Once inside the building, Ma'kara looked over to see that Hasir had stopped, frozen in place with a grimace of pain etched on his
reptilian face. Hasir staggered backwards, slumped against a nearby wall and slid down it, breathing heavily.
Ma'kara looked at him, concerned.
"Hasir, what is wrong? Your face is whiter than my fur." Ma'kara said, a little worried
She scanned the argonian from head to toe and stopped when she saw an angry, red puncture wound on the right side of his body.
Thick, red blood was soaking his miner's shirt. Ma'kara craned her neck to have a better look at the effected area and saw, to her
astonishment, that the armor appeared undamaged. The pain was too much for Hasir to handle and he fainted.
Ma’kara reached into her bag that she had placed on the floor beside her, pulled out a reddish potion bottle and was about to
administer the healing potion to Hasir when the skin seemed to repair itself. Ma'kara gasped audibly, she was lost for words. She had
never heard of wounds repairing themselves that fast. She tipped the potion in the argonian's mouth anyway as he did not seem to
wake up, even after his wound miraculously healed. Hasir's eyes slowly opened.
"Ma'kara, what am I doing on the floor?" Hasir croaked.
Ma'kara told him to relax and that he had just passed out from the exorbitant amount of blood he had lost. Hasir stood up slowly.
She told him that she had a suit of light armor that she had picked up in her travels that can replace his armor, that now was
stained with blood. She handed him the armor and he took off his blood-stained iminer's shirt. She turned her back until he was
outfitted in the new armor. She turned back around to see him outfitted in a black fur hood, black armor with gold inlays and a
golden wolf situated six inches below his right shoulder and matching black furred boots and gauntlets. He grabbed his bag and slung
it over his shoulder.
As they walked down the six steps to the main chamber, a guard asked them if they were supposed to be here. Hasir took out a
letter from his leather bag and handed it to the guard. After reading the letter, the guard opened the pair of small wooden doors and
waved them to go in. The argonian and the khajiit found themselves in a large room with a table in the center and two rooms
branching off of the main chamber. There also was a room with stairs leading to the upper cells in the northeast corner of the
chamber.
Hasir was about to proceed to the lower cellblock when Ma'kara put a hand on his shoulder, Hasir stopped and looked back. She
gasped when she saw that he had three scars threathening to cover his left eye. She swore angrily at herself. How come she had
just now noticed the scars?
"Hasir, Ma'kara has a question that she hopes lizard can answer." She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, "How did you
get that scar on your eye?"
"Ma'kara" He said, smiling "That is a long story, I don't think you'd care to hear it."
Hasir looked and saw Ma'kara had given him the 'sad kitty' eyes. Hasir sighed and began.
"A few years ago, I was on a mission given to me by Molag Bal, I had to go to Solsthiem as a sort of test to prove myself to be a
part of this coven my family was a part of called the Whetfang coven. I went to the island determined not to let lord Dagon down."
Ma'kara was hanging on every word that he said with baited breath.
Hasir continued his tale,
"I was venturing near the greystone fort they have there, Fort Frostmoth, when three werewolves appeared out of nowhere and
attacked me."
To this, Ma'kara gasped,
"Surely you did not turn into one of them?"
Hasir sighed again, he said that he fought off two of the three werewolves. Ma'kara asked about the third werewolf. He lowered his
voice so that Ma'kara could hear him,"The third one, he scratched me." he muttered, feeling ashamed. Ma'kara said how horrible
that must have been for him and thanked him for recounting the tale to her. She and Hasir pressed on further into the jail where a
wooden room with twelve cells, six on the lower levels and six on the upper level spread out in front of them.
Hasir turned to the first cell on the left and saw a blue khajiit with a white chin and white tiger-like warpaint on his face, sitting alone
in a cell., His only friend seemed to be a dragonfly in a jar. The jar was placed on a wooden dresser that, Hasir could see, even
through the bars, was littered with candles of various sizes. Hasir whistled to Ma'kara to pick the cell's lock because, he confessed,
he was no good at lockpicking. Ma'kara took a lockpick out of her leather bag and set to work on the lock. After a minute there was a
'click' and she swung the cell gate open.
