Blackwater Islands devourer

pretend this is better dated to when he asked her to bring it...
@Ingram this can be a read-only or he can respond, whatever works best for you!

she had scared a goat from the edge of the nearby mountain.

it fell in an ugly manner and enigma found a wave of relief for it.

she devoured her fill and then picked it as much as she could. now she returned with the grand price for his grand kindness. off to the island she went, slow and slogging. the saltwater loosened some of the things left on the skull. a kindness from the sea once more, she assumed.

when her feet met solid and sandy land again, she set down the price.

tilted her head back and let loose a low call.

she had come with his asked favor.

she would wait for an hour or two before she departed.

the call rises; cutting thru the velveteen colors of the newborn night, a darkness broken by the sweet buttery light of the full moon.

it lights their path as they make their way to enigma though they know not her name; of whom to their surprise has come to pay the debt price. a soft shudder slithers down their spine; of delight, borne of the assumed magicks they feel in the air.

they approach along the cool sands, taking in the scene. a goat's skull with approval that rumbles over the rise and fall of the waves; steps ceasing as they draw near.

the debt is paid.

he arrived once more.

she postured herself with respect before him, ears turned towards his words.

the debt.

that's what this had been, but she cannot help but wonder what a deal this might be to make. barracuda boss seems to have plenty to offer. even if the islands seem eerily silent in the night.

will you need more?

she licked her lips.

with the pressing absence of their nightwife and shadowchildren, the islands are void of life except for him and the wildlife who made it their home long ago. it is a void within the dreadfather that they feel keenly; a chill that settles into their bones. but they remain. against all odds. against the hoarse whispers of the voiddwellers that slyly encourage them to move on. to keep doing their fated work and that their nightwife would find her way to them always. regardless.

it is only when she speaks that the dreadfather realizes their attention was zeroed in on the hollowed eyesockets of the skull; peering into the seething shadows as if it were a window into the void itself.

it was but it was not beneficial to lose themselves at the moment.

more —

they always needed — wanted — more. such was the nature of the daedric prince. lack of satisfaction was synonymous with their lack of empathy.

what would you desire in return? the dreadfather rumbles the question, understanding that everything had a price.

"what would you desire in return?"

another lick of her lips.

he understood the ancient arts of a trade.

knowledge. she confessed in a heavy breath. without it i will die here.

did he understand? he had seen her, fresh born from the sea along his shores.

ritual things; offerings to them and trinkets to add to their reading bones in exchange for knowledge.

it sounded fair enough; at the very least like something they were willing to trade on.

ask what you wish to know, commands the dreadfather in their smoky rumble. and i will determine what the knowledge i share is worth. i will expect payment as soon as you are able.

if not hangs unspoken and all the same ominous in the snapping of the seawinds upon the air. they suspect she is good for it: for she brought them this prize. even so, they feel pressed to apply pressure to subtly mention the fact that they do not offer their knowledge for free. to keeping playing this game, the dreadfather thinks she must be desperate. for surely, there were wolves who would offer her information without a price.

certainly creatures more friendly than the believed god of the abandoned islands.

she nodded her head, sharp and understanding. respectful of his conditions.

first, i wish to hear more of your island here. you seem like a boss. but there was nothing but ghosts.

the island was devoid of life beyond them. drenched in shadows and secrecy.

some part of her could not understand, as much as another part could.

she wished to know of blackwater. but ...what was there to tell? tales of the druids that had once called it home before the spirit realm called them elsewhere? they were sad lores, leaving the dreadfather to be the iron guardian of a once was. that was not my role here, they explain. i was the iron guardian of these islands while the druids once called it home. now i am it's lonely sentry. somewhere, they know, their nightwife wandered ...but it was not here.

soon, when winter is upon here, i will have to leave. survival tells them so.

lips licked.

ears turned toward him.

she was practically the image of a disciple at his feet, clinging to the words he spoke. yet they were empty, without value to her search. an iron guardian turned lonely sentry.

faces did not wait in the woods or shadows. he was not a man leading shadows.

something close to disappointment sagged in her stomach.

he proclaimed his need to move on from this haunt. to her. she does not know why.

where?

the string of unspoken words of wanting to know where she could find him.

a soft sort of hunger grips them; a want for companionship they are void of with their wandering nightwife. though it is never lonely in their voiddreams and when they walk, awake thru the spirit realm ...it strikes true in the here and now.

it startles them; though their seaglass gaze does not avert from her.

sacrarium, the name of the pack the woman named ash paw dwells within comes to their tongue, taking form and mooring in their harbor of truth.

a pause; a consideration. a strong chance that the wolves of that pack might not accept them. they were borne to rule and that might ultimately get in their way.

maybe. if they'll take me. they add in the next breath. or perhaps i will build something of my own. the threads of which would become hauntingly apparent in the weeks to come but remained yet unknown to them.

another pause is given. your debt is paid and i should take my leave. with this, they depart ...wondering if they will see her again.