his two swords, his armor was intact, and he had both his packs- nothing had been disturbed. With his inventory complete, Shadow turned to face the being that had made his life a living hell for the past month.

"You are the last to arrive," Hircine stated flatly. "Welcome to my Hunting Grounds mortal. Soon the Bloodmoon will rise, and the Hunt will begin."

Hircine paused what was clearly a well rehearsed speech, but Shadow had nothing to say and just clenched his fists in anger. When the Daedra was convinced that he would not get any further response, he continued the speech.

"The rules of the Hunt are simple: in each ring of the Hunting Grounds a key is hidden that will unlock the gate to the next ring. If you make it to the center of my Hunting Grounds, you will receive the greatest prize ever- to face me in combat. The others have already started, and you may proceed as soon as you are prepared. Beware mortal, for my Hounds stalk the Hunting Grounds. Farewell."

And with that, Hircine vanished. Shadow knew that the Prince expected him to head into the Hunting Grounds, but Shadow was not prepared. He sat down in the middle of the floor and pulled out the Black Book and his pencil and brought his journal up to date. He was on his own now, no other Shadowsword had been caught in the Hunter's Game before, as the Bloodmoon was an extremely rare event and he wanted his records to be current. That finished, he slid the Black Book back into its pouch, and rechecked his gear. Midnight's weapon was tucked into a pouch, and his packs were secure- he was as ready as he was going to be. He pulled a ring out of the pouch on his belt, this one a gift from the Daedric Prince Meridia- the Ring of Khajiiti, a legendary artifact used by all the greatest Khajiit thieves of legend that allowed them to remain hidden even against the most alert guards. He slipped the ring on his finger, seeming to disappear into thin air as he entered the maze. The Hunter's Game was about to begin.

When Grubak awoke, he felt fully in control of himself for the first time in weeks. For some reason that ashamed him, as he began to remember all the events that had taken place in that time and how Hircine had used him to try to hurt Shadow. He was nude and lying in what seemed to be snow, although it was not cold. The chamber was completely empty, except for himself and Raven-Eye, who was still asleep next to him. This must be Hircine's Hunting Grounds, but why were they alone? Grubak stood up, and began looking around- the chamber seemed to be carved from ice, but again it was not cold. But there seemed to be no entrance, no door, no anything- but that couldn't be the case. What would Shadow do? Grubak thought about it for a moment, but could not come up with any useful answers- the answer he came up with was that the entrance had to be magical, and the Orc was not as in tune with the magical world as Shadow was. Despair threatened to overwhelm him, and he sat down with his back against the wall and put his head in his hands. When he looked up, Raven-Eye was sitting up staring at him.

"Why so glum Grubak?" the Argonian asked with a yawn.

"We're trapped in here," the Orc replied.

"We're not trapped," Raven-Eye said in a tone that suggested he was talking to a slow witted child. "It just isn't time to hunt yet. When it is, the Master will come to us."

Shadow had warned him that for whatever reason, Raven-Eye had proved more susceptible to Hircine's control then Grubak himself had. It was likely that Raven-Eye had no sense of himself, and was totally in Hircine's thrall. Grubak felt the rage beginning to boil, just thinking about what the Daedra had done to them, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone and the Orc could not remember what he had been angry about. The Master would come for them, and then it would be time to hunt.

"Soon," the Orc whispered. All doubt faded from his mind, replaced by anticipation. Before long, the Master came to speak with them.

"Soon, my hounds the Bloodmoon will rise and you will join the Hunter's Game," the Master told them. "When that happens, I will allow you two to hunt together. Your task is very simple- make your way to the center of the Hunting Grounds, where I will be waiting for you. You must take care though, there are other mortals attempting to gain the same prize- and my Hounds prowl the Grounds to weed out the unworthy."

"Yes, Master," the two werewolves said in unison.

Hircine was silent for a long moment, twirling his spear in thought. "The Khajiit will try to stop you from pleasing your Master. He has rejected the chance to join our family, and he will deny you both the chance to remain. He will kill you if he can, he no longer loves you- remember, as you will have no choice but to treat him the same way. The moons will rise soon, and I will open the gate to the Hunting Grounds. Farewell, my hounds- hunt well, and perhaps we shall see each other again."

And with that, the Master disappeared, leaving his loyal servants to wait for nightfall. It seemed that it would never come. The Master had to have been talking about that Khajiit that they had brought with them- the Master was right; the Khajiit had not been happy with the werewolves and had even killed one of the Hounds out of spite. He would kill them if he had the chance, wouldn't he? Did they know him? Didn't he have a name? A promise made? And the Master Assassin always kept his promises. It was coming back to Grubak, it was so close! It was close enough that he could feel the Khajiit's fur pressing against him with firm muscle underneath, filling him with joy. What was his name? The fact that he couldn't remember made the Orc ashamed, ashamed because he understood that the Khajiit had never been angry with him- he couldn't be: after all, he was very special to Grubak. The memories began to flow, cherished memories, memories of ecstasy- so much so that they were having a physical effect on the Orc. But as soon as they had come, they were gone- washed away by the falling night and the primal urges that came with.

