Thread: A Necromancer's Illusion ((Elder Scrolls, Charlie_Death & Shikokudarkstar))

Bloodlust had always been something Shavir fell into easily once he was a werewolf. To be pushed off of it so suddenly by a spell that shouldnt have taken him down was disconcerting. Home. The wolf inside him rumbled pleasurably, almost happy to be taken down by someone who smelled like home. The Nord and Altmer inside him rebelled. How dare someone half his size take him down? Granted with his mothers Atlmer blood and his fathers Nordic blood he was rather tall and thick, a size that was rather hard to beat. That didnt mean however that he didnt run across those who were. Flexing his clawed hands, Shavir felt around the illusion spells effects. He couldnt feel anything other than a mellow sense of peace. An annoying but effective effect in that he couldnt and wouldnt attack the man even though his mind wanted to. He really should have listened to his mothers teachings instead of following his battle lust that somehow overpowered the other three quarters of his heritage. Deciding to ignore the Bosmer for the moment, Shavir cast a very simple healing spell. It wouldnt clear the spell, just heal his wounds and keep his mind off of a different kind of feeling that was boiling through his veins. Since the hybrid mercenary wasnt a mage in any sense of the word besides one healing spell, he had no idea how it was that even with the calming illusion spell, his blood boiled. It wasnt rage, violent emotions like that were pushed away to the wayside. Instead, his blood was sent boiling from the distinct feeling of lust. It was embarrassing. His cock was rising even as he gently pushed it down. The Bosmer before him was his enemy, he knew that but being a werewolf had its disadvantages. Meaning the mans smell and the fact that he had been defeated in battle made the werewolf more than just a little horny. Of course, being exposed and feeling those intensely focused eyes on him wasnt really helping either. And dont even get him started on the fact he found the male body so much more attractive than he ever did the female body. Crossing swords was a bit of a pastime for Shavir in and out of the bed. That is if he could ever trust someone enough not to scream Khajiit when they saw him. A pain in the ass really, since he technically wasnt allowed in any city because of his feline blood. Of course he usually hid the embarrassing appendage. At that stray thought, he curled his tail around his thickly muscled thigh, away from the Bosmer who was entirely too fascinated with it. Upon remembering that the elf had asked question of his parentage, Shavir found himself curious to see what this man would have to say about his mixed parentage. No doubt some slur was going to be said about his mother but as he crossed his arms he still answered. My grandmother was a Nord who fell in love with a Khajiit traveling in the caravans. Im told it was a rather swift romance and they ended up having my father. My father traveled with the caravan a while before he met my mother. Shavir eyed the man wearily, One of the Thalmor wizards traveling across the whole of Skyrim. Upon seeing my fathers curious mixture she became fascinated and wanted to study him. Im told they ended up in bed together after she kept examining him. Nine months later I was born and my mother was thrown out of the Thalmor. From the lettered he received from the courier, the Thalmor were still trying to kill his family. Amazing how stuck up his mothers people could be. Then again it was one of the reasons why everyone tended to hate the Altmer so maybe it wasnt really all that amazing. One of the blessings of his mothers people was that no one really believed the Altmer would mix blood. People usually thought he was a tan Nord or a full-blood but light colored Altmer depending on how he rearranged his armors and if he showed his elven ears. Of course it also helped he was rather attractive. The mix of Altmer and Nordic skin came out to a lightly tan color without the sickly yellow full-blooded High Elves favored. His face was more built like a Nord with less harsh lines on the brow but still retained tilted eyes. The amber color was a throw-back from his grandfather but usually no one really paid attention to that. Gloves and boots kept the questions down on his claw-like nails but since he did have the body of a Nord, he really was quite muscular and tall like his mother had been. The tail and fur along his spine were the only thing that made Shavir unattractive. He had once tried to cut his tail off but the attempt had damaged a nerve along his spine and left him paralyzed until his mother fixed him. From then on he knew there could be nothing done for it so he hid it inside his pants or worked it off as a belt. Going shirtless of course wasnt an option with the fur and sex most certainly wasnt on the table until by another Khajiit. He found his Grandfathers people were rather open to him. Shavir ran a hand through his mane of blond hair, wild from his transformation. His tongue ran over his fangs as he watched the wood elf. The man didnt seem too perturbed by the mercenary looking ready to devour him. Of course if the elf was anything like his mother than the fact that he was alive was so much more interesting than the fact that he was going to pounce this bloody elf. You dont really smell like a necromancer. You dont smell of rotting corpses. The hybrid purred now and spoke in a husky tone, You smell of the wild woodlands. Even among all this death you smell of life. Shavir huffed pushing his raging hard-on down, shivering at the touch. What was it about this man that made him want to bend over and present himself? He might be the enemy but the more Shavir smelled this wild scent, the more he was fighting to keep his control. He was more like a feral beast most days. Smart, quick and resourceful but he tended to be easily misled by his own instincts and body.