The argonian, Altmer and the khajiit neared a forest that was wildly overgrown with twisted trees and wild weeds. Inigo cast around for any sign of familiarity but came up empty. Feeling a sense of unease, he turned to Hasir.
"Are you sure about this, my friend? Taking the shortcut. I mean? Saving several minutes shouldn't equate to us losing our lives. We could've just as easily walked around the forest to get back to Senchal safely. I mean, it's only forty minutes away... and that is if we take the safe route." Inigo said, gulping nervously.
He looked up and could barely discern the sun's position from the thick shadows the trees cast over the four travelers as they trudged onward. Inigo's ears pricked up as he heard movement in the line of trees to his left.
"My friend, we're not safe here. A shiver went up my spine... either that or my fleas are dead from too much electric shock therapy."
Hasir told Inigo to stop being a kitten and to grow thicker fur. He stopped suddenly; his tail thudding into the earth. A shadow was moving amongst the trees. They were being hunted, though by what or whom, he could not be sure. Ceralyne unsheated her bow and shot into the tree line only to hear a yelp of pain and something heavy fall to the ground.
The four companions triangulated the thing's position and close in upon it. A huge red wolf with amber eyes laying in the middle of a large clearing in the forest. Just as Inigo drew his sword, it stood up and howled to the heavens. Hasir and his companions looked on shocked as the fur shrank and the body took on a more feline appearance.
The khajiit, no longer a wolf, stood up. Hasir was the first of the group to see that she had the same amber eyes and the wolf along with some clothes he may or may not've seen before. She wore a strange horned brown headdress and a furred shirt decorated with bones of a peculiar nature and pants that looked like they had been stolen from the ancient Markarth tribe known as the Forsworn.
She tried to put weight on her foot but crumpled to the ground. Hasir and Inigo rushed to help her up. She managed to force a grimace.
"Thank you, kind souls. My name is Atala, I wish we had met under better circumstaces but..." She winced as a fresh wave of pain tore through her leg. "That's the way the wind bows. "She said, shrugging. "By the way, who shot me?"
Hasir and Inigo slowed down and stooped; looking at each other in surprise. Hasir gestured, with a clawed finger, to an elf sitting on an upturned log fifteen feet away.
"Erm... shouldn't you being asking the one who shot the arrow?" He said scrutinizing her as a wolf does if his dinner offended him in some way. "That wolf... that was you? How did you attain such a transformation?" He asked, "are you a serv-I mean hound of Hircine?"
To his surprise, she shook her head.
"No, I am a druid." She said, panting heavily.
Hasir and Inigo exchanged glances. Hasir cast a line in the water, hoping she would take the bait.
"What's a druid? Is that like," He waded in the water of his memory for a bit, allowing it to drift back to when he went to the camp in Morrowind. "Is that like a wise-woman?" He asked.
Atala paused and considered his words for a bit before half nodding. She had to figure how best to craft and present them with the word; much like a woodcransman carefully carve wood before crafting the perfect piece.
"Yes... and no." She gestured to a stump six feet from where they were and told her tale. "A shaman is one who draws energy from the soil of Nirn to attack his or her foes. A druid, by comparison, or is it by contrast? I always get those phrases mixed up, nyway, a druid is part of an order of nature-base magic users that can utilize the magic of Nirn as a shaman can but the druid can transform into animals to better traverse the land, water or sky of Nirn to locate an enemies. My form that of a, well you don't actually chose an animal. It's not like a ball and chain, as such, it does not tether you to one animal form. I, as well as other druids, can transform at will into other animals, think of it as a free-flowing river. The waters do not change to carry you from place to place. You just learn to relax and let the waves bore you onwards, unfettered by the current of the watrer. transforming into an animal is much the same."
Hasir, listening intently, nodded as his hands started to take on an yellow glow.
"I understand." He said as he passed the hand over her leg." He watched as the bones mended. Ra'Jirra tried putting weight on her affected limb and fell into a nearby tree. She slid down it like a wolf trying to get at a juicy rabbit in the tree canopy at failing.
Hasir look aghasted as his handiwork was, seemingly, all for naught. He ran over and helped the khajiit to her feet.
"I am so sorry. I don't know what... erm... I mean my spell.... t-that was supposed to heal-" He said, falling over his words. "This wound must be inflicted by some metal..." He drifted off and came back full force, "must've been a silver arrow." He said, snarling and gesturing to the elf. She hesitated for a second, then she obliged. Hasir grabbed her by the ear, pulling her close, "You idiot. Don't you know what silver does to creatures like us. "Use your brain next time, hsss..."