Inside the cell, Hasir and Ma'kara could see the khajiit they spotted earlier. He was strikng up a conversation with a dragonfly. Hasir
screwed his face up as he saw this rather odd exchange of words. He shrugged it off and went in anyway. He strode over to a bed
that lay behind the khajiit, undid the leather straps of his armor, boots and gloves and set the armor on the floor in front of the bed,
leaning them agaiinst the foot board. He took off the hood and placed it in the same orientation.
The khajiit felt his fur on the back of his neck prickle, as if someone was there who shouldn't be. He turned and saw a dark green
argonian sitting on the bed staring at him, he had on a miner's shirt and brown trousers.
"Hello stranger, come to kill me at last?" He asked
The lizard gave him a look like he did not know how to respond. Hasir had not meant to harm someone he barely knew. Hasir told
the khajiit he had no intention to harm him.
"Surely you know that you shot me with an arrow that left me partly blind in my left eye while I was on a mission for my homeland
of Elsweyr." the khajiit stated.
Hasir's brow furrowed, as if it was mulling over a difficult question. "E-excuse me," Hasir stammered, "Who are you?"
The khajiit got up, walked over to the small bed covered in fur and straw and sat next to the argonian,
"My name is Inigo," the khajiit said, "What is your name?"
The Argonian said his name was Hasir. Upon closer inpection of the blue khajiit, Hasir could see that he had black pupils surrounded
by orange irises and three equidistant scratches that ran across his nose and three more stretching from the bottom of his left eye to
the tip of his nose. The argonian called out to Ma'kara and told her to come over and meet Inigo.
Ma'kara came over and, upon seeing her, Inigo's eyes went wide, his skin was laden with sweat and he felt emotions he never felt
before. He saw Ma'kara walking over to the bed where they sat. Inigo moved closer to Hasir in order to give the snowy-white khajiit
room to sit down.
Ma'kara sat down and the two khajiit introduced each other. Inigo blushed as Ma'kara put her paw-like hand in his. Hasir turned his
head toward the blue khajiit and saw that he and the snowy khajiit were smitten for each other. Over the next few hours, Hasir told
them about how he was made to be part of a werewolf pack that operated on Solsthiem, known as the frostmoon pack. He then
asked them if they would like to be a part of the pack as well.
"Will it hurt? What are the benefits and drawbacks of this disease?" Inigo and Ma'kara said as one.
Hasir told the khajiit about the enhanced speed, eyesight and strength that they would receive, they would be much stronger than a
normal man, mer, or beast. Hasir's smile quickly faded as he told them of the disadvantage in being a lycanthrope. He told them that
they willl be weak to silver. He then went on to describe the role that silver would play if they happened to become afflicted by the
metal.
"Silver", Hasir went on, "Will act as a poison tthat burns your blood, hindering your ability to heal quickly. He turned to the pair of
shocked khajiit and explained that all lycanthropes have this healing ability. He face suddenly became serious again. "even though
you will not instantly die from silver, you will suffer for a while before you actually do die."
He got up from his perch on the bed and looked at them while his wolf banged against the confines of his cranium, begging to
pass on the gift.
Hasir put his hand on on Inigo's knee, lowering his voice as if he was talking to a child.
"Are you sure about this? If I do this, it cannot be undone, well this is not entirely true as there is a cure, but, that is incredibly
involved and incredibly difficult. Who wants to be cured anyway? this gift was bestowed upon me by Hircine. Giving this gift up
would be foolish."
Inigo and Ma'kara nodded in unison, saying that they want to make those that shunned them suffer. Silvery moonlight shone
through the small window that stood about two feet above the chair that Inigo inhabited mere minutes before. Inigo and Ma'kara
saw that Hasir's body bend at odd angles as every bone in his body broke and reformed. He was in his white wolf form once again.