Now he understood- he was the Hunter. He had no need of foolish memories of kitties without names. That fool had rejected the Master's gifts- turned his back on his family! No matter, the werewolf that had been Grubak needed none of that now- he had a partner, a loyal one who would not reject the Master and kill their brothers for sport. Raven-Eye rose, his transformation complete, his hungry eyes meeting Grubak's, his tongue lolling in anticipation of the hunt. Gone were the memories and the doubts of the day, gone were the foolish thoughts of a time before they served the Master, gone was the weakness of their other selves. The Bloodmoon had risen, they were the Hunters. Simultaneously, they both loosed howls of delight that shook the very chamber they were in, shaking free a slab of ice and sending smashing to the ground- revealing, as the Master had promised, a portal to the Hunting Grounds. The smaller, faster, Raven-Eye led the way- it was time to hunt.

And what a hunt it was! The pair faced little difficulty as their section of the Hunting Grounds contained mostly prey- all mortals, and only a few of them brothers. But the Master had said that this was a hunt that would separate the weak from the Pack; those brothers that could not win the Hunt for themselves deserved their fate. None of them proved a challenge for Grubak and Raven-Eye, they had been hunting together since before the Master's service- not even the human male in the black armor and hood that seemed so familiar, and yet, different. The thought had given the former Orc a moment of pause- but not Raven-Eye! His smaller partner had taken great delight in killing that one, and took the time and effort to rip him to shreds- even though he had already eaten earlier in the hunt. It amused Grubak greatly when the smaller werewolf pissed on what was left of the human. Whatever he had done to so anger his partner, he deserved his fate. With Raven-Eye's rage spent, they moved deeper into the Hunting Grounds and closer to the reunion with the Master. From the center of the Hunting Grounds, Hircine looked on- and approved.

Seated on his throne, Hircine could see all the sections of the Hunting Grounds and watch the Hunter's Game unfold. Part of the reason that Hircine had not used a victory to remain in the mortal realm was his sheer enjoyment of the Hunter's Game. After several hundred years, the Prince had learned how to predict the outcome of the Game- even the larger ones like this one. Usually, Hircine only invited a handful of mortals to participate- but this time he had other motives, and the Shadowsword had to be taught the painful lesson he would not accept otherwise. Hircine had arranged the Game to prove to the Shadowsword that he was better off on his own. The Khajiit was on one side of the Grounds, and his former students were on the other- if Hircine was correct they would meet in the last stage, and the winner would face Hircine himself. That was just the way that Hircine had planned it. Just as he had planned for his new hounds to encounter a member of the Dark Brotherhood, feeding the Argonian's rage made it easier for the Prince to exert control over him. Using the Dark Brotherhood's prejudice against him had proven an effective button for Hircine to push, and the fact that the Prince was watching the Argonian urinate on the shredded remains of the Brotherhood Silencer proved how effective it had been. The Orc had proved somewhat harder to control, and Hircine had no idea why- although he suspected that it had something to do with the Khajiit.

Hircine snorted as he thought about the Khajiit. How had the Shadowsword cured himself? It was a troubling thought. At the Prince's whim, the images on the walls of the chamber changed, showing the Prince all the memories he had collected from the hounds that had been dealing with the Khajiit. The images shifted through, flickering faster than any mortal could follow, and soon the night that the Orc transformed appeared. The Khajiit had made it even farther than his former students, now that the Daedric Prince could find him. The Khajiit had disappeared at the beginning of the Game- evidently the Shadowsword possessed an enchanted item with a Camouflage spell. The Khajiit had bypassed many of the Hunting Grounds' guardians this way, killing those that got in his way. Several mortals occupied the Shadowsword's side of the Hunting Grounds, and he had attempted to work with three of them before he came to the conclusion that they would all betray him at some point and gave up on the endeavor. The Khajiit female that had attempted to seduce him had been particularly amusing, and the Legionnaire that the Khajiit had met just before nightfall had also amused the Lord of Werewolves- the Legionnaire had transformed while he still intended to help the Khajiit, and the Shadowsword had killed him in the middle of his transformation. After that, the Khajiit disappeared again, and Hircine expected that he was approaching the center of the Hunting Grounds- soon the issue would be decided.

The night that the Orc had transformed now appeared on the walls. The Khajiit's actions on that night made perfect sense to Hircine- the Lord of Werewolves had taken the Orc from him, and the Khajiit was not going to give him up without a fight. He had paid the consequences for his actions- but had he known how that would turn out? The three nights that the Shadowsword had spent as a hound flashed by as well- there was not much for the Daedra to go off of. The Khajiit had spent much of his time fixated on his silver locket, drawing the strength to resist Hircine from it, so much so that the Daedra had contemplating having the Orc take it from him- but the amulet was un-enchanted; whatever power it had, it was personal to the Khajiit and useless to anyone else. The images played and replayed, but Hircine drew no further to guessing the Khajiit's game then he did when he began, and the thought that the Shadowsword had deliberately infected himself to test a remedy for the Orc and the Argonian was just a quickly rejected whisper at the back of his mind.

