With the tasks of two Draedric princes in hand, I decided should report back to the Companions instead - it's along the way anyway, and I was tasked to clear out the bandits at Roadside Ruins anyway, so I should at least report back. The Companions seemed impressed that I'd completed my task (guys... really? A spriggan did most of the work...).
Skjor thinks I'm ready to join the Circle - the body of senior leaders of the Companions. Skjor is obviously a poor judge of the situation. We met at night deep in the Underforge - a hidden cave under the Skyforge (obviously) - where I would be inducted. All of the Circle had partaken in the werewolf "blessing" and it seems to be a pre-requisite.
To some of the Circle, it truly is a blessing to be able to fight for longer and harder - upon death, their souls will return to Hircine to continue the hunt eternal. For others, the wolf blood is a curse that denied them proper entry to Sovngarde, the rightful place for the spirits of brave Nords. I am not a Nord, so I guess I'm not missing out... regardless, this is the only way to gain rank in the Companions, so I made my peace and drank the wolf's blood... arooooo
...and awoke in the open hillside with Aela looking over me. It was still night. There was some relief in her tone - they had thought that they had lost me to the wolf, permanently. (Apparently this can happen sometimes, though the Circle sees fit to withhold this information in their recruitment... that can't be smart, can it?)
The night is still young, and Skjor had led the three of us to Gallows Rock, a fortified complex to the east of Whiterun, where the Silver Hand had made their base. Our mission tonight - in true Hircine fashion - is to hunt the hunters and take the fight to the Silver Hand. Skjor had been impatient and had already ventured in. Aela and myself are to sweep up those he left behind.
Those he left behind are considerably formidable. The Silver Hand members keep in groups and don't wander alone. They're also alert and well armed. Whittling down their numbers by sniping is not an option. Thankfully Aela is with me, and we somehow made it through. We explored deeper into the base, a nagging sense of unease as we saw no sign of Skjor... we did find dozens of dead werewolves. Aela dismissed these as ‘lost ones’ - those that had received Hircine's blessing and became feral - easy to hunt down. I'm more skeptical... the Silver Hand is showing itself to be no mere zealous militia - they are methodical and well trained.
We dealt with the commander of the base - an orc with a particularly large entourage of bodyguards. We also found Skjor, sadly, dead. Aela was incredulous at the discovery at first, but conceded that even mighty Skjor might be overwhelmed in a fight against so many. The veteran Companion had chosen to go on ahead, and so there is no guilt to be had at his passing. He had gone down like a true warrior - in combat.
Solemnly, the two of us bore Skjor's body back to Jorrvaskr. Along the way, Aela swore revenge, and told me of her plan...
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