His black wolf was stalking in the shadows, waiting with baited breath. Frost bared his teeth and lunged at the two khajiit and
gave a quick slash to both their stomachs.
They fainted because the pain in their guts was too great. When the khajiit awoke hours later, he found Hasir sitting on the bed
again. He smiled broadly at him. Hasir asked Inigo and Ma'kara how they were faring after being attacked by his wolf. Inigo said that
he was fine. He then looked over his shoulder at the still unconscious form of Ma'kara.
"That is more than I can say for Ma'kara." A worried look came over his face.
Hasir walked over to the bluish-purple khajiit and knelt down to feel the female khajiit's forehead, it felt cold to the touch.
"She's out cold!" Hasir gasped.
He looked over to Inigo and saw that the usual smile had gone from his furry face. Hasir looked up at the khajiit and asked if
everything was okay. The khajiit nodded and said everything was fine, even though he did not feel he was being honest.
Hasir got up and beckoned to Inigo to help him lift Ma'kara and bring her over to the bed.
Inigo began to break into hysteric sobs, "Hasir, what are we going to do? If she doesn't wake up..."
He sat on the bed, positioning himself so he sat near Ma'kara's head, and started stroking the white fur on the khajiit's head.
Hasir hissed at Inigo, out of anger, "Ssilence, Inigo, I am trying to disscern why sshe iss uncosciouss. Thiss may take ssome time."
Hasir scanned the khajiit from head to toe, prodding her every inch of the way down. He then examined her eyes; He saw no visible
scars or puncture wounds, frowned and then slumped into the chair close to the bed.
He lowered his head and covered it with his hands.
"I don't know what to do..I examined every inch of her." He sobbed
Inigo stopped stroking Ma'kara's white fur, when he did so, he reached over to her mouth to wipe something off of it. He found a line
of grayish-blue dust on her lips, swept the dust into a unoccupied pocket of his brown trousers and leapt off of the bed. He
triumphantly thumped Hasir on the shoulder which made Hasir lift his head.
The lizard looked intently at Inigo,
"Hasir, I found something you need to see."
The khajiit took his hands out of his pockets, Inigo presented his left hand to the lizard and opened it. Hasir saw in the khajiit's
outstretched hand a pile of grayish-blue dust. Hasir opened his mouth to speak.
"How interesting, I have never seen dust like this, we need to find out where this came from, and also..." His voice trailed off as
his head snapped over to a dark corner of Inigo's cell, his eyes saw...somethiing hiding in that corner. It took his brain sometime to
catch up.
A figure stepped out of the shadows, he had the body of an snake. The figure slithered over to Hasir, making sure to stay
completely in the shadows so Hasir could not see the intruder. The figure moved like flowing water, quickly and silently behind
the argonian, he put one hand over Hasir's mouth and spoke, all while placing a wakisashi firmly between the lizard's
shoulderblades.
"You thought you could escape me? Like the tiger would evade the dragon? How naive you must think I am" He sneered
The figure pressed the dagger into his scaly green skin, shaving off a few scales. Hasir struggled against Quinchal's firm grip. His tail
thrashed around wildy. After a few seconds of trying to pivot the tseasci's arm to try to get free, he finally managed to free himself
Hasir spun around and faced Quinchal. He saw that the tsaesci's eyes went from their normal pink color to a brighter, ruby-red color.
Tsaesci eyes turn ruby-red when they are either under distress or angry. Quinchal was angry because he felt the lizard had ostricized
the tseasci from his tsaesci society and his family by making him a wolf. Tsaesci ate wolves. Quinchal was angry because Hasir
both besmirched his ancestry and fouled the tsaesci bloodline by transforming one of their number into a child of Hircine rather than
than letting him living his life as a servant of Molag Bal.
