Inigo stopped in front of a dark alleyway with cobblestone mixed sand streets and dragon statue arched walkways. Hasir called out to the khajiit to be careful about venturing down dark alley. Inigo ignored him, saying this was something that he felt he had to do; being led by some invisible force. Hasir sighed resiegnedly and followed his apparently past-driven lost-in-the-swamp friend.
Hasir heard Inigo noisily loosed a mucus arrow over his the arm of his dragonscale armor. Hasir looked away in disgust.
"Inigo, can you warn me when you loose vomit-colored arrows. I sure hope your quiver is empty."
Inigo took out a leather cloth and cleared the mucus ammo from his armor and pocketed it.
"I am sorry my friend. This alleyway..." He said gesturing to the darkened street, "Leads to my childhood home, the one that," He wiped away a tear, "My mom, Atala, left my brother and I at when circumstances turned dire."
Hasir considered this and an idea dropped into his swamp that was apparently devoid of flowers.
"Do you mean that wise khajiit we encountered in the forest? She killed Sa'chil if I recall correctly."
Inigo took a deep breath to avoid decking the Argonian.
"Yes, that was her and she did not kill your friend. Her own stupidity did that." He could hear an audible growl behind him. "Now is not the time to fight, my friend. I have to see if the orphanage is still standing. If fergus and the others are still alive. If not, well, perhaps I can learn of Fergus' fate."
Hasir nodded and reassured Inigo that they may, in deed, be alive. The blue khajiit nodded and they walked down the alleyway, through some archways and stopped at a sandstone building just beyond the second archway. Hasir gawped at the apparently out of place building. He looked around and saw no similarities between it and the regal looking elsweyrian buildings that surrounded it.
He gestured to the house and turned his head toward Inigo.
"Are you sure this is it?" He said, a bemused expression on his face. "I hate to be wading in a mud puddle here, but this hardly looks like the building you described back when we were going to Windhelm."
Inigo breathed deep as if trying to force the orphanage down his dark nose tunnels.
"Yes, this is the place; my nose never lies. Inigo saw his friend's puzzleed expression, "It has helped in situations more dire than this as well. Yes, this is the orphanage where fergus, I and countless others stayed while our parents, for whatever reason, dumped us like sacks of troll dung." Hasir screwed his face up in disgust. "This place, while not harboring the happiest of memories, was home. It is, well was...whatever. This is Running Sands Orphanage."
As they entered the building, Hasir remarked upon the boarded up windows and crumbling stone facade of the building.
"Inigo, I hate to be a stickler, but, it looks as if there was an unforeseen event that pervaded our arrival. Either that or the children you were exxpecting to find have already been adopted."
Inigo didn't seem to be listening, like a engine running solely on adrenalinee, he had no time to be sidetracked. It soon became apparent, however as he looked around a room with faded salmon curtains and equally faded similarly colored upholstery. He'd thought that the children who saw him and and Fergus off would be here, if not grown up. He, Instead, found only the empty room.
He turned to the Argonian who wore an apprehensive look on his face.
"Hasir, do you have any idea what might've happened here?"
Hasir shook his head, leading Inigo to backtrack to the moment he and Felix left and wondered if either the children said something before being whisked away by their adopted parents. The canvas in his mind came away empty as he felt a cold, black wind blow near him.
He drew his ebony bow, nocked an arrow and nodded to Hasir to mirror the action. The argonianian did so just as black smoke swirled from the corners of the room and hovered over the three wooden chairs that dominated the space. Inigo saw this and drew back his bow. The arrow past harmlesslessly through the semi-solidified mist. Just as he was nocking another arrow, A black khajiit, a woman robed in spiderwebs and a woman robed in black with eerie markings materialized in the chairs.
Hasir entered the room with his dragonbone sword drawn. His eyes flicked between the khajiit and the three, rather unwelcome, visitors. He looked at the black khajiit and arched a spikey eyebroiw.
"Well, I didn't expect to see you back so soon. Turning me into a hare not enough for ya?" He said, snarling.
The two females eyed the khajiit with concern. He put up a hand to silence them.
"I am sorry about those unfortunate events, but you struck me, I had no choice. No, I and my cohorts are here to warn you of events put into motion that may not be avoided. As for the creaturess who dwell here. They and their offspring were taken by Stonefire into his realm of Coldharbor as a bargaining chip of sortts. That being you, your wolfish race and the master of said race on a sliver plate." Hasir snarled as his grip on his sword tightened.