Hircine was the Prince of the Hunt, the Lord of Werewolves, his realm was the preserve of animals and their instincts and urges; the thought that the Khajiit would deliberately put himself at risk for such a silly thing as love never occurred to the Prince. It could not occur to him, such a thing was outside his understanding- the physical aspect he understood all too well, the physical attraction and desire for pleasure that more "civilized" mortals called lust- that the Prince understood, and used to manipulate the Orc and the Argonian. That was what the Orc's interest in the Argonian was mostly based on, and the Argonian was receptive, making easy for the Prince to bring out to drive a wedge between his hounds and their former master. But the Khajiit had not been upset about it, and the Orc had been more difficult to control when around him, a condition that had puzzled the Daedra greatly. But he would not understand love as the poets defined, love that would drive someone to willingly sacrifice their well being for another, love that would keep that same person persisting in a foolish game long after any sane person would have given up: that love was outside Hircine's experience, and so he never considered it. He just continued to watch the images over and over, unable to make any sense of the Khajiit's actions.

Outside in the Hunting Grounds, Shadow sat on top of the chest that contained the next key, his head in his chest, his back against one of the ice walls, his eyes momentarily closed, his tail still, his ears folded, completely exhausted. For almost a month he had persisted in a cat and mouse game with Hircine, and now, with the end in sight, that month of minimal rest was catching up with him- and he knew that the hardest tests were yet to come. The ghost of Ra'jarr was just behind his shoulder, pleading with him not to despair- and it seemed to be helping, as Shadow suddenly found himself thinking not of his lost love as he usually did in moments of weakness, but of Grubak- and the almost juvenile way that Shadow had decided he was ready for a relationship with the Orc. In the most basic of terms, it had started with Grubak throwing his boots at the Master Assassin- a strange way to start a relationship, even if he had somewhat legitimate reasons for doing so.

It had happened about a month after they had met, a month and a half after Ra'jarr's death- the two had been introduced by Ralas, in the full hope that they would be able to forge a relationship, but Shadow had not been ready-even though Grubak was. But the Orc was willing to wait, and had contented himself with being the Master Assassin's student. And so, as he would with any of the Dagger-Tails he would help train, he had put Grubak through his training course. First he demonstrated how to navigate the maze, then had his student try it- but with one more wrinkle, he turned down all the lamps in the room. Grubak, as all his students did to begin with, attempted it by imitating the crouching crab walk that Shadow had employed, and quickly learned that he did not have the balance that Shadow had worked so hard to perfect. The first obstacle, an uneven section of floor, proved to be the final tipping point and the Orc had wound up sprawled flat on his face. Shadow, who could see perfectly well in the low light, had done this dozens of times before with other students- but somehow, this time he found the Orc's difficulties amusing, and found himself having to stifle a snicker. The normally stealthy Khajiit had gotten caught- prompting the boot throwing, which showed the that the Orc was more quick witted then he let on, as the point had been to get students to take off their boots to feel the floor in the dark. But Grubak had then jumped to an odd conclusion, or more likely in retrospect he was just trying to make Shadow laugh, that if removing his boots helped a little, then removing other articles of clothing would help even more. And it wasn't long before the Orc was wandering naked through the maze- which he completed to find a Khajiit Master Assassin rolling around on the floor with his hands over his mouth, shaking, although the tears running through his whiskers told of the struggle to keep from laughing out loud. When Grubak kicked him in mock anger, the struggle was proven in vain, and Shadow had burst out laughing- so long and so hard that Grubak could no longer maintain the charade and joined him. It had been the first time that Shadow had laughed since Ra'jarr's death, and that was the point he knew that he could have a relationship with the Orc and not feel like he was trying to replace his lost love. They had kissed for the first time on that floor, and it had not hurt Shadow like he had expected it to.

Sitting on the chest back in the Hunting Grounds, Shadow smiled to himself. Grubak had always accepted the fact that Shadow would always have a place in his heart for Ra'jarr, and had displayed infinite patience when Shadow's thoughts returned to his first lover in his darker moments- it was just what made Grubak special, and Shadow would go to any length for him, and Raven-Eye, who was rapidly becoming almost a son to the Master Assassin. Shadow's hand strayed under his armor back to Ra'jarr's locket- and Shadow felt his resolve renew itself. The locket always reminded him of both his lovers, at once symbolizing the failure that had lead to the death of one, and the promise that it would never happen again. So what if the Hounds of Hircine had proven adept at finding him while he wore the Ring of Khajiiti? He could defeat them by the dozens if they stood between him and his family. So what if one of his blades was broken, his armor shredded, and his fur beginning to matt from blood? He was still alive; he still had the Shadowedge and the weapon that Midnight had left for him. He was so close to the end, so close to realizing his goals, so close to escaping this nightmare, so close to being found again...

A series of howls sounded throughout the maze, driving home the fact that Shadow had tarried a little too long- the Hounds had found his scent again and were coming after him. Shadow rose, checked to make sure the key was in his possession, and then plunged deeper into the maze with renewed resolve.