Quinchal swore at Hasir, "I was content to remain a vampire, instead you...made...me...into...a...monster." Quinchal took his dagger
and attempted to stab the Argonian in the chest. Hasir, practiced in the martial arts, brought his hands up to block the dagger. When
the dagger was an inch from his sternum, he put one hand one on the dagger and the other on Quinchal's arm and quickly, he
brought the tsaesci's arm behind his back and twisted it, while Hasir's other arm forced the tsaesci's free wrist downwards. This
action forced Quinchal to drop the dagger.
Hasir delivered a swift crescent kick to Quinchal's chest, making him fly backwards. He smashed into the black bars that stood at the
entrance of the cell. The force of the explosion carried both the bars and Quinchal backwards. They both hit the wall next the
opposite cell with enough force to break, or at the very least put a massive dent in, the stones.
Hasir finished his crescent kick so that his right foot was behind his left foot and he lowered his hands. Hasir went over to the stone
wall directly opposite of where he stood and found Quinchal laying on his back, gasping for air. Hasir bent down, pulled him to his
feet and apologized.
"I am sorry Quinchal, I had no other option, but, you were acting very out-of-character. I just had to use my martial arts skills to
snap you out of whatever possessed your mind." He shook his head as if to get his thoughts back on track.
"However, now is not the time to bicker and argue about past grievances, we have a fallen comrade", he gestured to the bed "that
needs tending to, do you know who or what did this?" Suddenly, Hasir stopped talking. He started gasping for air, something was
wrong, did he inhale the dust the Inigo had presented to him or was this an allergic reaction? Hasir's throat felt like it was closing,
he tried to form his thoughts into words but when he spoke, none came out.
Hasir fell to the floor, writhing about like a fly that has its legs ripped off. The cell started to fade as he lost consciousness. When he
awoke, Hasir saw blue light shining through the rusted tan bars of his cage. In front of him was a grayish-blue door flanked by a
skeleton that looked like he died waiting for something on the left side and a blindingly bright bluish-white crystal flanked the right
side. The floor of the cell that was covered in brown dirt seconds before was now covered in blue stones mixed with grayish-blue
dirt. below him was a set of four large steps encircling a round platform with a sacrificial altar sitting in the middle of the platform.
Hasir blinked violently to reattune himself to his surroundings. Hasir wrestled against the impossibly solid bars of his miniscule
prison. Hasir fought for a minute longer and then a lightbulb went on in his head. He snaked his tail into his left rear pocket and
wrapped it around two items, one long with a right angle at the end of it, and the other, a straight metal object which was filed down
at the end.
Hasir grabbed the lockpick and probe and repositioned himself, which was an impressive feat in and of itself, so his head and hands
were near the lock and put the lockpick and the probe into the lock. He moved them around, fiddling with the tumblers of the lock
until he heard a click. He was caught offguard because he failed to calculate the distance between his body and the floor below. He
fell flat on his back with a loud THUD.
An unusually loud voice came and echoed around the empty chamber. Hasir felt a mix of annoyance and anger when he heard the
voice.
"Molag Bal, what a surprise. Hasir sneered. "By Hircine, can't you just let this dog lie in peace?" Hasir asked
"Hasir, how nice of you to drop in." Molag Bal said, laughing
"Why have you trapped me? Speak or you'll regret it." Hasir threatened
Let's see if the hero can rescue the damsel, better hurry because my minions can't resist fucking a cat." He said, roaring with
malicious laughter once more
Hasir knew he was talking about Ma'kara. Hasir's face became an unamible mask of red hot rage. He was so glad that he allied
himself with Hircine instead of this twisted maniac who evidently enjoys causing people pain.
Hasir's face screwed up into a mask of both revulsion and hatred,
"Don't you dare lay a finger on her, you fucking bastard!"
Molag Bal did not respond he just laughed that high, cold laugh of his, it went on and on and on for what seemed like three
minutes, though Hasir was unsure of how time worked in this realm of Oblivon...or even if there was time at all.
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