The portal that Quinchal thought would lead he back to Tamriel dumped him instead in front of a large daedric building that looked
far more intimidating that the peaceful pagodas he knew back home. This building was carved out of cold blue-grey rock and had
numerous sharp spires that shot skyward to make the structure look even more menacing. Quinchal walked up to the brown stone
door and scrutinized it, underneath, he found a panel that slid aside for a keyhole.
Upon the door was an inscription that read: All ye looking to enter this place must first weaken thyself. Qunchal thought about this
riddle for a minute. How am I to weaken myself? He thought. Not seconds later did he have a plan in mind, thinking quickly, he
ripped flesh from his fore arm and pressed his arm to the keyhole. The door accepted a drop of blood and the panel slotted back into
place. The door swung open before Quinchal could even open it. The tsaesci stepped inside. He cast his healing spell and the wound
on the tsaesci's arm healed.
Inside, the place was even more depressing than the outside. Stone steps lead into a long, twisted hallway that felt it went on
forever. Quinchal reassured himself that his ancestors would be watching and would intervene if there was any trouble. As he
made his way through the hallway, he could see a light at the end. Quinchal sprinted towards the light, ignoring any obstacle
in his way, only to be let down. It was not a light, but a dark shadowy light that, when the lizard approached, split and formed
three forms. The three forms that the shadow transformed into were that of argonians: one adult and two children. The forms
were coming toward Quinchal; their red eyes cutting deep as a knife cuts apples.
Quinchal unsheathed his Nodachi and said something in Akavirian and the sword erupted in flame. He leapt at Tulen, Neesh
and Milsha and they responded in kind.
"Come at me, you bastards," Quinchal said through gritted teeth.
Quinchal and the argonians' swords met. Quinchal bashed out with his nodachi and sent the argonians sprawling. The
argonians got back to their feet, or at least the bits of Bloodfang that inhabited them did. They ran at Quinchal once more.
The tsaesci transformed into his wolf form. Langshen. The tsaesci's wolf form pinballed between the three argonian forms that
surrounded him in a triangle. The wolf ripped one argonian form apart before doing the same to the other argonian forms.
Langshen transformed back into his golden-snake form. three wisps of black smoke eminated from the bodies. The wisps of
shadow flew right, spiraling down the next hall to an area Quinchal could not see.
"Damn, why is Bloodfang always one step ahead?" He thought about this for a minute and then shook his head to clear his mind.
"I have to save my friend, no time to waste. Quinchal continued down a hallway to the left of the chamber.
He followed the hallway's twisted and turns. Soon after exiting this hallway, he was met with a duplicate of Drujeeta. The lizard
ran at him, he brought his right leg around in a half circle behind him and, when she was a few inches from the tsaesci, he
swept his right foot behind the lizard's left ankle.
She came crashing down with a thud onto the hard stone floor. The tsaesci finshed his sweep kick and ran at Drujeeta all while
unsheathing his sword. He brought the sword downward like a dead bird falling to earth and with a sickening crack. The sword
skewered the lizard's skull. The shadow clone's body writhed once and lay deathly still. A moment later, the body dissolved into
shadow. The shadow flew down the hallway to an unknown area, as the previous part of Bloodfang did before.
Quinchal ran down the hallway, trying to beat the shadowy wisps. After a while, he entered a big open room with pillars
supporting the ceiling. A bluish-purple khajiit and a dark green-scaled argonian were standing right in the middle of the room. The
tsaesci could see that an argonian figure was in the middle, confined to two structures that jutted out of the stone floor. He turned
his back to his comrade and saw the khajiit and the argonian run at him.
"Come at me, you son of a bitch," Quinchal snarled behind his unsheathed blade.
The three creatures collided in a flurry of slashes and stabs. Quinchal dodged the Inigo doppleganger's sweeping sword and
ran to the adjacent wall and ran up the surface as if the wall was a floor. He effortlessly kicked off of the top of the wall and
performed a backflip like a circus acrobat. He landed behind the lizard and the Khajiit and, who were unaware of his shift in position.
Quinchal sheathed his Nodachi and took two curved daggers a golden hilt that ended in a pair of dragon eads out of the sheath that
was fixed to the imperial cuirass he wore.