Shadow waited in the Huntsman Hall, the very center of the Hunting Grounds, at least as far as he could tell. While there was a portal in the center of the room, it did not function for Shadow, nor could he find a chest with a key, nor did the pressure pads seem to do anything. It appeared that Shadow had arrived first despite his late start. And as he sat cross-legged on the floor, spinning the Shadowedge in the snow and reviewed his thinking about his reading of Hircine, he understood only too well who it was he was waiting for. From the very start, Hircine had been out to punish the Master Assassin for not adhering to his ideal of what a hunter should be as well as to force him into participating in the Hunter's Game. Turning Grubak and Raven-Eye into werewolves was designed to both isolate him and force him into accepting a role in the Game. But the idea that Shadow would attempt to subvert the game by rescuing Grubak and Raven-Eye never crossed Hircine's mind. But now, the greatest challenge lay before him- once Hircine had made his play by turning his family, Shadow had known that this moment would come. He had understood what Hircine was attempting- playing off his new control over Grubak and Raven-Eye to drive a wedge between them and Shadow, and forcing him to come after them. Hircine then arranged the Hunter's Game to ensure that they would meet at the end of the Game. Now that confrontation was imminent, and Hircine would offer a deal to the winner a deal if they would serve him. That made Shadow smile, and he checked to make sure that the Scrolls of the Wolfender were tucked safely in the pouch he usually kept the Black Book. He was as ready as he was going to be, and stood up and moved to the center of the room and sat down again to wait. He did not have long to wait.

The portal he had entered flashed, and two werewolves appeared. With caution, the pair fanned out, their noses working constantly as their heads swung back and forth. Their scents hit Shadow, and confirmed for him that he was indeed facing his two students. He stood; leaving his remaining blade sheathed, the Shadowedge held loosely in his left hand pointing down his arm, and continued to face forward as the two moved to flank him. Both growled, snarled, and snapped at him as they continued to circle him. They had not had an easy time of the Hunter's Game either, as the assassin's trained eyes picked out matted blood on both them, and the larger werewolf trying very hard to hide a limp.

"Whatever he told you," Shadow finally said aloud. "It is not true. We do not have to do this."

Their response sounded almost like laughter, but to Shadow's relief, Hircine did not attempt to take control of them. The circling continued while Shadow did his best not to visibly tense in anticipation of what was to come, the seconds dragged by as this strange dance continued.

It ended the heartbeat before Shadow was going to break it himself, with the werewolf Raven-Eye (who was on his left) lunging at him- Grubak hesitated a second longer, allowing the Master Assassin to dodge the attacking werewolf and shove him into Grubak's charge, knocking them both to the ground. Raven-Eye was up instantly and attacking Shadow, but again, Grubak hesitated before joining in. Now Shadow had his sword out, but was careful to only use the flat. He remained on the defense, as Grubak and Raven-Eye (as he had taught them) were working well together presenting Shadow with as much of a challenge as five of Hircine's Hounds had in the outer portions of the Hunting Ground. As he continued the game of block and parry, Shadow couldn't help but be proud of his students- even in their current state, they remembered the lessons he had taught them- and judging by the growing reluctance to attack from the larger werewolf, Grubak was remembering a good deal more than that. The art of assassination required the assassin to be able to create their own openings, and the recognition of Grubak's resistance to Hircine was all the opening the Master Assassin needed. Instantly, the four moves needed to isolate the former Orc ran through his head, and just as quickly, he began the sequence by planting his foot in the larger werewolf's groin- hard. Shadow couldn't help but wince to himself as Grubak went down, but Raven-Eye didn't give him an opening for remorse, just the way he had planned it.

His student pressed in close, forcing the assassin to drop his sword and seize the werewolf's arms. Raven-Eye's jaws snapped mere inches from Shadow's throat, and he could smell blood on his jaws- the former Argonian had taken many lives that night, and under Hircine's influence, he would not think twice about adding Shadow to that tally. But the werewolf was not in control- and the backpedaling Master Assassin had his student right where he wanted him. Locked up in what was becoming a test of strength and balance, Shadow suddenly released Raven-Eye's left arm. Freed, the werewolf lunged at its seeming prey, but went past as the Khajiit sidestepped the attack, spun behind the werewolf and slammed his head into the ice wall, and once more for good measure. Again, Shadow was instantly aware of the fact that he was deliberately hurting the people he swore he would never hurt, but the Prince had taken those options from him- this was the only way. Recognizing that Raven-Eye was momentarily stunned, Shadow dropped him and turned back to find Grubak charging him as well, but with caution and reluctance. He attacked, and the assassin sidestepped him, but did not retaliate. Instead, as the werewolf grabbed his head and howled, he reached into the sleeve on his chest and closed his hand around the scroll marked with the constellation of the Warrior.

"You realize that what you are trying to do has never been done before," Olana told him, not for the first time. "No one has ever tried to cure a werewolf against their will."