Ceralyne stammered her apology to the irate Argonian and, seeing Ra'Jirra had turned an unsettle shade of green, gestured towards her.
"Y-yes and for that, I am s-sorry b-but shouldn't we get the injured khajiit somewhere warm and cozy, possibly a cave of some kind, so we can inspect the severity of her injuries?"
Hasir nodded and helped Ceralyne lift the khajiit to a standing position so she could hobble to a secluded cave atop a small flight of greenery covered stairs.
Hasir and Ceralyne wended their way between stalagmites, ensuring not to bump the khajiit's leg on anything as they made their way toward a stone ledge in the far back corner of the cavern. The Argonian and Altmer lowered the khajiit gently into a sitting position of the ledge.
Hasir turned to Ceralyne and gestured to the cavern's opening.
"You moron! If it wasn't for you, she wouldn't be in this predicament. Shift yourself and go find suitable medical supplies."
Ceralyne asked the irrate Argonian where said equipment would be found.
"I don't know, do?" Hasir said, glaring angrily at her. "Make a medical cocktail. As they say, all the world's a stage and we are just performers. Go find the materials to put on the play." She stared blankly at the Argonian as she watched his tail angrily flick skyward. "What did I just say?" He shouted back, "Maybe you wish every werewolf hunters to be upon us like a glacier crushes a helpless rabbit so as to deprive the wolf of its meal?" Ceralyne shook her golden head. "Well then, best get to it. This forest had a myriad of supplies. Use your brain and think of something, if you have a brain that is."
Ceralyne opened her mouth to argue, thought better of it, clamped it shut and went searching for suitable supplies. Minutes later, she returned with strips of tree bark, a plank of wood and small vines and some silver ore she found. She set them beside the Argonian who had reached into his bag and extracted a healing potion, some leaves of wolfsbane and a mortal and pestle. He set them on the rock beside him.
She eyed the glass vial and inquired as to its use. Annoyed, Hasir looked at her.
"The mortar and pestle is so I can ground the needed ingredints. "He shrugged. "If that doesn't work, I have a healing draught here." He gestured to the bottle, "This is to try and mend her wounds, but the potion is only as a last resort, mind you." He stared disapprovingly at her. "Now, stop standing there gawking like a thief had stolen your sweetroll and help me, will you?"
The Argonian handed the mortar, pestle and the wolfbane and told the Altmer to use it to crush the wolfbane and the silver into a fine paste so he could rub it on the wound and ascertain its effectiveness. She did as she was told, took the bottle and dumped the contents into it. Hasir took it, uncorked it, poured some on a leather cloth he'd exracted from his bag and dabbed at the wound.
Both the Altmer and Ra'zirr looked aghast as the potion, presumably deadly, proved to be just the opposite. The bones healed and the wound closed up as if the ppotion were repairing a broken ship afloat on the lava in Oblivion. The argonian offered a had. Grinning, Ra'zirr took it and was helped to her feet. She was amazed that the bone was sturdy as a tree that was devoid of debilitating fungi intent on eating away at the bark, thus weakening the tree's integrity.
Inigo came into the cavern at that very moment. Atala sported a huge grin, ran toward him and hugged him.
"Inigo, long time, no see. How are thing in Annequina? Were the maniacs out for your blood captured?" She asked, conernedly
The smart blue cat gawked at her.
"What!?" He said, shocked., "I.... erm... I don't know. I knew some townsfolk chased us (my mother, Fergus and I) out of town because of some bad moon omen the Annequians were raving about, but, erm.... He looked at her in shocked disbelief. "Wait, how do you know about this? You haven't sent spies to dog my every step since then, have you?" He said, eyes narrowing.
Atala looked at Inigo's and his scaly friend's face and chuckled.
"No, of course not." She said, clutching her side. "What did you think, that you're poor mother sent spies to hunt you down? No, I would never do that. I did, however, run from the angry mob of villagers to prevent them flaying you within an ich of your life. After seeing the first blue hair sprout a few weeks after your birth I knew I had to spirit you away to someplace safe." Inigo looked on, dumbfounded. "I sent you and your brother to Running Sands orphanage just before I hid from the ever-approaching stormcloud that I feared would smother me; snuffing out my bright sky forever. By that same token, I came here in hopes of a sign, and like a moth to a flame, you came back to me."
Inigo looked at her; the wheels of thought turning in his mind.
