Hasir opened the door and found himself in what looked like a storeroom with tree branches painted on the wall. The argonian moved towards this curious sight and looked closer. From the branches sprouted many flowering blooms. Hasir scrutinized this and, soon found, as he gravitated toward the main area, the continuation of the strange painted branches. Hasir gasped as, lining the walls, were large wooden barrels containing an unknown substance.
He sas that, near the barrels, an ornate fireplace stood as well as several bookshelves with books that Hasir had not seen before. He saw that the house extended into a small room near the fireplace as well as a wodden staircase that, Hasir presumed, led up to the upper floor of the house. He ascended the stairway and emerged onto the second floor landing.
He saw a table and two ornate chairs but no sign of life.
"Hello?" He called, "Anyone there? I'm sorry for intruding but I was curious. Khamara, just what is it you expect me to do? Khamara, is anyone there?"
He was about to head back downstairs when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a strange blue glow emanating from the room to the far left of his location. He crouched and sllowly moved toward it; his tail swaying stiiffly behind him. For good measure, he unsheathed his axe.
Hasir burst into the room and saw a sight that froze his blood. Khamara knelt before an altar that was dripping blood from an open skull-shaped maw into a stone basin. Hasir eyed the khajiit, who had turned to him and marred her features with two parellel lines of crimson about an inch below her eyes.
The argonian stormed in and grabbed a hold of her wrist; stopping her applying a second row of lines.
"Khamar, why?" He asked her, eyes wide, "Your hsband. Is this anyway to avenge his death - by throw your life away for service to... Molag Bal?" He gestured out the window to a verdant field filled with garden tresses. "Think before you do something you'll regret. Molag Bal is bad news. Trust me, I've seen what he can do first hand. Please, don't go down this dark alley. You may think there is a light at the end, but, odds are, it is a light of an oncoming carriage you can't escape from."
Khamara looked at him and tugged her arm free of his grip. Hasir looked at her and sighed,
"What of my retribution to your farm? I have yet to repay you for the damage I, or rather, my wolf, has done. Let me lead you from this nightmare into a much happier dream. Let me lead you from the icy grip of Coldharbour so you may bask in the glory that is Meridia's light."
Khmara laughed and charged up a tellekinesis spell.
"Nice try Argonian but if it all the same to you, she would like to refuse. I wonder do all lizards land on their feet?"
Hasir had a split second to ponder on what the female khajiit had meant by this because a split second later, or it had seemed like that to Hasir, he heard the sound of breaking glass and found himself lying on his back in the vineyard that sprawled before the house. He got up, conjured his bound bow and fired. The arrow clattered to the floor, just inches from where Khamara stood moments before.
He cursed his bad luck - or was it has bad aim? Whatever it was, he shrugged it off and watched as the bow turned to blue mist. He saw an old, decrepid windmill standing at the far edge of the farm. He approached it and turned to doorknob. The door flung open and Hasir looked down into an infinite black hole populated with blue and purple stars. The stars formed a vortex of sorts and threatened to suck the Argonian into it like a monster that was starving for flesh. Hasir struggled to grab the knob, but just a he attempted it, the knob along with the allegedly weak wooden door flew off and fell deeper into the black void.
The argonian feared the worst as he let go of his fear of falling into nothingness and felt himself fall tthrough multicolored stars. When he awoke minutes later, he found himself in a strange, but somewhat familiar place. He got up and cursed his bad luck as he stared up at the all-too-familar purple and blue sky. His tail slammed down hard and kicked up grey dust.
Khamara, now wearing a black hooded robe with blue symbols, turned. Hasir saw that she wore a grey skull mask similar to those of Molag's Bal inner circle.
"The lizard is awake, good." She said, smiling. "Khamar is sorry to have brought you here but she sensed you held answers for her about the husband you killed in cold blood. Did argonian think Khamara would not notice? She is, as argonian may or may not have guessed, one of Molag Bal's priests."
Hasir's mind snapped back to the traitorous khajiit standing before him.
"So you want to save you dead husband?" He said laughing. "Well, sorry to put a knot in your tail but your husband is not skeever chow. Fit only to nourish to kwama crawling deep in the earth. He can't be resurrected. Why would he want to be? To relive the horror the my wolf did to him? I don't think so. Being dead might be an improvement for him. He glared at Khamara, "If he is anything like you." He said, pointing a clawed finger at her. "I also thought all of Molag Bal's priests bit the dust, so to speak." He said as he glanced down at the grey dust all around him.
The female khajiit snarled at him; eyes flashing dangerously in his direction.
"You dare speak ill of this one's husband? Khamara should teach argonian some manners!"
Hasir deftly dodged the ice-spike Khamara shot at him. He retaliated by sending a white-hot sun of pure fury at her. Hasir looked on, aghast, as she vanished into thin air. He stared at the charred spot where Khamara stood and investigated a nearby cavern fashioned of blue rock. Upon exiting the other side, he found himself staring at a huge castle fashioned out of grey stone with huge black crosses on some of the turrets.
Hasir sighed as he stared at the dead body hanging from the burnt tree in the middle of the 'courtyard.'
"Ok, Molag Bal. Let's see what you have in store for me." He unsheathed he sword and headed through a door to his right.
He looked at the peeling green wall and the black and white-tiled floor, took a deep breath to calm his nerved and headed up the stairs. He saw a table strewn with alchemical mechanisms beset by bookshelves on all sides with all manner of books. He itched with excitement as he eyed the ingredient jars behind the table.