"We cannot even be sure that this will work," Melisande added as she handed him the three scrolls.

"Enough of this," Elvira interrupted. "The Shadowsword understands only too well the course he follows."

"It saddens me that we can do nothing for his loved ones," Melisande said.

"No more than me," Shadow interjected. "But it has to be this way; Hircine can do nothing else to them. If they are at my side, they will be in danger- this way Hircine feels that he has a hold over me."

"You place a great deal of faith in your ability to read a being that has existed since before this plane was formed," Elvia said. "But that is your way, and it has the ring of truth to it. If anyone can accomplish this, you can. The scrolls are marked with birthsign seals, as long as the scrolls exist, they will reseal. Once the spell has been recited, the scroll will be consumed."

Shadow looked at the scrolls. One was marked with the Shadow, one with the Warrior, and the final one with the Apprentice.

"Each spell has some personalization to it, especially the targeted ones," Olana said. "We decided that those would be the easiest to remember which one was for whom."

Shadow nodded, broke the seals and recited the spells. After about three tries, he was able to recite each one to the witches' satisfaction.

Now Shadow pulled the scroll marked with the Warrior seal and faced his partner. He did not unroll the scroll- he didn't have to. For someone who routinely had to memorize the patterns of guards for weeks at a time- even non recorded habits that the individual guards picked up over time, memorizing even the most complicated spell proved only a minor challenge. Grubak was still grabbing his head, struggling against Hircine's commands.

"Shaaadooow!" he growled painfully.

That was all Master Assassin needed to hear, as he began to recite the spell. Grubak lapsed back into Hircine's thrall and charged. But by the time the werewolf arrived, the Master Assassin had finished the spell. The effect was not immediately apparent, as the werewolf grabbed him by the shoulders, his jaws agape, when suddenly the fur disappeared, the snout retracted and Shadow was hit by an Orc with black hair down to his shoulders. Even back to normal, Grubak's momentum and mass knocked them to the ground. The scroll instantly went to ash, staining the Orc's green skin with black. On his back, covered by a nude Orc, Shadow couldn't help but smile widely and reach a hand around to grasp Grubak's backside.

"Hello lover," he said to the suddenly exhausted Orc. "Did you miss me?"

Grubak tried to come up with some response, but was unable to before Shadow suddenly swung them over so that Grubak's back was now on the floor. Shadow winced painfully as Grubak saw a brown flash pass over them. The Master Assassin was instantly on his feet and facing his attacker, which put his back to Grubak, who gasped to himself as he saw the bloody streaks on his partner's back. Revulsion of what he and Raven-Eye had done to Shadow filled him. He tried to rise to help Shadow, but his strength, and the realization that he was unarmed, was gone- there was nothing he could do besides get in the way.

Raven-Eye dropped into a crouch, and began yammering at the Khajiit. Shadow reached into the pouch on his chest and withdrew his last scroll.

"I haven't taken anything from you," Shadow told the werewolf, his tone low and threatening- whether he had actually understood what the werewolf was saying or not. "He took you from me. I have every right to take you back." And with that, he began reciting what Grubak assumed was the spell on the scroll he was holding, just as he had with the Orc. But Raven-Eye displayed none of the reluctance that Grubak had- Hircine's control was just too strong. Shadow could not finish the spell before Raven-Eye arrived and was forced to defend himself, but even that strain on his attention could not stop the Master Assassin from completing the spell to save his student- which he did, just as the werewolf broke his defense and lunged at his throat.

But that attack never landed, as Raven-Eye transformed almost instantly, dropping to his knees, his head landed on his Master's shoulder as the Khajiit caught him. Shadow wrapped him in a fatherly embrace, which the Argonian returned and Shadow could feel him holding back tears.

"Master," he whispered into Shadow's shoulder. "You came! He made me do terrible things; he tried to make me..."

Raven-Eye trailed off in a sob, followed by what sounded like "again", and Shadow took it as a good sign that he could not bring himself to say the words that he had rejected so long ago. When Shadow had first found Raven-Eye, the Argonian had been at death's door, beaten and left for dead by the Dark Brotherhood who found his sexual appetites revolting. He could not remember his name, which was not surprising given his condition, and continued to make the claim when he became Shadow's student- so the Master assassin called him "Raven-Eye" after his unusual grey eyes that reminded the Khajiit of raven feathers. As their relationship strengthened, the Argonian had confided in his Master that he could remember his name, but had wanted to give it up as a symbol of starting a new life; the fact that Shadow had cared enough to give him a new name had helped the Argonian decide that he did indeed want to be part of the Master Assassin's family. He had said his old name for the last time on that day, and had never said it since.

"It's alright," Shadow soothed. "You knew I would come for you, and I did. I promised that you would never have to go back to that life, and as long as I am alive you won't."

By this time, Grubak had gathered enough strength to join the embrace, crushing Shadow between his student and his partner. While he gladly would have remained there longer, Shadow quickly managed to break the embrace and pulled two healing potions off of his belt and stuck them in the Orc and Argonian's mouths.