"Mom, do you know what became of Fergus? I haven't smelled him anywhere. Maybe the trees are masking his sceent or he's been brought flat as a borad or he got gobbled up by a monster or...or the Doomstrider finished him off." He said, frantically
Atala soon up and tried her best to placate the frantic khajiit. She should Inigo some breathing exercises to help pull him mind out of the quagmire that is opened whenever a thought is pondered upon, much like a dead horse.
"Inigo calm down, breathe in and out slowly. Concentrate on your breath. Trust me. I had to do the same when I feared you had died. Fergus is not dead, I don't know, I can't explain it. I just have a feeling in my gut that he is alive somewhere."
Inigo did so and a vacant expression crossed his face.
"I know but do you know where fergus went?"
Atala stared at him as if he were dangling a tasty fish in front of her face.
"I don't know. The last I heard, he went, via a portal, to coldharbour to do battle with a strange wolflike creature. It is called a lunar wraith." Inigo narrowed his eyes as if was trying to pass a particularly stubborn stool sample. Atala groaned, running a palm down her face. "A lunar wraith is a shadow being with eyes of flame that can shapeshift into various forms. Fergus told me that the lunar wraith had transformed into a khajiit form."
Inigo audibly gasped and turned to Hasir.
My friend, I think we've cracked the Doomstrider's identity, he's a lunr wraith. Oblivion know what it looks like in in untransformed form. We've also no idea how to defeat it but at least, we know what the Doomstrider is." He paused for a second, "We don't know why it was sent here and what it's true purpose is."
Atala extracted a black book with orange writing from her bag and handed it to Inigo.
"This might help push away the clouds of doubt." She said, helpfully
Inigo looked at the cover, shrieked and dropped it as if it were made of actual fire. The cover had a fiery swirl superimposed on a field of ash below a title reading "lunar wraiths: How to differentiate them from normal werewolves." Haisr groaned, shook his head and picked the book up from the forest bed of the cavern and opened it.
A gout of shadow and flame erupted from the book and tried to singe Hasir spikey eyebrows but the elephants withstood the flames.
"Hmm... it seems that the lunar wraith is made out of fire whereas the normal werewolf has no flame to speak of. The wraith's eyes are also somewhat influenced by the seas of Oblivion. It also says as Coldharbour burns two type of flames, hot and cold, that the wraitth prefers to stay on the hot coals." He looked at Inigo and Atala who looked as if death had glazed their eyes over. "Think of it this way," Hasir said, "A lunar wraith is a werewolf who let his blood lust run free. A werewolf whose hunger ran too far off a short pier, so to speak."
Inigo groaned and asked if there was anyway to kill it. Hasir looked at him and scowled.
"Inigo, keep your fleas on. I'll get to that. Smoke some skooma and relax, will you... hss."
The blue khajiit scoffed at Hasir's blunt retort and sat next to his mother on the rock.
"I'll stuff skooma down your throat, how'd you like that?"
Atala slapped her son in the head and chastized him for his rude remark.
"Stop being a damned kitten and let your friend finish what he has to do."
Hasir thanked Atala for her gall in shutting Inigo up and continued reading.
"hmmm... ah yes, it says here that lunar wraith can be slowed with a special infused potion of frost salts and wwolfsbane. The book doesn't say anything about defeating... ah, here we go. To defeat the lunar wraith, one must construct a wall of frost around it to contain it and then counteract its fiery break with ice spikes or some frost breath countermeasure. Oh dear," Hasir said mournfully, "It says here that if you don't contain it, the lunar wraith sprouts fire and frost wraith. He closed the book. "Makes sense given that the lunar writh is said to be a guardian of both areas of Coldharbour. Molag Bal, I guess he rules the hottest region of Coldharbour."
Inigo looked at Hasir and began to chuckle. Hasir groaned and asked him what was so funny.
"Wouldn't that be Hotharbour instead of Coldharbour?" Inigo said, giggling
Hasir stared blankly at Inigo, groaned and shook his head before looking at Atala.
"Not funny. Atala would your magic assist us in anyway with dealing with this lunar wraith? On a side note, would you be willing to join up in our army we are forming to combat Molag Bal and his minions?" He held up five clawed fingers, "We have aid from Blackmarsh and Summerset, I think, those elves are stubborn, but, if we can persuade them... Anyway," He said, shaking his head to clear it, "We have the Backfin Legion and a small battalion of Lilmothian troops ready to deploy at a moment's notice, we have a mission to gain Elsweyr's aid, we still need... Valenwood and Orsinium." He turned away and mumbled, "We still need to give Khash a proper sendoff." He said, wiping a tear from his cheek. "So, what do you say? Will you help us?"
