The cold hand of the malicous daedric lord shot out and grabbed hold of the mad god and his 'accomplices' just before they
teleported. An image of hircine's realm popped into his head as they 'jumped' between realities. Molag's Bal's grip tightened as the
image of the hunting grounds faded from the mad god's mind and was replaced by Coldharbour. Sheogorath tried to swim upstream
but the waters of his mind grew murky with Molag Bal's grip forming a whirlpool in the magickal waters and they all were sucked
into Molag Bal's unforgiving realm.
They fell through a menacing blue sky as trees rushed past them, dead trees not like the live one they saw on Tamriel and fell hard
on the grayish-blue soil. Sheogorath fell face first into the dirt, the former servants of Molag Bal fell in a star pattern sprawled out on
the soil and Twilight fell to the ground with the group but bounced off of the soil and landed, spread eagled on top of a pyramid-like
structure.
Everyone got up from where they lay and wondered where they were. They were all covered with bluish-gray dirt as the impact had
caked them in it. Twilight was the only lucky one as he fell not on the bluish-gray dirt but instead on the cold hard stone floor of the
pyramid. As if on cue, Sheogorath, the nord and the imperial stared at the giant structure looming in front of them and started to
climb the massive stone steps as if in a trance.
When they reached the top, a anchor with a blue portal at the center of it appeared and a man, er, daedra fell out of it. Landing on
his feet, he strode over to the pyramid,
"Ah, you are all here, good. For those who don't know me, I am Molag Bal. I bet you are wondering where you are right now." The
trio nodded. Sheogorath and Twilight just rolled their eyes as they have seen this horrid realm before. Though they have not seen
this particular section of it though.
Sheogorath inquired as to where exactly they were. Molag Bal stated they were in the lost village of Haj Uxith,
"You now find yourself in a long lost village once belonging to the ancestors of the miserable snakes who helped my enemy, the
betrayer known as Hircine, steal my love away from me."
Sheogorath looke skyward into the daedric lord's eyes and mocked him,
"Are we supposed to feel sorry for you? Is this how this thing works? NOPE SORRY, but thanks for playing. Now go away before I
lose my temper, hmm?" He asked, while making a shooing motion with his hand.
The mad god's black slitted puils remained fixed on Molag Bal's bright blue ones, almost like he was daring the lord of domination
to try to retaliate. The daedric lord of madness reached into his dual-color coat and pulled out the wabbajack. He aimed it at the
daedric lord, daring him to make a move.
Twilight regained his bearings, flipped onto his four paws, dug his claws deep into the stone and leapt off the pyramid structure,
known as a Xanmeer, and landed on the daedric lord's chest. Twilight bit and scratched every inch of the lord of domination, but to
no avail. Bal knocked the wolf aside with one swipe of his dust pan-sized hand. The poor wolf suomersaulted through the air and
smashed into a near wall of rock. Boulder-sized bits of rocks came loose and rained down upon the unconscious wolf who became
buried underneath the avalanche.
Sheogorath was livid with rage,
"Now you've made me angry, WABBAJACK!" An orb of red energy shot out of the staff and enveloped the daedric prince
He began spiraling downwards while he shrank in stature and sprouted wings and a beak. When the transformation was complete,
Sheogorath smirked slyly,
"Hey, Molag Bal can you hear me from down there? That is a good look for you, I always know you were... a big chicken," He slapped
his thigh hard as he laughed at his own clever jab at the former lord of domination, wiping a tear from his eye. "Wabbajack humor
never gets old." He said, sighing.
He turned and looked at the ynyang wolf, smiling evily,
"Sic 'im Mr. Wolf," He gestured towards the chicken, who was pecking at the dirt at the foot of the Xanmeer.
Twilight bounded down the steps toward the transfigured daedra, tongue hanging between his pointy fangs and gave chase. The
chicken squawked in fright and ran around the misty ground between the two xanmeer with the wolf hot on his trail. The shadow
wolves transformed and followed Twilight in chasing the chicken.