"We are not out of danger yet I am afraid," the Master Assassin said as he trotted over to where he had hidden his packs. "The Hunter's Game is not over yet, and Hircine is expecting one of us on the other side of that portal."

He returned and unrolled the two packs, one of which contained all of Raven-Eye's gear and the other containing Grubak's as well as the items that the Khajiit knew he could not bear to lose. Armor, weapons, healing potions- the assassin had brought it all, and they quickly began dressing.

"You already know that werewolves can use the portals without keys," Shadow continued while they were putting on their gear. The portal in the center had gone active as soon as Grubak and Raven-Eye had arrived, but the battle prevented Shadow from being able to use it. "I bypassed a fair number of Hircine's Hounds on the way here, and I expect them to be here momentarily to make sure that the victor has moved on."

"So what're we waiting for?" Grubak asked as he strapped the black steel arm armor on over his normal Shadowsword armor. "Let's go take it to that damn daedra!"

Raven-Eye's head dropped in embarrassment, and he almost dropped his bow. "'We' can't. Now that we've been cured, the portal will only work for one person and one person only."

"So one 'o us is gonna havta face Hircine alone?" Grubak's Orc accent, which Shadow worked so hard to minimize, came back strong in moments of stress and excitement.

"No," Shadow said with finality as he tossed Raven-Eye his remaining longsword. "Not one of us-Me. Hircine has wanted this one from the very start. And this one has much to pay the Prince back for."

"But," Grubak stammered. "No one has ever won the Hunter's Game! The battle with Hircine is to the death. I just got you back; will I have to give you up again already?"

Shadow gave him a sad smile, telling the Orc everything he needed to be reassured. Shadow had a plan- he wouldn't leave Grubak like that. While everyone who knew about the Orc and the Khajiit's relationship knew about Ra'jarr's death, only Grubak had been told the whole story of the death of Shadow's first love- including just how close to the edge it had driven him. Shadow would never ask anyone else to live through that. And so, Grubak nodded in understanding as Shadow stepped onto the central portal and vanished. In imitation of Shadow, he reached up and took hold of the silver Shadowsword insignia amulet that Shadow had insisted they both wear.

"He is going to take on the Lord of Werewolves with a cheap sword and shredded armor?" Raven-Eye asked worriedly. "We are going to see him again, aren't we?"

As the Argonian spoke, the portals at the edge of the room began glowing, indicating that the portals they had come through were activating. The Orc unsheathed his axe.

"Gonna be up to us, looks like," Grubak responded with a grin. "He'll get out of this, I know it."

With that, about a dozen werewolves emerged from the portals. These would be the Hounds of Hircine, true daedric werewolves, more powerful then mortals that had been turned into werewolves. Grubak twirled his axe as Raven-Eye notched an arrow to his bow.

"Hello puppies," Grubak growled. "We've got some catching up to do..."

The world went white for a few heartbeats as Shadow was teleported to the final area of the Huntsman's Hall. The area he was deposited into was almost identical to the one he had just left, except that there was only one other portal on a raised dais at the other end of the Hall from where he had entered. He had entered in a small alcove that was just off the main section of the Hall, which was circular. The room was empty when the Khajiit entered, but he knew that would not last. As he reached the center of the Hall, Hircine began speaking, his voice seeming to come from everywhere at once.

"Interesting," Hircine mused. "I was rather expecting the other two. I did not expect you to actually find it in yourself to fight them."

"The alternative of leaving them in your tender mercies being so much more attractive," Shadow replied sardonically.

"It was the Hunter's choice," Hircine said, a hint of admiration in his voice and Shadow could tell that he had guessed right: Hircine did not watch the final confrontation of the Hunter's Game, preferring to react to whoever showed up to face him and he was about to make an offer. "This Hunting Ground is a plane between the planes, Shadowsword- the usual rules do not always apply here. They can be returned to you."

"And all I have to do is swear myself to your service," Shadow finished. "After everything that has happened, just forget it all and join you. I do not see that happening- especially since there is still the business of the Hunter's Game to transact." He dropped into a crouch and drew the steel shortsword he had taken from the Legionnaire earlier in the Game- with his tattered armor, empty sheaths, and stolen blade he must have cut a somewhat comic figure.

"Indeed," Hircine said, this time appearing on the dais. "There is that. You willingly walk into a fight that you know that you cannot win, but the rules of the Hunt demand that you have at least some chance. Therefore, you shall fight one of my aspects."

Hircine paused, twirling his spear in front of him in thought. "What is a Hunter's greatest strength? Is it the Speed with which he stalks his prey? The Strength with which he strikes? Or is it his Guile, his ability to make and avoid traps?"

Shadow paused to consider that, taking the question seriously, even though he knew that he was being asked to choose his executioner.

"His speed," he said finally. "Speed can overcome strength, and to use speed effectively, one already has to have mastered guile."

Hircine nodded, accepting Shadow's logic, which for some reason mattered to the assassin. He continued to twirl his spear in thought. "Very well Shadowsword, you shall fight my Speed."

