Hasir's eyelids fluttered open as a long spear poked him in the side,
"Oi, lizard, get up. Get up now damnit!" The voice sounded harsh as Hasir had trouble focusing his eyes
Had he been poisoned? stung by silver? why were his eyes fogging? It took several minutes for his eyes to adjust as sleep drained
from them like blood would after some gory battle. He slowly stood up, careful not to hit his head on the low-bearing ceiling of the
iron cage. On his way to his feet.
Hasir saw the bonemold armor of a dark skinned dunmer leering at him through the bars of his cage,
"Hello, filthy pond scum, remember me?" He asked laughing throatily
Hasir nodded reluctantly as if he did and tried to scab over the memory as it had caused him some pain. His eyes flitted to his right
and left, seeing three beastial figures that have also gotten to their feet. He failed to notice the two burly dumner who had dragged
him away from his golden-scaled friend hours before. He snarled at them, showing rows of pointy teeth and snapped at the air. The
three dunmer backed up a few steps but never lost their malicious smiles on their faces.
One of the dumner laughed as he pointed to the Argonian,
"Hey boss, looks like we have a rabid dog that needs to be put down." He then walked to Hasir's cage and stuck his ugly head in
forcing Hasir back against the wall, "Do you want a bone doggy? Sorry to disappoint ya but I ain't got one. Now, be a good
doggy; sit and shut the fuck up!" He roared with laughter as he went back to his cohorts.
Hasir retaliated once more by snarling at them; no sooner did he react when a silver whip cracked against his back, he let out a
scream which mingled with the dead silence of the building,
"What in Hircine's name did you do that for?" He hissed, rubbing the spot where the whip had hit him
The dunmer shrugged and said he did that to remind the Argonian that he is not one to fuck with. He raised the whip again, but
Hasir raised his hands in front of his face as a peace offering and said he meant the dunmer no harm. The dunmer smiled at the
subservience and lowered his whip. He glanced left and right to see that the other slaves had received similar wounds from the
weapons clutched in the hands of the other dunmer. Nereth's lackey had backed away from the cages with sneers as cold and
merciless as his. In one fluid motion, Hasir heard his and the other slave's cages creak open and four gnarled grey hands grabbed
him and his fellow slaves forcibly by the wrists and yanked them so they swayed ominously before their cages. Hasir looked over to
see that Khash, Drujeeta and Juleen's heads bowed low, forced upwards by their captor's claw-like hands. Hasir cringed as he saw
their jugulars standing out painfully on their strained necks. Khash was lifted off her feet by her captor and slammed to the ground
once more, causing Hasir to avert his eyes.
By Hircine, if only I can transform at will, then those blasted dunmer will regret ever being born. He thought to himself.His mouth
curved in a smile, I bet their blood taste delicious, I can already smell the fear they exude. He sniggered to himself. Nerethi strode
over to him,
"What, may I ask, is so funny you ungrateful worm?" he asked, raising his chin and crossing his arms
Hasir wiped a tear of mirth from his eye,
"Nothing, I was just thinking of how your blood would look splattered all over the wall." He said, still smirking
The dunmer flew into a rage and whippped the Argonian thrice in quick succession,
"How dare you! Who do you think you are talking to me in such a manner?" He asked, outraged
Hasir grunted in pain as he got to his feet and poked the dumner in the chest with a black claw,
"I am a werewolf, you moron, and you do not want to cross me lest your head land fifty feet away." He said, smiling wryly
Nerethi smirked in disbelief and shook his head,
"Sorry to break it to ya kid, but werewolves aren't real." He sneered as he pointed to his head, "Lycanthropy's merely the
invention of the mind. You should seek help from a healer if you really think you are one." He said laughing in Hasir's face.
As he said this, Hasir got steadily redder in the face until he could not take it any more. He bellowed and ran, head down, at the
dunmer half hoping to puncture him with one of his bone spikes. Barring that, he would just give the dunmer a light dusting with his
hair. He ran full speed but the dunmer stepped aside with ease. Hasir rocketed past him and slammed in the wall beside the door.
Nerethil looked ant Hasir coldly and shook his head,
"Too bad lizard, you are wasted on a loose leash, perhaps someone needs to fix that."
He pulled a length of rope from his pocket and tied the rope around Hasir's wrists. He walked over yanking Hasir along behind him
and told the other prisoners to follow him as it was time to go to their new home. He also told them if they resisted than they would
end up like the poor reptile that stood behind him, ropes slowly cutting off his circulation.
No one argued or hung back and followed the dunmer and the other two burly men out to the docks. Nerethi made everyone else go
first. They did as he asked. Hasir was a foot up the wooden plank when the dunmer gave a sharp tug at his bonds sending Hasir
tumbling head over heels backward, skinning himself on the way down, to land hard on the split tree trunk,
"Everyone...except you." He snarled at the Argonian and hit Hasir on the nose when he went to bite him, "I want to keep you within
eyesight, got me?" Hasir nodded gloomily. "Good, now get up there." The dunmer said, sneering at him. He kicked Hasir in the
backside causing the Arrgonian to loose his footing and bounce down the ramps.
