The Last Dovataur –

Misfire









"Michelle! Watch out!" The Knight yelled to his companion as a trinity of spells flashed over his head towards her. The Dragontaur turned to face their adversaries as the spells struck her

flank

, sending the

The Last Dovataur

–



Ancient Halls.






The Dragontaur awoke from her slumber in in the Jarl’s longhouse, and hauled herself to her feet, surveying the wreckage around her. ‘What a night…’

She mused silently

The Last Dovataur – Falkreath.






“Good

morning sugar

.” Michelle

greeted

with a yawn. “It’s

time to wake up

." Reaching over, she petted his furry muzzle gently as

The Last Dovataur –

The R

oad to Falkreath.








Michelle

stifled a yawn

as she knocked loudly on the plain wooden door.

She had awoken with a hangover some hours before

The Last Dovataur –

Ivarstead.






Rob

checked his map for the third time in as many minutes, doing his best to ignore the frustrated Taur looming overhead.

"Well, we're smack bang in between Ivarstead and Shor

's Stone, and there's no closer, inhabited,

The
Last Dovataur - Choosing Sides.
Rob
awoke slowly from sleep, letting out a groan as his stiff joints
complained in the cold morning air. They had walked far the night
before, and the stay in the stone chamber had done little good.
Rolling to one side, the Wolf pulled the blanket tight about his
shoulders and sat up in bed, glancing to the left and right for his
Dragontaur companion. "Michelle?" The room was empty.
The
taur was in a sour mood as she searched through the stores in th

The
Last Dovataur – New Horizons.
Rob
woke slowly that morning, opening his eyes to a soft white wall of
delicate scales, and felt the steady, rhythmic beating of his
friend's heart. He blinked and looked up at her slumbering form,
taking in her new, enhanced body. "Wow, that must've been some
dinner. Hey, Michelle?"
The
Dragontaur mumbled in her sleep, pulling the wolf close to her chest.
He struggled, slowly pulling himself free of her grasp and skipping
away as she rolled onto her

The
Last Dovataur - The Adventure Begins.
In
a world where dragons are again reborn, hunting the the skies of
Tamriel, one last dragontaur remains bound to the land. As she strode
through the woodlands north of Whiterun, the noon sun lit the black
scales on her back, and the white on her belly, jaw and tail. Wearing
no armour save that she was born with and a tight fitting cover of
leather which barely stretched across her chest. Her back and sides
were criss-crossed with packs and satchels, car