And with that, the Daedric Prince dropped to all fours, his body transforming into a massive wolf- at least the size of Shadow himself. But the wolf also sported the same deer skull mask and horns that Hircine himself wore. And Hircine was not exaggerating about the speed of his aspect, as no sooner had Shadow recognized the transformation, then the wolf was on top of him. Shadow barely managed to defend himself from that first lunge, and his stolen sword snapped on the daedra's hide on the second pass, and on the third pass Hircine connected with a swipe of his paws that sent the assassin rolling across the chamber. For the second time, Shadow bitterly regretted the month lost to Hircine's foolish pursuits. He wearily climbed to his feet.

"What will you do now Shadowsword?" Hircine asked as he circled the Khajiit. Shadow stood with his eyes closed, not responding. "You can barely stand, your armor is destroyed, and you have no weapons. The Hunter's Game is traditionally to the death, but if you yield and swear to serve me, then I will spare you- and return your partners to you."

As the wolf passed in front of Shadow, the assassin reached into his belt pouch and opened his eyes. "Who says I am out of weapons?"

He held out the item he had retrieved and held it out for the daedric aspect to inspect. To anyone watching, the plain silver ring would not have seemed to be something that could turn the tide of battle, but the wolf recoiled at the very sight of it.

"That is given to my servants only," the daedric wolf growled. "How did you acquire it?"

"That is my secret," the Master Assassin replied.

"Is it not ironic," the wolf chuckled. "That after all this running, lying, and debating, you will use my own weapon against me in the end?"

"But this time, it is on my terms," Shadow replied as he slipped the Ring of Hircine onto his finger. As had happened when he had tried it in his Bruma home, the transformation into a werewolf was instantaneous- but this time, Shadow was in complete control. There was no bloodlust, no whispers from Hircine, no rejection of his civilized self- he was in control. He dropped into a crouch, and lunged for his opponent.

Unlike the other times, there was no vague blur of lost time, no memory of just a set of staccato images; everything was crystal clear as Shadow wrestled with Hircine's Speed. How long this went on, Shadow could not tell, but he remembered every move and countermove, all of it playing out just as it would have in his normal form- Hircine was good, very good, and Shadow was forced to admit that they were fairly evenly matched, and that secretly thrilled him. But Shadow knew that he had to get back to Grubak and Raven-Eye, and this had to end. And suddenly, the wolf slipped, and Shadow was inside its guard. Shadow did not hesitate, and lunged straight for the wolf's throat.

Shadow threw the wolf's body to the ground, and almost instantly he reverted back to his Khajiit form. Instantly, the strength that had kept him going as a werewolf was gone, and he sat down for a long moment. For half a moment, he was worried that Hircine would have some last trick to play on him, but when nothing happened, the assassin flopped on his back and stared at the ceiling until some of his strength returned. The portal on the dais remained dark, indicating to the Master Assassin that it also required a key. He eventually managed to get to his feet and searched the body of Hircine's aspect. Sure enough, he found a key similar to the ones he had found in the Outer Rings and an enchanted amulet. Interesting, and Shadow hung it around his neck, over his other locket, which was the only stitch of clothing he had left, and headed up to the dais. He looked back at the other portals, and they remained dark. He hoped that the plans that he had made would work out, he would hate to think that he would be responsible for the death of another partner. But now, as the rumbling started and he looked up to see the ceiling beginning to break apart, there were just some things that would have to be taken on faith. With as much gravity as an exhausted, naked Khajiit could muster, he ascended the stairs to the portal, which now activated, and stepped on to the glowing pad, leaving the Hunting Grounds far behind.

Shadow had only a basic understanding of what happened when one was teleported, but the effect was supposed to be instantaneous- and there were times that Shadow found that to not be the case. On those occasions, he found himself in some sort of white space- as he did now, with the translucent face of Hircine before him. The Daedric Prince spoke, or at least Shadow heard his voice in his head.

The Bloodmoon sinks and the Prey still lives? How can this be? It seems I have underestimated you, Shadowsword. I will not do so in our next meeting, the Bloodmoon will rise again- and Hircine will hunt again.

Shadow said nothing, knowing that while those statements were true, they were just empty threats- Hircine would not attempt anything else to make Shadow's life miserable. In fact, just the opposite, as a leather cuirass appeared in front of him. It had no sleeves and had wolf's head designs on the shoulders, and seemed to be made of a material other then bovine leather. But he did not hesitate to reach out and grab it.

The Savior's Hide, Hircine's voice sounded in his head. May it serve you well in your future hunts. Farewell mortal, until we meet again.

And with that the Daedric Prince was gone. But the white did not immediately fade into the normal world, Shadow felt the sensation of movement come again. In an instant, he found himself in the West Weald, but not before he heard another voice- one that was deeper even then Hircine's.

Well done, my servant. You have kept the Lord of Werewolves from remaining in the mortal plane. You have served me well, and you shall be rewarded.