Hasir got up, massaged his bottom while hissing obscenities under his breath as he joined the others below deck. Nerethi and the
other dunmer boarded the ship. Nerethi barked orders to his fellow dunmer, one he sent to the helm to steer the ship and the other
he sent below to check on the slaves and, if necessary, deal out puishment. Nerethi smiled broadly as he thought of the screams of
pain that would surely eminate from the cargo hold.
The muscular dunmer named Dranos Hlaalu, proceeded down the steps visible from the trap door he had just opened. In the cargo
hold of the ship he caught the slaves all huddled in one corner talking amongst themselves. Dranos strode over to them, grabbed
each slave by the scruff of his or her ragged shirt and thrust them into a black barred cage, making absolutely sure that only one
slave occupied a cage. He did it that way as a attempt to lower morale and break their spirits.
The three Argonians hit the wall with enough force to shatter their noses. They slid down the wall as if it were slick with slippery
liquid and landed on straw the color of the dirty blond hair on Dranos' head. They lay there trying to stauch the blood flowing from
their noses that he had just broken.
He smiled evilly as he turned to Hasir, he brandished a silver whip in his hand,
"Oi, filthy lizard get in there or I will run this across your scaly hide once more."
Not need to be told twice, Hasir ran into his cage he occupied before the ship docked in Sadrith Mora and slammed the door shut
when he was inside. Hasir could he the water's movements become more fluid and pronounced as he heard the ship begin its
journey toward, well it was Hircine's guess where they were going.
Hasir yawned loudly as he lay down to sleep. No sooner had he done this had he felt a sharp pain on his tail, he gave yelp and awoke
with at start. He saw Dranos' ugly face staring at him,
"Oh I'm sorry, Did I say go to bed? No I did not!" He thundered in Hasir's ear. He glanced around to his companions and noticed they
all had nodded off, so why in Oblivion does this dunmer want to keep an eye on him so bad?
The dunmer must've heard this because he raised a finger and opened his mouth,
"The reason, my reptilian slave, I want to, well my brother, wants to keep a closer eye on you is because our master Molag Bal
demands it." His mouth curved into a malicious smile.
Hasir glared angrily at the dunmer,
"I'm sorry I must've misheard you, did you say Molag Bal?" He asked, eyebrows raised
Nerethi nodded and told the Argonian not to ask any more questions lest he wants to feel his silvery whip again. The whip was just a
rope with five silver spearheads strapped to it. The Argonian raised his hands up showing the captor his palms,
"Hey, no need to lash out for no reason." He lowered his arms and shrugged, "Can't we just talk about this?" He offered, smiling
wearily hoping this was enough to make him see reason.
Nerethi shook his head implying that he had no intention to talk about this with damned lizard filth. He approached Hasir and poked
the silver spears through one each of the openings in the cage door. Hasir scuttled away from the silver spearheads and pressed
himself against the blackbarred wall that served as the cage's back wall. He slid down and lay spread-eagled on the pile of straw. He
felt a trickle of blood run down his scaly cheek. Did the silver spears puncture through his cheek? Hasir raised a hand to his cheek
and felt the scaly flesh; trying to find where, or if, he had sustained any puncture wounds.
His eyes went wide as he felt a hole stretching from his cheek to the top of his neck. He knew his accelerated healing had slowed
down due to the introduction of silver particles in his blood. He found himself, once again, weakening severly due to the invading
substance. He lay on the strawpile feeling too weak to stand; he was too weak to keep his eyes open. His sense of smell, however,
remained intact and he could smell the scent of wolfsbane wafting into his cage from the trapdoor. The smell, Hasir noticed,
was coming from the top deck just in front of the trapdoor. Hasir's mind reeled from the malodorus scent from the purple
flower. Wasn't wolfsbane only found in the hunting grounds and in the nibenay bay? Hasir's feverish mind thought, What in
Hircine's name is it doing here?
The air became thick with the metallic scent of blood mixed with the acrid scent of aconite that Hasir's already fogged brain shut
down almost instantaneously, he drifted into ununconsciousness like a fish into water. In his unconconscious state, he failed to
hear a cage door open a few feet in front of him. Nerethi was fast asleep in the corner of the room and could not hear her cage
swing open on it's hinges. The small Argonian stuck to the shadow as she moved closer to Hasir's cage. She produced a lockpick
from her the flod in her shirt and set to work picking the lock to Hasir's cage.
