Sleeping for a few hours does wonders.

Now well-rested, I head to the jail to see this Sindig fellow. How can a person, even a Nord, just tear a little girl to pieces? I don't even know if a vampire could do that bare-handed. Something doesn't add up.

I met one of the jailors.

That's a pretty sorry fate. Sure, I took an arrow to the shoulder yesterday, and am not any worse for the wear, but this man doesn't seem like the type to use magical means of healing. Skyrim has a reputation as being a little superstitiously against magics, and Falkreath seems to be very traditional.

But I came to see Sindig, not sad guards. Sindig is in a rather unusual cell. The walls are much thicker compared to the normal jail, as are the bars. And for good reason, as Sindig explains: he is a werewolf. He lost all control of himself when he met the little girl, and transformed, blaming this on a cursed ring. He was told it would give him control over his lycanthropy, but it did quite the opposite. It also turns out the ring is Hircine's, the Daedric lord of the hunt. He wanted to appease Hircine by giving him the ring back, but then he attacked the girl and ended up in jail.

I figure I can help him out, and tell him I could maybe take that ring off his hands and put it into Hircine's. Sindig says that Hircine will only appear to great hunters, who slay mythic beasts - and there just happens to be one of those nearby - the White Stag. So I'm off to kill this deer, and Sindig transforms and escapes.

Finding and killing the deer was easy enough.

When I did, Hircine appeared just as promised. He tells me that Sindig stole the ring, and has now fled and gone into hiding. Hircine, always enjoying a good hunt, has called a Great Hunt - for Sindig. The one that can present Sindig's (presumably werewolf) skin to Hircine will gain his favor - and there are advantages to having the favor of a Daedric Lord.

So off I go to the place Hircine indicated.

Lovely name.

I get there, and the first thing I see is a camp full of dead hunters. Looks like Sindig got the drop on them; no wonder Hircine called this hunt Great.

Sindig isn't far away; he tries to get me to help him - more hunters were not far behind me - but I figure slighting a Daedric Lord isn't the best idea, as his present predicament indicates. He runs from me, but into the other hunters. They prove no match for Sindig, but they ain't mages like me. It's close, but I manage to get him. After skinning him, Hircine comes again, congratulating me, and then makes some armor out of Sindig's skin, calling it the Savior's Hide.

Not very fetching. I think I'll stick with my robes.

This of course takes all day, so I stop back at the inn for the night.