The midmorning sun beat down on his fur, warming him after the chill of the Hunting Grounds. Lying on his back, the grass was over his body, and Shadow could see the blue sky partially blocked by the tops of trees. He sat up, and realized that he was in the middle of a clearing in a section of thin woods in plains between the city of Bravil and Elsweyr. For a long moment, Shadow could see nothing, and fought back the moment of panic that the realization brought- but he fought it back and whistled loudly.

There was no response, but down the little hill that he was on, down at the tree line, Shadow suddenly saw a black hood- shimmering in the sun with enchantment. Shadow smiled as he saw that there was an Argonian attached to the hood, wearing Shadowsword armor. Raven-Eye cried out, and was up the hill and launching himself at Shadow before the Khajiit realized what was happening. Raven-Eye knocked Shadow over with the force of his embrace, and the Khajiit found himself back on his back, and very disturbing lack of air.

"Alright," he gasped. "Be gentle, be gentle! Master is rather fragile right now."

Suddenly, Raven-Eye was off of him, yanked off by a large green hand. With the Argonian gone, that hand returned and pulled Shadow back into a sitting position, and he found himself looking into Grubak's eyes. He couldn't help but smile, even though the Orc looked somewhat annoyed- which Shadow found even more amusing.

"You left us in that damn maze as it was coming down!" Grubak groused. "How did you know that we would get out?"

"You are still wearing the amulets I gave you," Shadow replied as he reached up and took hold of the amulet. "I told you not to take it off, although you can now."

"They are enchanted," Raven-Eye said as he looked at the silver dagger-tailed dragon. "How do they work?"

"I have no idea," Shadow said in reply. "Our Master gave them to me; He said that if I ever needed Him to look out for someone, I was to give them those amulets."

"The Emperor saved us?" Grubak asked incredulously. The Septims were not known for their magical talents.

"Our true Master," Shadow said as he shook his head. Grubak and Raven-Eye chewed that comment over for a long moment. Raven-Eye puzzled it out first.

"Lord Akatosh," the Argonian whispered. It was the Dragon God of Time that was the standard of the Empire, and the symbol of the Shadowswords. Akatosh was the head of the Nine Divines, the official religion of the Empire, so if anyone would aid a loyal servant of the Empire, it would be the Dragon God. But the Gods rarely intervened in mortal affairs, and it was odd that he would choose to do so now. How had Shadow been given the amulets?

As they continued to talk for the next hour, with Grubak and Raven-Eye taking a seat next to the still nude Shadow (who had put the Savior's Hide in his lap), the Master Assassin did not provide an answer. The conversation turned to everything that had happened to them in the past month. Eventually, Shadow began yawning more and more frequently. Grubak and Raven-Eye exchanged glances; Shadow had given all his potions to them, and the Master Assassin's injuries and exertions were catching up with him. As Shadow smothered yet another yawn, Raven-Eye got to his feet and picked up his bow.

"I am going to head out," Raven-Eye said as he shouldered his bow. "See if I can get us some breakfast."

Shadow nodded. "You will find my purse in your pack. After we get camp set up, I am going to need you to run to town and get me some clothes." The Argonian nodded as he headed off deeper into the woods, leaving Grubak and Shadow alone. For the first time in over a month, all was right with the world, and Shadow was content.

He sat right next to Grubak, purring quietly to himself, and ready to get back to his normal life- and he had to admit, with Grubak back to normal, he was beginning to feel a little bit frisky (and he hoped his tail wasn't showing it), but his complete exhaustion seemed to be holding it back.

"So what're we going to do now?" Grubak asked. "Head up to Bruma?"

"Probably," Shadow replied, a playful edge just creeping into his voice. "But first I need some sleep and a meal."

"Real sleep?" Grubak asked as he raised an eyebrow, and then seemed to look behind the Khajiit.

"Yes. Real sleep."

"That's not what your tail says," Grubak said, his voice taking on a sing song quality.

Shadow couldn't help but laugh. "Sleep first. There will be plenty of time for that later. Besides, I am so tired right now- I doubt it would be any good."

As Shadow spoke, he reached over to where Grubak was sitting and gently began lazily running a finger over the Orc's armored chest- both knew that he was tracing Grubak's tattoos, one of his favorite things to do. After a moment, the Orc reached up and gently grabbed the Khajiit's wrist.

"Alright," he said. "I'm gonna go help Raven. You get some rest- 'f I come back 'nd you're still on your feet, I'm gonna break your legs."

Shadow laughed at the Orc turning his own threat against him, and suddenly that summer day didn't seem so long ago. Grubak was smiling broadly; he rarely got the best of the Master Assassin in their verbal sparring. Shadow pulled the Orc in for a long kiss.

"Alright lover," he said after breaking the embrace. "I will- do not worry about me."

With another kiss, the Orc rose and departed; taking off in the direction that Raven-Eye had gone, leaving Shadow alone in the clearing. Still nude, the Khajiit walked over to the pack he had prepared for Grubak and pulled out his bedroll, which he unrolled in the center of the clearing and climbed into it. He lay there looking at the clear blue sky, allowing himself to purr contentedly, feeling that all was right with the world, somewhere along the way he finally fell asleep.