After an hour of tirelessly chasing their prey, the wolves finally orced the chicken into a spot by the brown stone corner of the
northern xanmeer. The yellow-eyed wolves closed in for the kill. Ticked off, Twilight growled at the wolves, nipping at the hind leg of
one of them.
The wolf turned back and growled at Twilight. Twilight responded with a menacing growl and dug his front paws into the offending
wolf's jet black fur. The black wolf moved under Twilight and flicked his muzzle upwards, causing the black and white wolf to flip
through the air. He came down hard on the shadow wolf with all four claws unsheathed. When he landed on the shadow wolf, the
wolf yelped in pain as the claws pierced his skin.
The two wolves began rolling on the ground clawing and biting at each other. Sheogorath sighed and snapped his fingers,
disappearing and appearing in the mist behind the wolves and he reached out and grabbed the scuffs of their necks and held them a
foot apart. He looked scathingly from one wolf to the other.
"What in Oblivion do you think you're doing, you nitwits? You are supposed to be hunting the damn chicken, not each other, sort
yourselves out, or I will."
He slowly lowered each wolf down on the dirt and looked down at his suit and frowned. He snapped his fingers and the saliva that
the snarling wolves left on his jacket was purged instantly.
His hand flew to his mouth, cursing under his breath,
"Oh my, I forgot to mention that anyone affected by the wabbajack will regain their true form in an hour and thirty minutes." When
he said this, he snapped his fingers and a giant clock appeared out of the air.
Sheogorath read the clock, "The spell is losing strength, better rejuvenate it." He said as he pulled out the staff. "What in Oblivion?"
He exclaimed, as the staff's red hot surface burned him and dropped onto the dirt floor. His eye darted from his hand, which now
bore an angry red burn mark to the line that mysteriously appeared lengthwise on the staff.
The once proud Wabbajack had a red fault line running the entire length of the staff, spitting red sparks. Sheogorath used every bit
of daedra magic he knew. He even used some spells from his homelands of mania and dementia; nothing worked. The staff gave out
one last red spark and became just another useless piece of wood, devoid of its once powerful magics.
Sheogorath sighed mournfully and through the useless staff onto the bottom step of the xanmeer,
"You performed well my metamorphing friend, turns out that a daedra was enough to render you useless." He said, frowning
He silently cursed to himself as the chicken grew in size until it was nine feet tall. The feathers disappeared from the rotten arms
and body. The chicken's head turned into a skeletal face with a maw full of pointy teeth, glowing blue eyes, two horizontal horns
protruding out of his skull, a ridge of horns along his bald scalp along with two large spikes extending vertically from his scalp. The
last thing to disappear was the beak, turning into a more reptile-like nose.
His eyes narrowed as he gazed in hatred at Sheogorath,
"Sheogorath...my brother...why did you...sic your 'dog' on me?" He stammered, disbelievingly.
Sheogorath just shrugged and said that their relationship has long since soured. Molag Bal lashed out at Sheogorath, reaching his
hand out for him, but the lord of madness quickly sidestepped and the lord of domination grabbed Arnbjorn instead.
Molag Bal told Sheogorath if he didn't call of his 'dog' right now that he would kill his own servant. Sheogorath sneered and said
that Bal must be bluffing. Molag Bal smiled evily and started squeezing Arnbjorn; increasing the pressure with each passing second.
Sheogorath threw up his hands in surrender,
"Ok, Molag, you win, now please, release the mortal." He begged the malicous daedra lord
The daedra lord looked contemptuously at Sheogorath and begrudingly accepted that he would not kill him but will instead let the
wolves rip him apart as punishment of his treachery. Molag Bal told Sheogorath that Arnbjorn did kill Hasir, but instead let him kill
Adrian, his most loyal servant. He the nord dropped on the ground between five hungry wolves. They stayed where they were, not
wanting to devour the pitiful, bloodied nord.
Molag Bal groaned; eyeing his wolves with pure malice,
"Do as I say or I will murder every one you love, friends, family. Their souls will all will be mine UNLESS YOU DO AS I SAY!"" He
yelled at his wolf servants.