"Hasir, pace yourlself." He reminded himself. "Find Molag Bal first and then you can play in the sandbox."
He walked, tail thrashing wildly behind him, as he walked through a room with an ornate stone fireplace and a table with all manner of maggot-infested and rotten food upon it. The smell made the Argonian speed up as he searcheed for either the traitorous khajiit or the demon prince.
Hasir pushed the wooden door open and stared in horror at the sight before him. His mouth dropped as he saw Ceralyne carressing the khajiit's fur - almost lvingly. Hasir slowly approached them; fists balled in fury.
"Khamara, what in Oblivion do you think you're doing? Get away from her!" He yelled.
The khajiit stopped fondling the elf, turn and stared directly into Hasir's eyes.
"Why Hasir, I didn't expect to see you here. I am just keeping your girlfriend warm until my lord has his time to 'play' with her." She said, grinning toothily. As you may not know, my lord, Molag Bal wants her for... well, what he desires doesn't matter at this moment. What he does want though is to make your life a living hell." She said, smirking at him.
Hasir hissed audibly at her. Khamara shook her head at him.
"Naugthy boy. You need to learn manners."
She called into the darkness for someone Hasir couldn't see.
"Talk care of him will you, friend?" She said with a poisonously soft voice
Hasir could not believe what he was seeing, Inigo working for her? how?
"Now, Inigo, don't do anything you might regret. You know me. I rescued you from that jail cell remember?"
Khamara threw her head back and laughed,
"Silly argonian, he works for me know." She said, circling him as a cat sizing up her prey. "He has more tricks up his sleeve.
Hasir shivered as the blue khajiit sprouted black fur and oblivion-red eyes.
"I am not your friend. Pity that he sacrificed himself to bring me back, but, that's how the egg hatches, isn't it." He said, unsheathing a ebony sword and lunging himself at the Argonian.
Hasir awoke to find himself staring into familiar pumpin eyes. He was looking at Hasir if he had lost a battle with a fish.
"My friend? What happened? I heard you screaming. Luckily I was wondering outside the gates of Senchal."
Hasir looked, confusedly, at Inigo.
"You were in SSenchal? Oh right, the inn. Why did you come here?"
Inigo scratched his indigo head sheepishly.
"I have no idea. I was busy have a drunken battle with my tale, chasing it and all, fell off my barstool and knew I had to come here. I did not know why but I could fell my fur bristle. Looks like you had a crater the size of Red Mountain open on the back of your head. Are you okay? Do you need medical attention?"
Hasir told Inigo to focus to which Inigo apologized.
"Yes, Inigo, I'm fine. I just had the weirdest dream, I saw a female khajjit worshipping Molag Bal. She threw me out of the window you see before you and I somehow fell through a field-of stars to Coldharbor. I saw the real face of the khajiit and then saw a vision of Ceralyne, you and the khajjit having sex and the khajiit told me Ceralyne was to be offered to Molag Bal as an impromptu bride or dinner or something."
Inigo looked aghast at Hasir.
"He intends tto have her for dinner? How is that horrible?"
Hasir looked at Inigo like he was a few sweetrolls short of a bunch.
"Inigo, you are a dumbass."
Inigo laughed at this aparent jab at his competence.
"I assure you, my ass is smart, not dumb."
Hasir got up unsteadily and he and Inigo went downstairs.
"Since when do you have a donkey?" He said, sniggering
They sat down at a table in the corner of the room when Dahiin came in, got behind the counter and started pouring drinks which she then brought over to the table. Hasir and Inigo thanked her when they recieved their drinks. Dahiin eyed Hasir wonderingly over the rim of her mug.
"Hasir, you look like you've seen a ghost. Dahhin did not make it too storng, did she?" She said, wonderingly
Hasir shook his head, making his leaf-like hair shiver as if on a windy day.
"No, it's not that, it'sss... ssomething elsse." He said, staring down at his mug. "By the way, thiss drink, what iss it?"
Dahiin looked from Hasir to Inigo uncertain, much like Danica was, as to why he adopted such a peculiar speechpattern. Inigo spoke when Daahin asked a second time.
"He just does this when he is nervous or uncertain. Do not think too much about it."
Daahin thanked the blue cat for his honesty and turned to the Argonian who was still staring, blankly, into the depths of the mug.
"Duely noted, thanked you Inigo. Hasir, if it is not the drink, which, by the way, is rose mead, brewed from the rose petals found around the vineyards, or so this one has been told, what is it?"
After several minutes of silence, the scaly dam finally broke.
"My wolf slaughtered a defenseless farm owner." He said, tears streaming down his scaly cheeks. "I was then shown a vision of his wife, made as a deadra praying for retribution from Molag Bal. I was the thrown into the chaos of my own despair and landed in the afterlife where I was face with a terrifying vision." He gulped before continuing shakily, "I saw that same khajiit and a vision of the elf, the khajiit and the female khajiit having sex." He cried out and buried his head in his hands.
Inigo came over and grasped Hasir's shoulder in an almost loving embrace.
"My friend. It's going to be okay. We will fight this bastard and his bride whatever the cost."
He eyed Daahin who nodded. She repeated Ingo's sentimental encouragement.
"The khajiit's right. There's no time to sit around and sulk. We've a caravan to assemble. Drink your mead that the spirits here have generously provided and we will walk, with ours tails held high to our next objective.
They all drained their mugs, replaced them on the counter and left the estate, heading for Elswyer.
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