Atala looked at Hasir and grinned.
"Does a khajiit have fleas? Of course I'll help. I do have one question, though. How did you end up in Coldharbour to see that dreams of yours?" She said, eyes narrowed. "Don't get your tail in a knot. I only know because the forestt spirits told me. Interesting part of being a druid is being able to converse with all manner of flora and fauna. They told me that you were helping out a lady whose cows you killed and then she betrayed you?"
Hasir blinked at her, amazed and a bit confused.
"Y-yes... h-how did you know that?"
Atala spread her hands wide as if to spread some universal truth.
"I've already told you. Now, about the doomstrider... how did he become a lunar wraith? I have a few theories but nothing concrete just yet. One theory I had was that he did some dark deal with Mehrunes Dagon and soul his soul to Dagon's enemy, Molag Bal when he was but a kitten in Elsweyr."
Hasir rolled his eyes at such an outlandish statement.
"Atala, is you fur too tight? The doomstriude can't have sold his soul to anyone, daedra or otherwise, because he doesn't have one. I have a different theory, I think he was born in the deepest depths of fargrave. He was born to a lycanthrope and a fire atronach." He brought his clawed hands together to form a bond of sorts, "The union was not unlike Molag Bal's unholy union - only this one being between a being a fire and a wild beast instead of a vampire and werewolf." He then broke the bond in two like an egg hatching, "After the union, they gave birth to a wolf wreathed in flame. The wolf sowed the seeds of destruction everywhere it walked - hence the Doomstrider - and, upon seeing a lone khajiit in his path, killed him and assumed his feline form."
Atala considered this for a second and nodded.
"It makes sense now that I think on it. I mean didn't you say that the Doomstrider is none other than Inigo's negative emotions?"
Hasir gaped at her. How had she knewn that the Doomsttrider tended to live rent free in his head ever since he was expelled from Inigo's body? A random thought occured to him.
"Y-yes, I suppose you're right on that." He face screwed up in thought. "Though, I've no idea how you arrived at that conclusion. This may or may not be connected but when my soul was split between two wolves, one the positive side and the other the negative, I acted completely different than I normally would've otherwise. What if when the Doomstrider posesses someone; they act the total opposite of if they would if they had a particularly strong mind, to the point they could deny him access?"
Inigo chimed in as this was all too familiar territory for him, having witnessed it firsthand.
"Yes, my friend, it makes perfect sense. When my blue waters were clouded by the Doomstrider, I could not think clearly. I thought my head was a wrecking ball going at full speed towards a wall I could not avoid. Having a demon in your mind, though, I would not reccomend." He moved over to the rock and sat down next to his scaly friend, "I also remember being possessed by Bloodfang. I know he was Ceralyne's brother in disguise but... the point is, my mind cannot take any more pulling and tugging."
Atala looked at Hasir; eyebrow raised. He shrugged.
"The waters seem murkier for me than your clear pool, it seems." She said, getting up and stride to the rear of the cave. "If you want, I can summon a portal so you can return to Senchal or, you can stay and probe me more about the doomstrider. I do have a library, of sorts, that I've compiled with varied volumes of necromancy, dark magic, shapeshifting and demonology." She said, eyeing the argonian, arms crossed Your choice."
Hasir mulled thuis over in his head, thought bouncing of sinewy wall like small gum-encased Teeba Hatsei balls. He lokked at Inigo and Ceralyne who both grinned.
"I doubt the world would mind if we stay for a while." He said as he laid his back againt the earthy wall of the cavern. "Nirn can survive without it 'heroes' for a bit besides I am always one to absorb more knowledge as opposed tto running in blind."
Atala smiled and nodded.
"I am pleased with your decision." She said as she walked over to a wooden bookshelf and started perusing the volumes contained within it's knarled surface.
She pulled out two books entitled 'the Doomstrider: the shadow of death' and 'the many shades of Nirn' and brought them over to a tree growing out of the flow of the cavern and set them upon it.
"Well, I didn't find much that would help in your search but I did find these." She said, gesturing to the many-ringed table. One of them talks of... well, I won't spoil it for your, after all the beautiful of climbing a tree is so one can look on the beauty of life for themselves. I am going to get dinner." She said as she picked up a bow and quiver leaning against a wall near the cave's entrance. As she proceeded outside, she turned back, "Good luck, I hope your tree bears fruit."
She chuckled to herself and Inigo and Hasir scratched their heads like Nirn's stupidest pair of fishermen. They watched as she disappeared from sight and into the forest.
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