Sheogorath silently tutted while waggling his finger at the daedra prince,
"Threatening your servants now, are we? It seems to me they just grew a brain." He said, mockingly
Molag Bal stared into Sheogorath's slitted eyes and spat a warning,
"You stay out of this, cheesehead, or I will make you one of my many soul shriven."
He strode over to the mad god and reminded him as to whose realm he was in and how he can personally see to it that Coldharbour
will be the mad god's personal hell if he mocked him again. Sheogorath promptly shut up.
He turned back to his wolves and ordered them to kill the traitor but again they refused, His eyes burning with the fire, well, more
accurately ice, of Coldharbour and charged up a spell unknown to any but him, aimed it at the traitor, or who he thought it was and
fired. When the spell hit Arnbjorn, his blood froze solid, causing his veins and arteries to expand causing blood to pour from every
orrifice of his body causing his heart to quickly literally explod from the strain. The Daedra had no idea that Arnbjorn was not the
traitor, but it was another wolf entirely.
Twilight ran up to the stone wall of the xanmeer, kicked off hard with his hind legs and launched himself toward the daedric lord with
impressive speed. Twilight was upon the lord of domination in seconds. As before, he bit and scratched every inch of flesh he could
find, but, he found the daedric lord's skin was hard as stone. Molag Bal stared into Twilight's eyes as he worked relentlessly to rip
apart the daedric lord.
Molag Bal grinned at the black and white wolf,
"Hasir...long time no see, how are your parents? Oops, I forgot, they died." The wolf just looked up at him snarling
Molag Bal walked over to a xanmeer and sat down on the steps, nearly crushing them due to his sheer size. He picked the small wolf
off of his chest with a gray, clawed finger and placed him beside the steps. Molag Bal bent low and whispered in Twilight's ear that
he was actually born not in Stomrhold but on Haj Uxith. He also said that those fools that he calls his father, aunt and uncle were
just decoys to hide his true birthplace from him. Twilight shook his head as if he was having trouble believing this whole thing as be
true.
Molag Bal shrugged his massive shoulders and sneered evilly,
"Believe it for it is true. You were born here, those people you call your 'family and friends' are in fact there to hide the truth from
you." The wolf cocked his head while his ears went up as if he was considering this entire conversation. "Listen, Hasir you have no
friends, they took your home and tried to destroy it while I brought the city here to Coldharbour to try and save it.
Sheogorath shook his head slowly,
"Hasir, dismiss them, perish the thought." He waved his hand dismissively. "No, this is who you are." He said, with mocking love
Bal cradled hiis head in his hands and turned to the wolf, whose tail stood at attention while he growled at the daedric lord,
"Listen to me, you dumb animal, this is your true family," He gestured to the shadow wolves, "Those so-called friends aren't your
true friends, the shadow wolves and I are your true family." He sighed heavily, "I did not want to tell you this but you were the first
wolf I created, you know Bloodfang, he is my creation. I created the shadow wolves from his blood."
Twilight thought on this for a good while while Sheogorath yelled from near the boundary of the village that Molag Bal was lying to
him,
"Don't listen to him, you idiot. He is just trying to corrupt you into furthering his plans of world domination. He will tell falsehoods in
order to get what he wants. That's how he works and why he is called the master of corruption.
Molag Bal's voice cut like an icy chill that emanated from the gloomy sky itself. Twilight picked up on the deception and his growl
increased in intensity causing Molag Bal to bark back that if he didn't be a good doggy and heal that he will have to be put on a
leash.
When Twilight succumbed to the dominant daedra's orders, Molag Bal relaxed, patting the wolf's head. Twilight had to put all his
strength in his strong legs to prevent himself from going with the steps as they bowed and shuttered with the immense force
the giant hand was exerting on them.
Just then two translucent argonians ascended the xanmeer, one of whom passed right through the unwary wolf. They went about
their life unaware of where they were or that their souls have been sucked out leaving them as bare husks. Twiilight felt a cold chill
as the male argonian walked through him, being as ghost, or, soul shriven as it were, he did not pay much stock to solid objects as
soul shriven look like ghosts to beings of Tamriel.