With one swift movement, the tsaesci simulaneously plunged one dagger into the gut of the cat and the other one into that of
the argonian. He removed the daggers and the forms started to fade. The final two bits of bloodfang emerged and were joined in
the center with the other fragments. After a minute of reconstruction, a black wolf with red eyes was staring back at him.
"Do not think this is over, I am every doubt you and your ancestors ever thought, I am the darkness behind your eyes, your
worst nightmares come true. I will be waiting..." As he said this last word he disappered into thin air.
Quinchal turned his attention from the spot where Bloodfang was and focused on the shackles where Hasir was confined to
which sat a few inches from the center. Hasir's head lay limp as a doll's.
"Molag Bal's minions must've beat him and then brought him here", Quinchal thought.
The golden serpent sat cross-legged on the floor by the lizard's confines. Hasir began to stir. Quinchal looked up, surprised. He
had so many questions for Hasir, he asked them without pause.
"Hasir, are you hurt? Why is Molag Bal mad at you? Where did you vanish to when we were in the cell in Riften? Why....?"
"I...will....answer...your....questions, just get me free will you? I can't feel my arms." Hasir said, in tears.
Quinchal nodded, unsheathed his sword and slashed at both of the ethereal bonds. The sword just went through the shackles.
Seeing no other alternative, he became wolf and his wolf sniffed around and smelled some energy signature coming from both
ends of the ethereal shackles.
Langshen swiped at the huge spiked structures and they both exploded. The lizard slumped on the stone floor and vigorously rubbed
his arms and hands, flexing and unflexing his muscles, fearing that they had atrophied. He got up and dusted himself off and was
about to tell the tale of how he got imprisoned here to Quinchal when his eye caught something, or someone, moving out of the
corner of his eye.
The shadowy figured stood up and walked over to Hasir.
"Greetings egg-kin, I am Itansehk, the leader of the Black Tongue tribe in Murkmire," He paused and then added "I, Kassamae,
your mother, Tulen, your brother and Tsaesh, a shadowscale and your mate escaped just before the great flame enveloped our
land."
After minutes of akward silence, Hasir spoke, his voice was like rough sandpaper after being held prisoner for so long.
"Ishtansehk, I am sure you are mistaken, I cannot be the lizard that you seek." He pointed a claw finger at Quinchal, "He has
far more shadowscale blood in his enter body than I do in one fingernail."
At this, Istansehk laughed.
"Oh, come now Hasir, you are the mistaken one, not me, you were born in Murkmire, do you not remember? Have you no
memory of your past?" He slowly shook his head as he said these words.
Hasir advanced angrily upon him, "One more thing, who are you to say who I mate with, hmm? I am sorry to disappoint you
'father' I have already chosen my mate, the only remaining question is does she know I like her? Hell, does she even like me?"
The Argonian with the dark green scales laughed with shaking his head slowly. "My dear boy, what has deluded you to the truth that
is staring you right in the eye? I, Kassamae and Neesh are your real family. The bonding ceremony with Tsaesh is fated to happened,
she is already your wife-to-be, not some ojel that you just met and she probably feels nothing for you." As he said this, his face got
steadily redder. He could not believe that he son would be so thick as to deny him.
Now it was Hasir's turn to be angry, "God dammit, who the hell do you think you are you son of a bitch. I already have
parents and I do not need you or any brothers and sisters." He literally poked his 'father' in the chest with one clawed finger.
A thin stream of blood trickled down Istansehk's front, staining his war-sash. "Also, you 'arrranged' a marriage for me? You don't
give a fuck about my feelings, do you?" Hasir screamed in rage, and then he punched the stone wall in frustration. No matter how
hard the punch had been, the wall did not give in.
Hasir felt a sharp, throbbing pain in his hand. Hasir held his throbbing hand close to his chest to try to either make the pain go
away or, at the very least, to make the pain lessen somewhat. He held the hand close to his chest and made sure to keep it
elevated above his heart so as to try to get blood flowing again. Hasir flexed the wrist and the fingers of his right hand, hopefully, it
was not broken.
He was amazed when he didn't feel intense pain in what movements he did execute, so, no bones were broken in his hand or
wrist. Hasir sighed with relief. He looked at the huge dent he put in the wall and hissed in agitation at his own thick-headedness,
"Hasir, why do you have to be so stupid? Why can't you keep you temper under control?"
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