C.O.T.W Chapter 6: A Tale of Murkmire

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    Hasir shook off his negative thoughts of himself and his mind snapped back to the dire situation that he was in. Just then, he

    remembered something. He had not seen Ma'kara with him he turned to Quinchal.

    "Quinchal, where is Ma'kara? Why is she not with you?" 

     

    Quinchal lowered his head in shame, "I am sorry, but she was killed by Bloodfang. It was my fault I should have protected her and

    killed Bloodfang when I had the chance."

     

    Hasir looked stunned. To lose Ma'kara after everything that they had been through together was really hard forhim to take in. He

    ooked at the tsaesci with an apologetic expression on his face.

     

    Hasir shook this off, knowing it would not do any good to live forever in pity.

    "Let's try to focus on the positive and not wallow in self pity, it was not your fault Quinchal, She will be missed."

     

    Hasir moved over to the blue-gray stone wall that stood behind where his shackles were.

    "Does anyone know of a way out of this place?" He felt the undulations of the wall as if he they was a switch hidden within the

    stone.asked them with a questioning look on his face. 

     

    Quinchal said that he could warp them back the way that he got in here. Hasir asked Quinchal how exactly he got in here. He said

    it was a standard trick every vampire has in their arsenal. He said it was called dematerialization. He said it only works one way.

     

    Hasir threw his hands up in frustration and slid down the wall he was inspecting and put his head in his hands. 

    "Great, how in Hircine's name are we supposed to get back then? Without a way back, we're just sitting ducks." 

    Hasir turned away from Quinchal and faced the tribal leader,

    "Istansehk, do you know a way out of here?"

     

    Iskenaaz smiled.

    "How fortunate for you that I have a...well...special way around Tamriel." 

     

    Hasir and Quinchal's brows furrowed, "how would he teleport us? He obviously used some primitive method." They thought,

    snickering to themselves. Iskenaaz had heard this, even though the two lizards did their best to hide it.

     

    "I teleported with the help from my son, Xukas. He invoked the will of Sithis to open a portal to this exact spot. Sithis, of course,

    told us how to open a portal here and how to pinpoint the location of a distant family member. That family member was you, Hasir."

    He said, pointed to Hasir.

     

    Hasir looked confuse.

    "Me? But I am not part of your family, I was raised in blackmarsh-that is true-but I-it was under the watchful eye of my guardians

    Drujeeta and Juleen. As I said before: You are not my real father."

     

    After he said this, he turned from Iskenaaz and faced the wall once more. Iskenaaz walked from the wall he was leaning against to

    Hasir. He put a clawed hand on the argonian's shoulders. He sighed and tried to impart the hard truth to Hasir, but how would one

    do so to a reptile who refuses to believe that which is presumed preposterous?

     

    "Look, Hasir, I know this is hard for you to believe, but, like it or not, I am your father, well a friend of your father's. There is no

    changing that. Drujeeta and Juleen, they took you from us when our homeland of Blackmarsh was engulfed by the great flame. They

    raised you from an egg, you did not have a chance to know your egg brother or your mate-to-be."

     

    "I already told you I plan to make Rakel my mate." Hasir growled in frustration. "I thought we discussed this matter already." Hasir

    then looked down at the floor, "if Drujeeta and Juleen weren't my real parents as you say and also if I take into account what you

    say is true about you and this other lizard giving birth to me, then who are the Argonians who I thought were my parents?"

    Iskenaaz grew flustered that his 'son' did not recognize him as his birth father but he took a deep breath to maintain a level head.

    "Okay, First of all, your mother has a name, it is Kassamae and I suggest that you call her by that name or use the moniker 'Mom'

    instead of calling her 'this other lizard.' Secondly, Drujeeta and Juleen are your aunt and uncle. Like I said, they raised you from an

    egg and into an competent adult." 

     

    Hasir turned around and Iskenaaz could see three scars cover his rright eye. He asked how Hasir got those scars.

    His 'son' sighed, "Promise me you won't get mad."

     

    Iskenaaz said he promised and gestured for Hasir to tell his tale.

    "Okay then, I got these scars when I was doing a quest for the whetfang coven, while on this mission, I became infected with Sanis

    Lupinus." Hasir noticed the vacant look on his father's face. "werewolfism, in lame man's speak." Hasir hung his head in shame.

    Iskenaaz looked puzzled, "Son, why did you infect yourself with such evil?"

     

    Hasir said he had no choice in the matter of getting mauled by werewolves on Solstheim. Just then silver light shone through the

    single window in Hasir's cell. Both Quinchal and Hasir transformed into wolves, one gray and the others black and white. Ishkenaaz

    shrieked and started backing away from Hasir and hit the back wall of the cell, too scared to move.

    "What? What is this devilry? By sithis, someone explain, NOW!" He almost screamed the last world, more out of fear than anger.

    The next morning, Hasir woke early to find Quinchal and Iskenaaz still sleeping. He crept over to the platform where his former

    prison stood, the once gowing-blue schackles now hanging like heads that were improperly decapitated. He knelt down, folded his

    hands on his lap and began to pray.

