Following the Seeker’s Sight I discover that the second aspect of the Celestial Mage has taken up refuge deep in a cave known as Hircine’s Haunt. I need not ask the locals, caravan drivers, or tavern patrons for bruit or rumour about what to expect, what better name could disciples of the Huntsman choose to call their den.
Since the fall of the constellations more and more of central Craglorn has become overrun by the Greycloak mercenaries. They openly pillage unchallenged upon the central wastelands, and their dedication to their daedric prince Hircine is thought to rival that of even the great lycanthropic packs of the Reach.
Growing up in Cyrodill, lycanthropy was very much decried as a curse. If fact when I first joined the Legions, recruits were told if they were unlucky enough to became afflicted, they should surrender themselves to their superiors before they infected their friends and comrades… or worse, fed upon them.
The first time I encountered werewolves in packs was at the gates of Aldcroft in Glenumbra. It was further north in the city of Camlorn that I was to witness first hand the brutal devastation an organized pack could cause. That city’s liberation was a bloody affair indeed. I know not to this day whether the followers of Faolchu the Reborn chose to accept Hircine’s gift, or were conscripted to it, but they seemed to willingly fully discard their human form.
At the village of Kerbol’s Hollow in Bangkorai however, it was very much thought of as a curse, yet one they attempted, in their own way, to live with. I have heard tale that Arkay’s priests are capable of performing a ritual to purge ones body of the affliction, but in truth I cannot recall ever meeting one who has recovered to tell the tale.
Whatever their viewpoint, whether gift or curse, blessing or bane, there is only one certainty for those unfortunate recipients of Hircine’s gift, the promise of an eternity roaming the savage Hunting Grounds upon their death.