Akavii and the Companions

Hired Muscle

He stepped away, but turned on his heel and added, "By the way, if you're looking for something to do. . . We've gotten letter about someone needing some muscle right here in Whiterun hold. I don't know what the fight is about, and it's none of our business anyway. I just need you to go out there, look tough, and scare this milk-drinker into submission. No more than that. I don't want to hear about a killing, understand?"

"Dang it!" I whispered hastily. "I can handle that," I told him.

"Try not to get carried away," he warned.

"Finally, some action!" I yelled. I grabbed a boiled cream treat from a platter, Tilma the maid, offered as I rushed out of the mead hall. I had to confront Danica Pure-Spring, a priestess of the Wind Goddess, Kynareth. She was found sitting on a bench in front of the healed Gildergreen tree.

"I've been sent to solve a dispute," I said, unsheathing my claws.

"You can't scare me into submission," she spat, laughing at me. "Let's go!" She held up her fists. "Come on, let's see what you're made of!"

Citizens crowded around us as she threw a punch at me. I held my fists up to my face and blocked the swing. My claws scraped over her eye effortlessly.
"By Ysmir, you'll pay for that!" she screeched as she threw another punch at me. I slugged her square in the nose, feeling it crack on my knuckles. Finally, I swung my tail at the back of her knees, causing her to stumble backwards. She spat blood from her mouth.

"You're tougher than you look," she began, catching her breath. "You got me, fair and square."

"You know what you have to do," I said, pointing at her accusingly.

The crowd dispersed and I waltzed back into the mead hall, grabbing a tankard of water. Farkas was found waiting patiently by the door.

"Ugh, send me on a real challenge next time, all right? Anyway, I took care of the problem."

"I saw. I was outside training when I heard the shouts. I figured you had it in you. Well done."

"Got another task for me before I hit the hay?" I chugged down the rest of the water and handed it to Tilma.

"Skjor was looking for you earlier," he explained.

"What does he want?" I grabbed a piece of salmon steak and seared slaughterfish.

"Don't know. He just said he needed to talk to you before you did anything else. I don't like making him angry, but there's more work if you want it."

"I'll deal with Skjor in the morning. Right now, I just want to sleep." I said goodnight and flopped on a bed in the living quarters, dreaming of fangs, fur, and spilled blood.