As the female 'ghost' passed him, his ears flicked, his tail wagged and he yapped excitedly, running cirlces around the female ghost.
Twilight's tail went limp and he whined as the female argonian did not acknowledge him. He cocked his head in Molag Bal's direction
as if he were saying, 'please, don't tell me that they were who I thought they are.'
The daedric lord nodded his horned head mournfully at the wolf,
"Yes, that male over there," He gestured toward the male, "is Iskenaaz and, that woman with him is named Xohaneel, she was a
treeminder which is a person who tends to those stupid trees over there." Twilight eyes followed Molag Bal's finger as it pointed to
a giant hist tree in the distance.
But that's impossible, I saw Iskenaaz not even two months ago, Twilight thought, bewildered. Molag Bal must be lying to me.
Twilight ran up the xanmeer after the two ghostly argonians, barking wildly at them, hoping they would break out of their trance.
Just as he reached the top, they banished.
Twilight rounded on the daedric lord who roared with laughter,
"Did you seriously believe that a stupid wolf like you can defy my whim?" He asked, menacingly
The wolf's hackles and tail raised as he growled at the daedric prince of domination, pulling his lips back to reveal fangs with saliva
dripping from them. He charged towards the great deciever.
Yawning, as if this act of defiance bored him, Molag Bal waved a hand in the air making the sky rain down icy spears from the chilly
air. The spears rained down on the xanmeer, pelting the surface like rain would in the mortal realm. The spears of ice smashed into
the xanmeer forcing Twilight to dodge the deadly ice spikes and he carefully maneuvered his way to the daedric prince. Twilight
yelped in pain as an unseen ice spear impaled him through the same leg that the silver dagger had.
The injured wolf toppled like a rag doll of the edge of the xanmeer and land with a THUD on the ground beneath. Molag Bal laughed
miniacally at the fallen wolf. What he failed to realize however that there were four pissed off wolves behind him. Sensing this, Molag
Bal turned in surprise. It would have been five had Arnbjorn not perished from the wounds the daedric lord had inflicted upon him
mere moments ago. Four wolves stayed as they were. One of the wolves transformed, nocked an ebony bow onto his ebony bow,
aimed a little bit about the daedric prince's head fired with the expert marksmanship of an experienced archer.
The arrow flew through the air and pierced Molag Bal's eye, blinding him. The daedric prince roared in pain as he grabbed the arrow
and yanked it free. He staggered to his feet and moved toward the wolves, blood spurted from the arrow wound. He stopped when
he was an inch from them. He waved his hand and disappeared from sight. Before he did though, he uttered words that hung in the
cold air like icicles. "Hasir, you are forever branded a traitor to the shadow wolves. My servants, wherever they may be, will hunt
you like the dog you are!"
Inigo sighed in relief,
"Wow, at least that is over, my fleas were shaking in their little flea boots." He laughed at his own joke
Sheogorath cast a scornful eye at the khajiit,
"Ermm, Ingio is it?" The khajiit nodded, "I would take this situation more seriously if I were you. He gestured to the sprawled out
form of Twilight on the ground. "We have to help him, poor mortal, he did not ask for any of this to happen."
Sheogorath straightened up and snapped his fingers. Two chests, one with spikes adorning it along with cruel faces between the
spikes and the other, a chest with a smooth amber tint to it, appeared at the top of the ancient pyramid. Inigo and the four shadow
wolves walked up the stair to the top. once at the top, the three wolves transformed. Where once stood shadowy wolves, were now
three nords, two with identical black beards and facepaint and one with grey hair, a matching beard and strange, owlish gray eyes.
Vilkas motioned to his brother Farkas to open the chest, he did so and inside were multiple bronze weapons accented with gray
indentations and some weapons had gray axeheads, hammerhead or blades that looked like they were carved from solid rock.