The doomstrider got up and strode to and fro across the sandstone floor.
"We are here to help you avoid that storm cloud. You see, we not only help our leader by weaving, determining the paths of, and, in my case, eterminating the threads souls that deviated from their predetermined paths but we also warn those of whom the deviation affects. Hasir, you, Inigo, the companions and anyone else who wishes to do so must stop Stonefire from pursuing this dastardly and underhanded path he has taken for the apparently unwanted, his words not mine, unholy union. That which mere mortals chose for themselves is their own choice; not something to be exacted uppon by revenge."
Hasir's knuckles grew white as they strained againstt the sword's hilt. His eyes narrowed.
"What of this 'love affair' that bloomed like unwanted flowers between Molag Bal and Kynareth?"
The doomstrider opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the woman wearing the brightly symboled robe.
"That is important but it is not our place to ponder upon. Love is more Mara's domain, even if it is labeled as forbidden love. "Hasir snarled in his defiance. "However, we will look into it. I, for one, not so sure that my colleagues will agree, am flaberghasted by stonefire's choice of bride. I mean, Hircine's sister? Is it worth destroying nature over? I think not but we are preservers of fate. As such, we do not intervene, even in manners involving our own kin."
The doomstrider waited to see if there would be any more undue interruptions. When none came, he let loose the flood that threatened to overwhelm him earlier.
"Good points, Ithelia. I am sure Hermaus Mora's stance will differ but I think that we shoiuld investigate this 'forbidden love' going on with Kynareth and stonefire." He turned to the woman robed in spideerwebs. "Mephala, have you anything to add?"
Mephala stood up and strode over to where the black khajiit stood.
"I do, indeed, As we all, all of us, harbingers of fate, I think it unwise to interfer in the designs that fate has already painted. Kynareth will be wary of our involvement, as I am sure stonefire will be as well." The doomstrider scowled at this. "Nonetheless, I shall look into it. I doubt Herma Mora would have us do nothing."
The doomstrider motioned for Mephala to sit back down and walked up to the Inigo khajiit and extended his hand, smiling.
"Inigo, I do hope there are no hard feelings. I was just trying to protect you from what is to come. Back there, when I threatened you, I only did so beacuse of the adverse possibilites. I hope you can forgive me." He went over to where Mephala sat, bent down and opened a iron-bound chest black as midnight. What he extracted, Inigo could not see. The doomstrider strode over to Inigo hold a beautiful set of golden armor. "Here." He said, holding it out. "I want you to have tthis as a, er, apology for my actions. I crossed a line. I was only supposed to observ, never interfere, in the lives of mortals. For that, I apologize."
Inigo reached out and took the impressive golden armor shimmering with unknown purple gems set into the armor.
"I... dunno what to say." He said, gobsmacked. "This is... gorgeous, thank you. Apology accepted."
Inigo began stripping with impunity as he was eager to try the armor on. With the armor positioned correctly, he asked for a mirror. The doomstrider made a complex gesture in the air and a black and green miror, seemingly out of apocrypha itself, floated inches before him.
Hasir was amazed at the armor's craftsmanship; mouth hanging open like a stupified dog who was given the world's largest bone.
"Wow. Inigo, this is... really amazing." He said as he circumnavigated the armor; gawking at the ankle-high leather boots, the bluish skirt and the grey chainmail set into the skirt and dominating much of the torso, set atop more purple gems. The khajiit unsheathed a golden curved sword. He admired the sword and saw that its hilt was crafted from the same grey chainmail and had a purple pommel stone.
The doomstrider smirked as the blue khajiit admired his gift.
"Well, well, the kitty likes it. That is just something I got from the Lunar Guard."
Hasir's eyes narrowed in comprehension.
"Who are the Lunar Guard?"
The doomstrider launched into a tale of how the Lunar Guard guarded the Lunar Lattice which, he said, was a hidden passageway into the sands beyond the stars, the term given to the khajiit afterlife. He also said the he was part of the Lunar Guard before they judged him for some supposed misdeed and banished him, thus turning his grey fur black as night and his eyes from the brightest sea to the reddest lifeblood.
Feeling disheartened by the absence of the children, but graceful for the Quad's gift, He and Hasir left the house. Hasir had no idea where their next destination was. Inigo, however, had to see how the armor fared in battle.
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