The Argonian moved in and silently closed the door behind her, not wanting to wake up the dunmer. She approached the Argonian's
limp body and saw the puncture wounds on his face and neck where the whip had struck him. Before doing anything, Khash lent
down and check if his heart was still beating; to her relief it was. She hissed joyfully and grabbed her charcoal concoction mixed
with bits of wolfsbane liquid squeezed methodically from the plant, dipped her claws into the mixture and carefully dabbed some on
the wounds. To her surprise, the wounds sealed up immediately; Hasir remained stiff as a floorboard. Khash thought on this a while
ans opened Hasir's mouth and stuffed some charcoal down his throat.
A few minutes later, Hasir's eyes flew open and he coughed profusely,
"Hircine damnit, Khash, what did you stuff down my throat?" He licked his lips, "Tastes like charcoal with," He tried to recall the
secondary flavor, "A hint of wolfsbane." He stared at the young Argonian who had started backing away from Hasir's red-hot stare.
She cowered in the corner of his cell and closed her eyes while pointing at Hasir's neck, "Hasir, please don't kill me!" She squeaked,
"look at your wound where the silver penetrated your skin, for Malacath's sake, have some sense of humanity and look!" She
shrieked just as Hasir was a few inches away from her, ready to wring her scaly neck.
Much to Khash's amazement, he stopped, lowered his outstretched hands and felt the wound and found the two puncture wounds
that had flowed with blood minutes before had healed miraculousy. Hasir looked at Khash utterly shocked, his tail curled and
uncurled behind him,
"Khash, how did you heal the puncture wounds?" He asked, brow furrowed, "Did you use a healing spell?" He asked, putting a hand
on her shoulder. Khash promptly shook her head and showed Hasir the powdered mixture with the crushed bits of the wolfsbane
plant.
Hasir cocked his head to the side and scratched his head, wearing a bewildered expression,
"I thought wolfsbane was poisonous to lycanthropes?" He asked
Khash shook her head rapidly,
"No it is not, er, actually it is but only when injested or when a great quantity gets on the skin... or scales, as is your case." Her face
hardened, "When applied-in smallalmost negligible amounts-to a wound such as yours, then no it is not poisonous," She wracked her
brain for a better explanation, "When this is mixed with an ingredient, doesn't matter what it is, than the perccent of poison present
in wolfsbane drops significantly."
She paused to let Hasir take this in; then she pressed on with her explanation. Hasir put up a hand to stop her as she was in the
midst of explaining how applied wolfsbane and ingested wolfsbane properties differ. He asked her how the diluted bits of wolfsbane
seal wounds up and he also asked her if a healing spell would do the trick much faster?
Khash sighed and shook her head,
"No, a healing spell does wonders for a non-silver related injury, heals it right up. Wolfsbane is best reserved only for wounds caused
by silver, mind. If you use wolfsbane on a non silver related injury, then the wound is bound to get worse; the same as a healing
spell with a silver related injury."
Hasir began to ask her how she knew all this when something in his mind connected wolfsbane, silver and his lycanthropy,
"Wait a minute," He said, rounding on her and waggling a finger in her direction, "Who in Oblivion told you of my condition?" He
moved towards her, eyes flaring.
Khash crouched down in the rear of the cage, trying to maintain as much distance between herself and the livid Argonian. Her entire
body shook like a leaf on a hist tree,
"I did not know, honestly I didn't," She tried to think of something else to say, which was increasingly difficult when someone was
pressuring her which was what Hasir was indeed doing, "Marlock told me of werewolves and how to heal them, but I did not know
you were one." She looked intently at Hasir from between her arms which were stacked in front of her face to act as a shield, "You
aren't one, are you?"
Hasir lent down, let her up and shrugged,
"Well, the Wamasu is out of the bag now, so you might as well know." Hasir gulped loudly, uttered a prayer to Kynareth and
Hircine and began his 'tail of turning' as it were,
"Yes, what you heard is true." He said taking a deep breath and letting it out in small incriments, Hircine knows how you heard it,
but, yes, I am a werewolf."
Khash proceeded to cower amongst some straw behind him. Hasir waggled his finger at her and shook his head, "Don't worry, Khash
you have nothing to fear from me as I try not to let my wolf out, and, when I do, it will not hurt you, promise." He crossed his heart
and told her she has his sworn oath as a wolf. He sighed and turned away from her, "You see, while other few their lycanthropy or
'werewolfism' as either a blessing or a curse, I see mine as both a blessing and a curse, er, if that makes any sense." Hasir finished,
lamely
Khash cocked her head, scratching it profusely,
"Why do you say that? If I had lycanthropy, I would cherish it, not shove it away like a discarded toy or memory."
Hasir said he would expound on this later. He told the small Argonian that right now he would like to sleep as he could barely keep
his eyes open. He glanced over at Khash and instructed that she do the same. The gentle sloshing of water lulled them to sleep as
they neared Dren Plantation.