Kodlak opened the second chest and found grey weaponry with orange accent, he lifted out one of the weapons, an amber
greatsword, weighed it in his hands and frowned,
"Farkas, Vilkas, what do you think?" He said as he 'placed' the weapon on his back
The two brothers looked at each other and shook their heads,
"Why don't we just stick with our skyforge steel weapons." He shrugged, "I mean these wapons are nice but if it isn't broke why fix
it?"
Kodlak nodded, placed the weapon back into its box and retreated down the steps. Farkas followed suit, Vilkas, on the other hand,
removed two madness waraxes from the first chest and some strange lunar khajiiti armor from the second chest and joined his
brother and the harbinger, who stopped and looked at him
Kodlak saw the weapons, and raised a thick, bushy eyebrow,
"Vilkas, why do we need these? We have the skyforge to make weapons for us."
Vilkas shook his head and handed each of them a weapon to carry,
"These are not for us, it is for Hasir, his weapons may be damaged and as such might need replacements."
Kodlak looked at the armor slung across the nord's burly shoulders and laughed,
"Is this for him as well?" He asked Vilkas, in surprised amusement
Vilkas nodded, handing the armor to Kodlak to inspect,
"no, are you mad? An argonian would look ugly in a khajiiti armor but I will give it to him."
Kodlak threw up his hands in frustration,
"By the nines Vilkas, Hasir does not need armor right this moment, he won't need it!"
Sheogorath intervened on the three nords' agrument,
"Pardon the interruption, but, er, shouldn't we be helping wolfie?" He asked as he gestured towards the unconscious wolf
The nords nodded and walked down the xanmmeer to the unconscious wolf and inspected the wound. Farkas turned, his face ashen,
to Vilkas. Farkas roared with laughter, "You call yourself a warroir? Yet you can't handle a wound, get over yourself." He said as he
shoved his brother slightly. The realm started to distort until it was just black space once more, Twilight was more reptilian than
wolf. They were back insde Hasir's mind.
Sheogorath conjured a floral print couch and laid upon ii wondering if Rakel and Inigo found the ingredients for the cure yet. The
argonian's mental representation creased his forehead and asked the daedric god what he meant by that. The cheese god just
shrugged his shoulders,
"I just thought that...never mind, it's not important."
Outside the estate sat three wooden benches around a lit fire. On the second bench sat Ceralyne, head in her hands. tear streaks
marred her beautiful golden face. She had really taken this whole ordeal hard, though not as hard as Rakel. She knew they had to
find the bandits who killed Quinchal. She stared at the fire in awed silence, eyes wide as a scene formed in the flames. She could
see Hasir laying on the table as he had done currently, everyone was gathered around the table praying to the divines or daedra that
he will wake up. The door to the house flies open and in walked a figure cloaked in black robes.
He is a fellow shadowscale who got paid by Hasir's brother, Tulen to have him killed because he had forsaken Molag Bal and accepted
a new master. The cloaked figure approached the table, unsheathing a silver sword under his robe, raising it so the deadly tip was
just above Hasir's heart. He stabbed downward, puncturing the heart and thus impeding the steady bloodflow, shut it off like one
would a faucet. Hasir's eye snapped open and he let out a single earsplitting scream.
Ceralyne covered her ears and another tear rolled down her cheek. She had to force herself to watch the horrible events unfold. The
figure looked at Hasir's dead body and removed his hood, pulling back the shadowy veil on his face. Veezara, fellow shadowscale and
assassin for the dark brotherhood looked pleased with himself.
He befouled the deceased Argonian's corpse with his own saliva and he lips parted in a snarl,
"Well, that's one less wolf in the Tamriel, I must inform Tulen of my success right away."
The scenes changed to Veezara approaching a fort she had not seen before. The scene distored as orange and yellow flames
engulfed the scene. within seconds it was an ordinary firepit once again. Ceralyne's hand flew to her mouth as she gasped. She
got up, her heart beating out of her chest and ran inside the house. She sighed with relief as she saw no assassin, no silver blade
poised in the air and more importantly, no dead argonian.
She sat down on one of the vacant chairs that surrounded the table and let her head fall onto the hard surface. Soon after, she was
fast asleep.