     

    "Lord Hircine, help me please, send me a sign for I have no idea if what this Argonian says is true. Is he my true father? Is Drujeeta

    really my aunt? What am I to believe? Please wolflord, help me." At the last word, tears were streaming down Hasir's face.

     

    just then, a booming voice echoed throughout the stone cell, though only Hasir could hear it because the others were fast asleep.

    "what is it, my loyal hound?" when the voice came, it sounded annoyed, possibly because this slimy lizard had ripped it away

    from the enjoyment of watching his children hunt.

     

    "Well, I, erm, I was wondering if you you could shed some light on whether that argonian." He pointed over to the right corner of the

    room where Iskenaaz slept, "is my real father or not."

     

    "My Hound, all you have to is wake him and ask." With that, the voice vanished. 

     

    Hasir did not need to wait long to wake Iskenaaz, however, as theArgonian was already wiping the sleep out of his eyes. He looked

    to his left and Quinchal was waking too.

    Hasir got up and walked over to Iskenaaz and asked the dark green-scaled argonian to tell him everything. How he and his mother

    met and about Murkmire. The argonian abliged and said to answer that he had to go all the way back to the beginning, well actually

    not too far back, just far enough to tell Hasir of the events that preceded his arriving on Morrowind. 

     

    Hasir sat on a bit of rubble; his tail swaying back and forth as he awaited Iskenaaz to divulge his tale.

    "Son, before you were spirited away on that ship long ago, we, meaning your mother, egg-brother and I were doing our daily

    chores outside the hut when your mother, Kassamae, started complaining of pressure in the part of the body that contained the egg

    sack, He answered Hasir's questioning look with a 'yes, I know that sounds weird but it's how we reproduce' smile. "Anyway," He

    went on "we brought her to the egg-minders."

     

    Hasir had never heard of this term 'egg-minder' before. He asked what they were. "They obviously are something like lizards that

    mind eggs." Hasir said that this was a stupid thought. Quinchal shot Hasir a nasty look.

    "Hasir, shut up and let our guest finish his damn story please." Quinchal almost growled at him. Then he added, in a much softer

    voice so no one could hear, "Damn argonians. When will they learn? They think they are so damn improtant they will interrupt other

    creatures' stories to hear their own fucking lips flap." Quinchal was beyond angry at Hasir's bull-headedness. He had never met an

    argonian before him, but, if he did, he would quickly realize that they would not be so narcassistic and rude as this Argonian was.

     

    Quinchal turned to Iskenaaz, "Please continue your fascinating story, Iskenaaz, my friend apologizes for interrupting you." He turned

    back to Hasir and snarled, "Don't you Hasir?" Hasir shrugged.

     

    "Whatever, what do I care about some tale about where I came from? I could be born in the stars for all I care."

     

    He spat on the ground to solidify his point. Quinchal came up from behind him, grabbed him with a clawed hand and led Hasir to a

    blue stone bench near where he quite literally shoved the stubborn lizard into a sitting position.

     

    "Hasir, sit down, shut the fuck up and let Iskenaaz tell the damn story!" He hissed at Hasir through gritted teeth, he then smiled at

    Iskenaaz and politely asked him to continue.

    The tribe leader cleared his throat and continued with his tale.

    "Hasir, look, I knew this is really hard on you and I am okay with your mistrust, but in time you will see me as your father." He

    pasued and then went on, "Anyway, you were born in the village of Lilmoth in the region of Murkmire, you were one of five

    hatchlings that the hist graced your mother with."

     

    Hasir looked like a dumb-founded child who had been asked a really tough math question, his hand shot into the air.

    "By the love of Sithis, put your hand down, we aren't school age here." Iskenaaz said, a tad embarrased.

     

    Hasir apologized. Iskenaaz said it was alright and bade Hasir just ask his question.

    "Excuse me if I sound stupid here, but who are the hist? Is that some kind of tree sap?"

     

    Iskenaaz shook his head and told Hasir that the hist are millenia year old trees that predate even him. He also told Hasir that when

    argonians hatch from their eggs they are brought to a copse of hist trees that grow near where the egg pools are. Once there, the

    hatchlings are attuned to the hist tree. The histsap then gives each hatchlings their purpose and name via storage units that lay

    within their roots.

     

    Hasir asked if he got his name the same way. Inkenaaz nodded. 

    "Does the hist also give Argonians free will?" Hasir noted Iskenaaz's puzzled expression, "What I mean by that is does the tree give

    argonians the ability to think and act for themselves," He was now pacing up and down his cell from one side to the other, "or is the

    tree a sort of hivemind, you know, erm, controlling their mind to think a certain way, therefore abandoning all hope of being with

    independent thought?"

    Iskenaaz shook his head, "No, they still have their faculties of thought intact therefore no such 'hivemind' as you call it, exists."  He

    turned away from the wall and faced Hasir once more, "Might I ask, why you have forsaken the dread father, Sithis and chose to

    follow the being you call Hircine?" 

     

    Hasir said that the answer to that question will be answered in due time, they need to find a way out of here. Iskenaaz mentioned

    that he could use the last of the magic that the Sithis-worshipping tribe had lent him to create a portal. He started weaving a very

    complex spell with his hands. When said spell was complete, a magnificent glowing white portal stood between the two argonians

    and the tsaesci. They stepped through it.

                                       

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